
Anupama Parameswaran’s interview on narcissistic abuse has created quite a stir in the one day since it aired on Dhanya Varma’s YouTube channel. One thing she made very clear in the interview was why she chose to talk about her experience. She wanted people to recognize the signs of abuse.
As someone who got divorced several years ago after experiencing both emotional and physical abuse, I knew the comments blaming Anupama would come soon.
Comments like:
“Why is she talking about this in public? She just wants attention.”
“She’s the toxic one in the relationship. Glad her partner left her.”
“Women use the word ‘abuse’ so flippantly nowadays. I’m sure the matter must have been small.”
And sure enough, I soon saw a barrage of similar reactions on Reddit and X.
This reaction is one of the reasons many people hesitate to speak about abusive relationships. They know that once they talk about what happened, they may be questioned, blamed, mocked, or told that they simply did not try hard enough to save the marriage.
“Why talk about it?”
This is such a common question.
But I want to ask the opposite question: Why shouldn’t we talk about it?
It is because people like Anupama chose to talk openly about their pain that people like me were able to heal.
Today, someone going through emotional abuse, physical abuse, narcissistic abuse, or a difficult divorce can find videos, podcasts, interviews, reels, support groups and personal stories online.
When I was going through it, there weren’t nearly as many resources. I had to search for text blogs written by complete strangers who had experienced something similar.
I would read their stories and think, Okay, so I am not the only one who feels this way. Maybe I am not imagining this. Maybe what I am experiencing isn’t normal.
It wasn’t silence that helped me heal. It was people choosing to speak.
In my case, it wasn’t just a “bad marriage”
In my case, there was both physical and emotional abuse involved.
Yet, when you are trying to somehow make your marriage work because of societal pressure, you can find yourself surrounded by people who encourage you to compromise rather than asking whether you are safe or happy.
At one point, I was even advised by someone very close to me not to tell my parents about what was happening because they would get hurt.
Who was I supposed to talk to then?
I was losing a lot of weight at the time because fights would make me lose my appetite. I wasn’t simply dealing with an ordinary marital disagreement. I was struggling emotionally and physically, and yet the advice I received was often about protecting everyone else’s feelings.
When I mentioned the physical abuse, one relative dismissed it by saying:
“It happens in all relationships.”
Another told me to compromise and just keep saying “okay, okay” to everything he said.
This is the kind of advice that can make someone question their own reality.
The comparison game
One of the worst things about talking about abuse is the way people compare your experience with someone else’s.
When I tried to make the marriage work, my ex would taunt me with things along the lines of:
“See? What you faced wasn’t so bad after all. That’s why you’re willing to compromise and return to me. You should see women in actual abusive relationships. They end up in hospitals.”
But abuse doesn’t become acceptable simply because someone else experienced something worse.
You don’t have to wait until you are in a hospital before you are allowed to say that something is wrong.
Society has a strange way of making women feel childish for being unhappy in a relationship. You’re told that you’re not mature enough to deal with “normal” relationship problems. You’re told that marriage requires compromise. You’re told to adjust. You’re told to be patient.
And sometimes, what is really being asked of you is to tolerate things you should never have been expected to tolerate.
Society often cares more about preserving the marriage than the person inside it
This is something I understand much better now.
Society doesn’t necessarily care about your happiness. It often cares about keeping the marriage intact.
A woman who stays in an unhappy marriage can be praised for being patient, mature, understanding and a good homemaker.
A woman who leaves can suddenly become selfish, difficult, immature or incapable of compromise.
I was blamed too. I am sure there are still people who consider the divorce my fault. And honestly, I am fine with that now. I don’t have to prove my version of events to people who gave me terrible advice in the first place. I know what I experienced. I know what I went through. Nobody knows my struggles better than I do.
And I am happy now.
That is enough for me.
The “good guy” problem
There is another complication that I think people don’t talk about enough. Sometimes the person who is abusive also has a very amicable personality.
Anupama mentioned something similar in her interview, and it immediately resonated with me.
Some people are simply very good at being pleasant, charming and agreeable around others. So to the outside world, he is the “good guy.”
Meanwhile, you may be the quieter person. The recluse. The person who isn’t particularly good at maska polish. So when you finally talk about what happened, people find his version easier to believe than yours.
Because they have seen the charming version of him. They haven’t seen what happened behind closed doors.
That is one reason why survivors of emotional abuse can find it so difficult to speak. You are not just recounting what happened. You are also trying to convince people who have already formed an opinion of the person involved.
Sometimes there is one final moment
And just like Anupama said, sometimes there is a flip. A moment that finally makes you take the last step.
For me, it came after another fight. I made him promise in front of God that from then on, we would resolve our problems without abuse.
He broke that promise and then justified it again. That was the moment something clicked in my head.
If this man, who is religious, could make a promise in front of God and then break it and justify what he had done, how was he ever going to listen to me?
I immediately called my parents. I told them that either they picked me up or I was leaving that instant.
And that’s how I left my marriage.
In the dead of night.
In my night clothes.
With nothing but a handbag.
The strange little moments that helped me survive
Looking back, there were also tiny moments that reminded me that I could still make myself happy.
I remember one particular picture I took right after a fight. I had just finished an intense crying session when I basically thought, Aah, fuck this. Let me make myself happy. So I started clicking aesthetic pictures.
I hadn’t eaten all day because, during that period, fights would often make me lose my appetite. So I took myself out and treated myself to some food.
I ordered coffee. And when it arrived, there was this huge heart on it. I actually looked at the other people’s coffee to see whether they had something similar. Nope.
Maybe the guy could make out from my face that I needed it.
But that tiny heart warmed me in a way I had never felt in my marriage.
I eventually understood that we simply weren’t right for each other
These days, when people ask what happened, I usually say that we weren’t right for each other.
And that is, in a way, true.
Maybe with a more docile person, he wouldn’t have felt the need to “discipline” her. And perhaps with a different person, I wouldn’t have become so agitated either.
We had very different ways of thinking. We brought out the worst in each other. But saying that we weren’t right for each other doesn’t mean that abuse was okay.
Incompatibility can explain why a relationship doesn’t work. It does not excuse physical or emotional abuse.
That distinction matters.
Men can be victims too
And before anyone assumes that I think abuse is only something women experience, I don’t.
Men can be victims of emotional and physical abuse too. I have witnessed it myself. In some ways, male victims face an additional barrier because society still doesn’t give men enough room to admit that they are hurting.
They’re expected to be strong. To control their emotions. To “man up.” To deal with relationship problems without admitting that they are being hurt.
That needs to change too.
Abuse is abuse, regardless of the gender of the person experiencing it.
Why talking about abuse matters
This is why I don’t understand the “Why talk about it?” reaction.
People talk because someone else might be going through the same thing and doesn’t yet have the words for it.
People talk because someone may recognize a warning sign.
People talk because someone may finally realize that what they have been told is “normal” isn’t normal.
People talk because sometimes hearing another person’s story is the first thing that makes you feel less alone.
I know this because I was that person.
I healed partly because strangers were willing to write about their experiences when I needed to read them.
Today, people have far more ways to find that kind of support. They can watch an interview, listen to a podcast, find a video, read a personal blog, or come across someone speaking openly about their experience.
That is not attention-seeking.
Sometimes, it is someone putting their pain into words so that another person doesn’t have to feel as alone as they once did.
So when someone asks, “Why talk about it?”
My answer is simple:
Because silence never helped me heal. People speaking about what they went through did.
And if sharing your experience helps even one person recognize emotional abuse, physical abuse, narcissistic abuse, or an unhealthy relationship and find the courage to leave, then talking about it was worth it.
And if you’re currently in a situation like the one I was in, please don’t make my mistake. Don’t let people convince you that you need to endure more before your pain becomes “serious enough.”
You don’t owe anyone a marriage at the cost of your happiness, safety or self-respect.
One last thing
And I want to add one more thing: the emotional manipulation.
Every time an episode of abuse happens, the person knows they have done something wrong. So they cry, apologize, promise it won’t happen again, and you, especially if you’re an empath, fall for it. You want to believe them. You want to believe that this was the last time.
But it doesn’t stop.
Eventually, even the crying and apologizing become less frequent. A sort of “What are you going to do about it?” attitude starts taking over. There is a smugness that comes from knowing you will tolerate it anyway.
That was when I finally told my parents.
My father and mother, God bless them, refused to let me return to that house unless he genuinely changed his ways. But his response was, “My house, my rules.”
And that was the end of that.
I also understand that having supportive parents is a privilege and a blessing. Not every woman has that safety net. Some parents won’t allow their daughters to return home, and that’s when the feeling of being trapped can become unbearable. For some women, that mental pain can become so overwhelming that they see no way out.
I know what that kind of mental pain feels like.
In my case, though, I knew I would never choose death. If my parents hadn’t supported me, I would have simply run away, started from scratch and figured out a way to survive. I had enough confidence in myself because of the little work experience I had already gained.
That’s one of the reasons I stress so much on financial independence for women.
Having your own income isn’t just about money. It gives you options. It gives you confidence. It gives you the knowledge that even if everything falls apart, you can rebuild your life.
I know women who feel completely tied down because they don’t have financial independence. To them, I would say: start small. Take up whatever work you can, in whatever way you can. It doesn’t have to be your dream job or a huge salary.
The first step is knowing that you can earn something on your own.
Because sometimes, that little bit of independence is what gives you the confidence to finally walk away.





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