How does someone who identifies as a feminist, has spent the majority of their career advocating for the most vulnerable and has a master's degree in counseling get sucked into a cycle of abuse? That is the question I ask myself every day. I met him when I was healing from long-term relationship. Our relationship moved very quickly and within a few weeks we were inseparable and living together. Shortly after a year he proposed, the next year we got married. Were there red flags? Yes. from the beginning. Social media was a red flag. Communicaton was red flag. Temper was a red flag. The first time he choked me was a red flag. Did I think it could get better? Did I think he could change? Did I think he loved me? Yes. I'm not perfect and knew I had stuff to work on so I kept moving forward. We tried couples counseling andI was intentional about us meeting with a male therapist so he wouldn't attribute issues to him being cornered by two women. It helped me feel heard, slightly, and to my surprise he said it wasn't helpful. As the relationship continued I noticed I was paranoid. I panicked at the thought of another man giving me any attention. But he was free to keep his ex's on social media? Oh, she lives in Turkey and has cancer though so it's okay. The subtle questions and assumptions and double standards. Who did I work with? How many men try hitting on me? Why am I looking like Im trying to look nicer for work on a particular day? Oh, but wait. everything goes back to me. We argue, we fight and somehow am the problem. Gaslight. I know this and yet I still question myself and my sanity. "Get over it." "You're too sensitive." The mocking. among many others. then there's the choking, the hoving over me.. the taunting, oh and the airtag he hid in my vehicle for months and only mentioned it after the vehicle was totaled. We go to a nightclub and he gets furious because I want to dance and he doesn't like to dance. I don't force him to dance but I enjoy dancing, so why shouldn't I? Because I want attention. I feel the tension. We fight and it's my fault because I should know he doesn't like dancing. I call the cops and he gets furious because I'm going to ruin his career. As a realtor he will lose his license if there is police involvement so I can't do it. It will be my fault that he loses his license and current livelihood. We hang out with his friends, go on a double date and he accuses me of flirting with his friend, as he is sitting next to his girlfriend. What was I doing? Looking at his friend as he was talking to us. Does this happen only once? No is it only with this friend? No. what have I learned? Don't make eye contact with a man other than him. He accuses me of having sex with his friend while he went to the bathroom for 1-2 minutes and hits me on the face. I leave, try to get space and he follows me. It escalates and he starts choking me from behind as we both sat on the couch. He had his left hand in front of the right and he was using his body to choke me harder. He was angling his body backyard to choke me harder once he had a good grip underneath my neck I got myself out of it and got up and he followed me, choking me while standing in front of me. I started to yell and he finally let go, moking me and calling me a moron because I couldn't breathe. All because he thought I had cheated on him during those 1-2 minutes he was in the bathroom. Sure, he was drunk so maybe it wasn't his fault? He is now seeking individual therapy and there is some improvement. I have nightmares and think about all of this on a daily basis. I am on edge, irritable, tired and still don't give up. I hate failure so I continue to be in this relationship. Why? Because I love him? No, that's stupid. It's because I don't love myself and think I can wait it out until he is better. It's gotten better so maybe he'll be the person I need in this relationship, right? What would I tell a counseling client in my situation? Why am I a hypocrite? How can I love myself? Can I continue? Will he change? I don't want to lose him but I'm losing myself in the process. I don't tell anyone, not my family, friends, colleagues. Nobody. I don't want people to hate him. I don't want people to judge him based on his worst moments. There are so many great qualities so I want to stick it out for the good in him. If I tell people then I'll look stupid for staying. What a fucking feminist.