Learning How to Walk
How was your weekend?! Your sister and best friend ask you with excitement, beaming with joy for your new relationship. They’re excited to see you happy again after the abusive relationship you endured several months earlier. Your face looks lighter and brighter, your sister says when she sees a picture of you and your new boyfriend. It’s really good to see that. You smile widely as you hear her words. You sense that she is at ease knowing you are in what appears to be a healthy and safe relationship, a drastic difference from where you were this time last year.
You confirm your loved ones’ remarks with levity in your voice and a smile on your face. Though you admit to them that the healing journey from your abusive experience is far from over. Triggers abound left and right. Tiny, seemingly unimportant moments are laced with past trauma: a tone of your voice, a choice of words or actions, simply existing. Any literal or metaphorical misstep led you into an emotional war zone and put your nervous system in constant hypervigilance with your abusive ex-partner.
I notice I have a lot of underlying triggers from him that are coming up in this new relationship, you tell your sister. Like the pace of my walk. She listens attentively but is admittedly confused. The pace of your walk? She asks with skepticism. Why would that matter? Her words carry the hint of hatred and rage toward him. She’s a fierce defender and protector of you and what she witnessed you go through for 12 long and grueling months. Knowing what you endured in the abusive relationship pained her, your mom, and your best friends in profound ways. And that’s a double-edged sword of abuse. The victim isn't the only one who’s hurt. There’s the pain you feel as the one being abused, what you live day in and day out. And then there’s the guilt you carry knowing you are putting your loved ones through hell as they stand by and watch. The isolation of this scenario is a common and lonely solution to the problem. I know it hurts them to see me in this situation, so let me shield them from the horror.
Why would the pace of my walk matter? Why would someone feel tense when they’re putting one foot in front of the other? Why would that create fear that negative impact is coming at any moment? Why would someone notice how fast or slow they are walking and worry that it means a blowup or hostility is around the corner? Why?
Because he didn't like how fast I walked, you start to explain. It was always a fight, something he got very upset with me over. Every step, every type of movement, turned into an issue. If I walked ahead of him, he was upset and started calling me names or became cold and dismissive. From the beginning of the relationship up until the very end, this was an issue.
Your sister is a fellow fast-walker. She knows the pace you’re referring to. It’s no conscious decision on your part to walk this way or that. Walking is simply a form of existing. And in that abusive relationship, you learned that even this is not safe. This too creates punishment, hostility, verbal putdowns, and emotional turmoil. Walking. We’re talking about walking. Something that is as mindless and reflexive as breathing. There is no forethought into it. Your body does it. And yet it became another factor to calculate in your interactions with your abusive partner, just as you carefully chose your words and the tone of your voice. One wrong move could result in emotional, verbal, and psychological destruction.
I was walking ahead of him this weekend, and I noticed myself tense up. I immediately felt insecure, and I was anticipating a “blow.” You explain your trauma response to your sister over the course of the weekend with your new partner. But the blow never came. No fight ensued. No words of criticism were said. Nothing happened. You walked. And he walked. And that was that.
Why would anyone get mad about how fast you walk? Your partner said when you confessed this hidden wound over the course of your weekend together. I don't know, but he did, you respond quietly, sulking your shoulders slightly as you remember fight after fight that occurred over the fact that your abusive ex accused you of being dominant and controlling because of the pace that you walked. Was it that you were dominant and controlling? Or was it that he felt his dominance and control over you was threatened?
When you’ve survived an abusive relationship, healing peels back like layers of an onion. You’ve peeled back some of the most important parts already: leaving, sustaining no contact, removing pictures and artifacts related in any way to the abuser and the relationship, rebuilding self-trust and security. Now you’re learning that another critical phase is rewiring past traumas in a new relationship, alongside a new partner, having the same or new experiences that end the way they’re supposed to. Like having someone you care about take accountability for their words and actions, or validating your feelings and emotions without punishing you for them. It feels like a brand new world out there for your nervous system. And you pray these mundane moments, such as walking down the street with your partner, continue to become fleeting instances once again.
After the weekend visit was over, you felt heaviness from a lingering emotional hangover. A weekend so full of laughter, talking, good food, good drinks, music, sunshine, and ocean air. Why does something so good feel so scary? Your body isn't used to this. It isn't used to good times being good without the threat of danger around the corner or the rug getting pulled out from under you. You’re actively living the fact that surviving abuse isn't just about getting out. Your body and nervous system don't yet know that the war is over, and that there is no longer a need to brace for impact and calculate your every move you make. Peace isn't a trap. And it isn't something you have to earn from your romantic partner. Peace is the bare minimum, along with emotional and psychological safety. Those are in the basic package, not premium add-ons at an extra cost. You’re relearning that now, in this new relationship. And probably for the first time in your adult life. Hand in hand with this new partner, you’re learning how to walk again. One small step at a time.
