Why I’m walking 62 miles for Refuge 🩷

I’ve chosen to take part in this charity walk for Refuge because this charity is personal to me.

I was in a relationship for over three and a half years, and eventually reached a point where I needed help to leave.

At that critical time, my Refuge case workers, alongside other organisations and an amazing private counsellor, walked alongside me. They helped shine a light on the way out when I simply couldn’t find it.

I want to raise awareness of something I now understand on a deeply personal level:

Abuse doesn’t always leave bruises.

Domestic abuse can be invisible to everyone looking from the outside. It can leave someone frightened, isolated, controlled and emotionally worn down without a single physical injury being visible. And leaving is not necessarily the safe or straightforward solution that people might imagine.

In my experience, the exit was the hardest part without a doubt. The period of leaving can be incredibly dangerous, particularly when abuse escalates as someone tries to leave. That is why having people around you who genuinely understand domestic abuse, understand the risks and know how to support someone safely is so critical.

And then there is what comes afterwards.

You are coming out of an experience that may have taken so much of your strength, and then you are expected to find that strength again while making huge decisions, rebuilding your life and trying to process an entire relationship that you haven’t even had the space to process yet. At the same time, you are trying to heal.

It is huge.

Then there is the lasting impact.

For me, it has meant questioning myself constantly and over-explaining everything because I am frightened of being misunderstood. I can fear conflict and struggle to trust people I once trusted completely. I can find it difficult to let people get close to me when I was once naturally trusting and open.

Sometimes I still see myself through the lens of the person I was with rather than through my own eyes.

I can be hypervigilant in places where I logically know I am safe. I notice tiny changes in someone’s body language, tone or mood and instinctively scan for danger. For a while, it almost felt like a superpower, but I know it isn’t. It is something I learned because I had to.

I can feel frightened or trapped when doors are locked or closed. Physical touch can sometimes feel frightening.

And, as strange as it sounds, I can almost find it not normal when someone is genuinely kind to me. I became conditioned to hear the worst things about myself. Sometimes hearing something nasty can feel more familiar than hearing something kind, simply because I became so used to it.

That is how much abuse can change the way you think. It can change what feels familiar. It can change what you expect from people. It can change what you believe you deserve.

I also still look over my shoulder in places I go, despite protective measures now being in place. Someone coming too close to me in a shop can make me jump because, for a split second, fear takes over.

These things aren’t visible. But they are part of the lasting impact. It doesn’t simply stop when you leave.

That is why specialist support matters so much.

There were words I heard from my Refuge case worker when I had been carrying so much for so long, which helped me finally breathe out and begin to find my strength again:

“You are believed, you are valued, and you are deserving of safety, peace, and happiness.”

I’m walking for Refuge to say thank you, to raise awareness of abuse that doesn’t leave bruises, and to help keep this incredible charity going so that they can continue to walk alongside people who desperately need them.

And so, for every one of the 62 miles I walk, I will take another step in my own healing journey.

A step for every person who has experienced abuse.

A step for those who are still living it.

A step for those trying to find their way out.

And a step for those who have left but are still trying to find themselves again.

And if you are reading this and recognise any part of your own experience, I want you to know:

You are not alone.

Use your voice. It's still there, I promise.

You are believed.

You are valued.

You are loved.

You are deserving of safety, peace and happiness.

There IS a way out even if you can no longer see it.

Every step I take is for you too 🩷

If you are able to donate, no matter how big or small, I would be incredibly grateful.

Thank you for reading my story, for supporting my walk, and for helping me turn something incredibly difficult into something that might help someone else. 🩷