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A Rebellion Against Silence

I started this blog as a rebellion against silence.

I had so much I wanted to say, and I have for a very long time.  I didn’t always know it, and what I wanted and needed to say has changed over time, based on whether I was in contact with him and how far along in the healing process I was.

He had conditioned me about how I could speak about what I had been through.

One minute he admitted to something, the next he minute denied it.  One minute he claimed it was my fault, the next minute he begged for my forgiveness. One minute he said he had done the things he had done because he had been young and immature and didn’t know what he was doing, the next minute he engaged in the same behavior as before. One minute he said he couldn’t live without me, the next minute he acted as if I never existed.

He at first refused to hear me.  He denied, blamed, deflected, stonewalled, walked out, projected, accused– well, if you’ve been through it, you know how it is.  Then he listened, but gaslighted and guilted me for not believing him about his excuses and lies.  If I wanted to talk about it with other people, he shamed me for going outside the relationship, even though he himself was smearing me to other people for “starting arguments” and being paranoid about what was continuing to occur.  It was all just another tactic to silence me.

I could either accept his terms or be the “bad one” for merely wanting  my voice heard, for wanting what had been done to me to matter.  And throughout the entire relationship, there were secrets to keep so his different worlds wouldn’t cross one another, but I wasn’t even aware it wasn’t an equal playing field.  It was never a fair fight.  I didn’t even know it was a “fight” at all.

For a long time, I said almost nothing to anyone for a variety of reasons.

Yet when I reached a certain point in no-contact, I woke up one morning and had the overwhelming urge to just start talking.  I wanted a forum for it where I knew people would be able to see it even if no one ever did, a forum where he did not get to minimize it or dictate who I got to tell about it.  I did not even care if anyone saw it because that wasn’t the point.  He would not get to reshape it or tell me what I should think about it.  He would not get to blame me for his own actions or excuse it on his past girlfriends or his immaturity or parents.

Now I am telling my story and I am putting words to things for which I had no words before, things that I know he would prefer never had any words.  I am telling my story because I survived and I will use it to help others in the ways that I am capable and that others deem my story fit to do so.

I will not be silenced.

For everyone who has read any part of it, thank you. 

Thank you for being a witness to what I went through.

Thank you for hearing me find meaning and seeing all of this pain evolve into something good.

Thank you for validating the psychological pain and listening to me grapple with the unanswered questions and the philosophical purpose of it all.


Kristen Milstead

Kristen Milstead is a narcissistic abuse survivor who has become a strong advocate for finding your unique voice and using it to help others find theirs.


  1. Thank YOU sweet Kristen for all you do here! xoxo

    1. You’re so welcome. Thank you for taking the time to read.

  2. Thank you for sharing your experience, Kristen. I am 2 months removed from being discarded by a narcissist and am still trying to wrap my head around what happened . Things were said to me–about me–that no normal human being, especially someone with whom I was intimately involved with–would say. My narc devalued me after I was discarded. He blindsided ne by suddenly breaking up with me, and when I sought closure, he proceeded to unleash his rage, even threatening me with going to the police because I e-mailed him seeking understanding and a “normal” type of break-up. Then I laughed in his face (given the hundreds of e-mail and text messages, and phone calls I had from him) and caused him a major narcissistic injury by telling him about my recent discovery that two women in his past had gotten restraining orders against him, so I wasn’t the one with a record or a history of domestic abuse. Then he went into a full-on rage, telling me he was victimized by those women–who he claimed had a history of mental illness–and said I was just like them (sadistically laughing, it seemed)! His parting sbot was projecting his self -loathing on me, telling me I was contemptible, pitiable, and beneath him. I finally saw him for what he is: a twisted, vicious monster.

    Before being discarded and devalued in the aftermath, I didn’t realize I was dealing with a narcissist or how dangerous people with NPD are.

    Thanks for reading. I know you understand. My best, Sara

    1. Yes, I do understand. So much of that sounds so familiar. I don’t think there is any pain like this, like having someone you love so deeply do the worst things anyone has ever done to you. It’s betrayal on a level I don’t think anyone can understand unless they have been through it. Thank you for sharing what happened to you and thank you for reading, Sara. This is how we heal I think, by talking about what happened.

  3. Thank you for being a voice for many that are still speechless from their own nightmare.

    1. You are welcome, Janny. Thank you so much for reading.

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