Victims of domestic abuse are often met with dismissive responses that minimise their pain: At least it wasn’t worse. Be glad he never hit you. You should be grateful you got away—some people never do.
But what if that very message becomes the barrier to healing? For many individuals in emotionally, psychologically, or verbally abusive relationships, the idea that “others had it worse” becomes a silencing force. It casts doubt on their reality, making them question whether what they experienced even qualifies as abuse. It tells them they’re overreacting. That they should be fine. That they don’t have the right to hurt.
This article examines the comparison trap in abuse—how societal narratives that focus only on the most extreme forms of harm cause victims to overlook or dismiss their own experiences. And how true recovery begins with recognising that abuse doesn’t have to look a certain way to be real.
Trapped in Comparison: “It Could Have Been Worse”
One of trauma’s most damaging effects is the inner voice that whispers, Maybe I’m exaggerating. That voice grows louder when you’ve spent years trying to explain something no one else seemed to witness. When your understanding of abuse has been shaped by only the most visible forms—bruises, screaming, physical danger.
As one survivor put it: “I remember thinking (I still do), ‘Maybe I’m exaggerating.’ It makes you go back to the relationship thinking you were being ‘ridiculous’.”
This cycle of self-doubt is common. Many people who lived through non-physical abuse spend years downplaying what they endured simply because they weren’t physically assaulted. They compare themselves to those who ended up in emergency rooms or shelters, and feel ashamed for being so impacted by “just words.”
Yet emotional and psychological abuse are no less damaging. These forms of harm often go unseen, but they run deep. Their invisibility doesn’t make them any less real.
Why Media Narratives Leave Survivors in the Dark
The stories we consume shape our expectations. When it comes to abuse, media representation has contributed to a dangerously narrow view of what abuse looks like.
TV dramas, documentaries, and news coverage frequently focus on the most extreme examples: physical violence, dramatic rescues, courtroom battles. These narratives are important, but they aren’t the whole picture.
What often goes unseen are the slow, corrosive experiences that chip away at someone’s self-worth. The control over money. The constant emotional manipulation. The charming partner no one else suspects. The isolating behaviours disguised as love.
“It took me years to realize it was abuse,” one survivor shared. “I didn’t have the right picture of what abuse looked like.”
Another said, “I thought I hadn’t been in a DV situation because he never hit me. Ten years later, in a conversation with a woman just leaving a DV situation, I discovered that verbal, financial abuse, gaslighting—those are abuse too.”
By defining abuse only through physical violence, society invalidates millions of people whose experiences fall outside that frame. This cultural oversight traps survivors in shame and confusion.
When Empathy Becomes Self-Silencing
Many survivors are deeply compassionate individuals. That empathy often plays a role in why they stayed. It also shapes how they process what happened.
They try to understand their abuser’s trauma. They make excuses. They blame themselves. And when they hear about others who faced worse, they convince themselves they have no right to speak up.
You might find yourself rationalising: They had a traumatic past. I provoked them. I’m too sensitive. It’s not like they ever hit me.
This is empathy turned inward in a harmful way. It stops survivors from recognising what they went through, from protecting themselves, from reaching out for help. It keeps them small.
The Hidden Cost of Minimising Your Pain
Telling yourself it “wasn’t that bad” doesn’t make it any less damaging. It just adds another layer of silence.
When survivors compare their experiences to those who “had it worse,” they often avoid seeking therapy, delay leaving the relationship, or carry deep shame for continuing to struggle.
“I used to think it was my fault. That I needed to be the bigger person and detach from my ego. That maybe when he told me I was grandiose, he was right,” one survivor shared.
These beliefs, especially when reinforced by others, can leave victims deeply confused about what they actually endured. Psychological abuse distorts reality. Over time, it can even make you question whether anything really happened at all.
But if you were left anxious, afraid, disconnected from yourself—if you felt silenced, ashamed, or unsafe—then what you experienced was real. And it caused harm.
You Don’t Need a Comparison to Call It Abuse
There is no minimum threshold of suffering required for your story to matter. You don’t need to match someone else’s nightmare to validate your own.
Abuse isn’t a competition. It’s a pattern of control, coercion, and harm. Whether it shows up through constant criticism, silent withdrawal, financial restriction, or physical threats—it all counts.
You are allowed to name it. You are allowed to get help. You are allowed to heal, even if it took you years to realise it was abuse.
Comparison Trap in Abuse: Reclaiming Your Truth
If you’ve spent time telling yourself it wasn’t abuse because it wasn’t “as bad,” take a moment to listen to the part of you that still aches. That still remembers. That still needs validation.
What happened to you does not need to meet anyone else’s standards to be real.
You don’t have to minimise your story to make space for someone else’s. Your experience matters, even if it doesn’t look like anyone else’s.
You were there. You know what happened. And you have every right to name it.
Not because it fits a certain mould. But because it is your truth.
Featured image: Comparing to others can keep victims trapped. Source: photosky99 / Adobe Stock.
