Sarah never thought she would become that woman, the one who flinches when a hand is raised, who walks on eggshells in her own home, who wears long sleeves in the heat of to hide bruises or the one who covers her face with layers of make-up to hide a black eye or swollen lip.

She had grown up hearing stories of battered women and wondered why they didn’t just leave. It seemed so simple. Until it happened to her.

Sarah met Daniel in her early 20s. He was charming, ambitious and attentive- everything she thought she wanted in a partner. When he asked her to move in after only six months, she was flattered. “It felt like love,” she recalls.

Then the control started. First, it was subtle comments about what she should wear, who she should talk to and where she should go. Then, it escalated. The first slap came one evening after she had been out with friends. “You should be grateful I care,” Daniel had said.

Sarah should have left then, but she didn’t.

Sarah’s story mirrors that of millions of women worldwide. According to the World Health Organization (WHO), one in three women globally has experienced physical or sexual violence in their lifetime, usually at the hands of an intimate partner. 

So, why don’t women just walk out? The reasons are far more complex than most people assume.

For 32-year-old Sarah, leaving felt impossible, even when the violence worsened. “He would beat me one night and cry the next morning, telling me he couldn’t live without me,” she says. “I believed him.”

This is a textbook example of Stockholm syndrome, where victims form emotional attachments to their abusers as a survival mechanism. Psychologist Dr Nassim Nkatha explains, “Abuse is not just physical; it’s also psychological. The abuser isolates the victim, gaslights her into doubting her reality and then offers occasional acts of kindness. The victim clings to those moments, believing the ‘real’ version of her partner is the loving one, not the violent one.”

Lilian, a 26-year-old mother of two, shares a similar story. “He controlled everything, my phone, my money, even my time. I became dependent on him and he made me feel like I was nothing without him.”

One of the most damaging tactics abusers use is eroding their victims’ self-esteem. Sarah remembers how Daniel’s words shaped her reality: “He told me I was too fat, too emotional, too needy, snivelling and mentally ill. He said no other man would ever love a woman like me. After years of hearing that, I believed him.”

Dr Nkatha says that emotional abuse is as powerful as physical violence. “A woman can be completely broken without ever being hit. By the time she realises she needs to leave, she’s convinced she can’t survive alone.”

Leaving is a societal battle for some women. In many cultures, divorce is seen as a woman’s failure rather than an escape from harm.

“I was terrified of what people would say,” Jane, a survivor, admits. “I didn’t want to be labelled as that woman who couldn’t keep a husband. My own mother told me to be patient. She said that marriage comes with many challenges.”

Even in progressive societies, women face immense pressure to “make a marriage work,” even when that marriage is killing them.

Others believe staying is best for their children. “He never hit the kids, only me and he was a good dad,” Fiona, a mother of two, recalls. “I thought they deserved to grow up with a father.”

However, studies show that children who witness domestic violence suffer long-term psychological damage. WHO reports show that children exposed to intimate partner violence are at higher risk of depression, anxiety and repeating the cycle of abuse in adulthood.

Dr Nkatha warns, “Children in abusive households absorb the dysfunction. They learn that love and violence must coexist.”

For Sarah, money was the final chain that kept her trapped. When she lost her job, Daniel’s mask slipped completely. “He made it clear that his money was his. I had no savings, no way to leave. If I wanted food, clothes and a roof over my head, I had to obey him!”

Many abusers use financial control as a weapon; their partner controls their income, sabotages their job, or denies them access to money.  Staying becomes about survival. If they leave, where will they live? How will they feed their children?

Beyond financial constraints, domestic violence is also an assault on the mind; emotional exhaustion keeps many women trapped in a constant state of fear and anxiety, leaving them with little energy to even consider leaving and focus solely on surviving each day.

Dr Nkatha explains that the brain adapts to trauma, making it harder for victims to see a way out. “It’s called learned helplessness. The victim has tried to fight back before, but the abuse doesn’t stop. Eventually, she gives up.”

Lilian admits to having liked it. “I think I got addicted to it,” she says. “Not to the pain, but the drama. The highs were so high and the makeup felt so good. Even after the insults or blows, my ex-husband would return with tears, gifts and grand gestures. In a twisted way, it felt romantic. Like we had this deep, messy love that no outsider would understand. Over time, peace felt unfamiliar, like something was missing; it felt like an allergen.”

Psychologists call it ‘addiction to high drama’, where the brain craves the chemical rush of the abuse-repair cycle. “You get hooked on the adrenaline and confusion,” explains Dr Nkatha. “The chaos feels like connection. Without it, survivors like Lilian feel lost, even bored.”

The abuse-repair cycle is a repeating pattern in abusive relationships that oscillates from tension to an abusive incident, followed by a “honeymoon” phase of apologies, affection or gifts. This temporary kindness creates false hope and emotional confusion. Over time, victims become trapped in an endless loop.

Dr Nkatha further explains the concept of ‘intermittent reinforcement’; how that cycle of abuse creates a powerful psychological bond. “The brain releases large doses of dopamine and oxytocin, the bonding hormone”

Eventually, Sarah did leave, but it wasn’t easy. “I had nothing when I left,” she says. “No job, no money, no plan. But I knew if I stayed, I would have been murdered.”

Read Also: Married Men Reveal: Key Factors for Choosing a good Wife

She found help through a local shelter, where she met other survivors. Women like Jane, who had left despite the stigma. Lilian, who had escaped after years of psychological manipulation.

Instead of asking why women in these situations can’t just leave, we should be asking, how can we make it easier for them to leave? Domestic violence is a societal crisis. Until women have the resources, protection and support they need, they will continue to suffer in silence.

In Kenya, fortunately, help is available. Organisations like Usikimye, the Gender-Based Violence Recovery Centre (GBVRC) and safe houses across the country offer survivors shelter, counselling, medical and legal support.

If you’re going through abuse or know someone who is, you can call the UN Women toll-free hotline 1195. It operates 24/7 and connects survivors with emergency assistance, psychological care, legal aid and safe spaces to start over.

Sarah has one message for women still trapped: “It’s not your fault. And you are not alone!”