The most helpful advice for helping a friend through verbal abuse

My best friend’s husband is verbally abusive toward her. They have been together for over 10 years, and over the last year in particular, his behavior has escalated. I’m concerned for my friend’s safety. I have spoken up because I have witnessed him scream at her, but he claims mental health issues, and she says he can’t help it. How can I help my beloved friend?

The depth of your care and concern for your chosen family is palpable, and powerful. As someone who has been on both sides of this equation, the most compassionate parts of my heart are right there with you. It hurts, deeply, to sense that a loved one is hurting. It’s even more devastating to witness that hurt being caused by the person who once made a commitment to cherish and protect them in all circumstances, for always. That kind of betrayal isn’t simple to process, let alone live with and through — and the way out can seem almost impossible.

The solution may not be straightforward, but there are lenses through which you can frame this situation that can provide both focus and clarity for you. What you can do is devote your attention to what you value the most — the well-being of your loved one, the well-being of the friendship you treasure and the unwavering belief that your friend deserves to be loved well. You may not be able to control the behavior of your friend, or of her husband. We can’t change or fix others, or will them to act in the way that we think is best — even if we might technically be “right” in our logic around the situation. Allowing someone else the agency of their own experience is one of the most loving things one human can do for another.

There are many reasons why people choose to stay with abusive partners. Maybe it’s a question of sunk cost — too much invested over too long to make giving up now seem like a viable option. Maybe it’s material considerations — the threat of losing a place to live, or a visa or a financial agreement needed to survive. Maybe it’s because they love their abuser, and feel responsible for their well-being, want to help them and will feel guilty if they don’t. Maybe they are afraid of the abuser, of what might happen if they leave, of what might happen if they stay. Maybe it’s because the abusive or neglectful patterns exemplified by their original caregivers or family dynamic conditioned them to have difficulty knowing what love actually looks, sounds, feels like. (Science has shown us that childhood abuse biologically reformulates brain composition around the structures responsible for fear, stress, cognitive function, memory and, by extension, decision-making around healthy partnerships.)

We might not know why she’s choosing to stay at the moment, but in every case, empathy through understanding will equip you with what you need to move forward in the wisest and most loving way possible. Those in abusive relationships don’t need to be shamed or guilted through incredulous judgments (“I can’t believe you would stay with her”) and statements that question their ability to decide what’s best for their life (“You need to break up with them”). Abuse thrives in secrecy and isolation. Allowing your opinion to drive a significant wedge between the two of you would only make her husband’s life easier, as abusers often seek to separate their victims from those they love. Without a support system, there’s no accountability for the abuser’s actions, and there’s no safety net to catch the person being abused if and when they do decide to take the leap and leave. However painful, it’s important that you have witnessed your friend’s husband’s abusive actions, and that you are still in your friend’s life.

At the same time, your well-being also matters. It’s emotionally and psychologically draining to be present for a situation like this, particularly over an extended period of time. Exhaustion, frustration, sadness, anger, the impulse to judge and even emptiness are normal. There exist ways you can continue to support your friend while still maintaining boundaries. If you find every conversation between the two of you has devolved into talking about the difficulties of her relationship (again, I’ve been on both sides of this equation), you can lovingly encourage her to try a different perspective: “I care about what you’re going through. I also think it’s important to make time for your own joy. I know our friendship brings out the best parts of both of us, and I want to enjoy those versions, too. Can we go see the movie we’ve been talking about this weekend, and sneak in wine and dumplings from our favorite spot?” It may sound trite, but this can save a life.

What you can do is focus on what you can control — which is you, your well-being, your response to the situation, and your commitment to your love for your best friend. And, as this would deeply touch the heart of your beloved friend, you could consider honoring the love that she has for this person. No one says you have to love him or even like him. You’re more than allowed to believe him abominable, and maybe do some witchcraft so his hairline starts receding at an unprecedented rate. (Do this with energetic caution, for karma reasons.) But honoring the love that exists in your friend’s heart will in turn help her feel loved by you. That being said, a responsibility toward pragmatic reality must be respected, and there are times when empathy and emotional support are not enough — especially because you have already seen his abusive behavior firsthand. If you believe your friend’s safety or life are ever in danger, it is important to seek help through organizations and communities led by trained professionals. (See resources at the bottom of this page.)

My physical life wasn’t in danger, but I was being emotionally and psychologically abused. And June was there for me. She gracefully and genuinely shared my happiness, albeit cautiously (which was her right), when he apologized and showed up at my door with white roses. She also breathed with me as I sobbed over his most soul-annihilating betrayal. She had the good sense to know that I deserved better, and she had her opinions (which was also her right). In between all of that , she also took the time to care for herself, for her creative and artistic practices and for her other relationships.

Many of my beloved friends abandoned me during this time. They thought I was weak. They thought I was guilty of the highest heresy in the all-powerful Church of Fourth-Wave Feminism — choosing a straight man over your femme friends. I could feel their disgust and their self-righteous cancellation in every one of the innumerable wounds I already had. This dogmatic punishment did not, as they had hoped, correct my perceived cardinal aberrances, forcing me to see the error of my idiotically and embarrassingly heterosexual ways and come crawling back to them like the exemplary queer prodigal daughter they wanted me to be.

Those people weren’t wrong — I did deserve better. He was a loser who needed sobriety badly, and I enabled his addiction behaviors; it was exhausting and infuriating for them to deal with it all. But they had the audacity to profess that they loved me while never caring enough to look beyond their own egos to even try to understand why my brain didn’t yet have the programming to make loving choices for myself.

June never enabled my worst decisions, but she did give me the space to make them myself. She never judged me because she had empathy for why I made them. She knew I was smart enough to know that what was happening was wrong but that I just needed some time to learn to love myself — which was what I was always going to do. She never abandoned me, even in all my delusion. And when I finally found the courage to leave, she was there. Almost 15 years later, she’s still here. Lovers have come and gone, as they always do — as they always do — but the love between me and my sister has only grown.

Every bleeding lovergirl with a heart that’s survived infinite violent blows deserves to be loved and understood by a June. Can you find it in your heart to be your best friend’s June?

If you or someone you love is experiencing domestic violence, call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at (800) 799-SAFE (7233) or go to thehotline.org.