People often ask, “Why don’t women just leave? Why don’t they escape and find a shelter?” From the outside, it seems like such a simple solution. But from my experience, and from the perspective of many women who have lived through abuse, the answer is complicated. Leaving an abusive relationship is not just about packing a bag and walking out the door—it is about breaking free from fear, control, and circumstances that often feel impossible to overcome.
For many women, the most powerful barrier is fear. When you live with an abusive partner, you know what they are capable of. Threats are not empty words; they are reminders of what could happen if you try to leave. Some men threaten to hurt or even kill their partners if they walk away, and sadly, statistics show that the most dangerous time for a woman is when she tries to leave. That fear is very real, and it can paralyze you into staying, because the risk of leaving feels greater than the pain of staying.
Another reason is emotional attachment. Abuse doesn’t start with violence—it starts with love. Many women still care for their partners, still hope the person they fell in love with will return. After every incident, there are apologies, promises, and tears. This cycle of abuse creates confusion, guilt, and hope that things will get better. Escaping feels like giving up on the relationship, and for women who have invested years, children, and love, that’s an incredibly hard step to take.
Practical barriers are just as real. Financial abuse often leaves women with no money, no job, and no control over resources. If you have children, the decision becomes even harder—you worry about custody battles, disrupting their lives, or not being able to provide for them. Many shelters are full, have limited space, or only allow short stays. Leaving may mean facing homelessness, hunger, or losing your children.
On top of that, there is shame and stigma. Society often blames women for staying, making us feel weak or foolish. Sometimes, our own families and communities don’t understand, pressuring us to keep the relationship together or blaming us for the abuse. That isolation makes it even harder to reach out for help.
So why don’t we escape and find shelter? It’s not because we don’t want safety. It’s because leaving is one of the most dangerous, complicated, and emotionally painful decisions we will ever make. We weigh our options carefully, often choosing what feels like the lesser of two risks—enduring the abuse rather than facing the unknown.
From my perspective as a woman, the question should not be “Why doesn’t she leave?” but “Why is he allowed to abuse her?” When we shift the focus from the victim to the abuser, we start to understand that the responsibility lies not with the woman who is trapped, but with the person who trapped her in the first place.