When I was growing up, my family used to get the Jewish Press every week. As a girl, I was allowed to read everything, from the headlines to the op-eds to the regular weekly columns. Everything, that is, except for the pullout section in the middle of the paper, named simply: “Family Matters.”

That section was not meant for children. It was designed as a pull-out that parents could hide from young, curious eyes, since it contained stories that no one should ever be exposed to.

Although I wasn’t supposed to read it, I did anyway. I didn’t understand much of the terminology that was used – strange, foreign words like “rape,” “addiction,” and “domestic violence.”

I hated that section. It was a sad and depressing four pages, about people whose lives were worlds apart from mine. Still, every week, I kept on reading. Something magnetic seemed to draw me in, pulling me to read the stories within those pages, to understand the meaning behind those unknown words and the people behind those letters.

The stories I read were not about things I could ever imagine myself relating to. I grew up in a great home and had a happy, uneventful childhood. That section was for people who came from broken homes and who lived in bad neighborhoods. Stories about children who were molested and men who went to jail and women who were abused.

Not people like me.

But life has a funny way of dealing you things you never would have dreamed you’d encounter. And despite reading about abusive relationships, I still didn’t recognize it when it stared me right in the face.

I met my abuser ten years ago as a rebellious, angry and confused teenager. I thought that he had saved me, that he was sent from G-d to rescue me from my lost self. He was there for me when all I needed was someone to love me, to take care of me. And he knew it.

He abused me for eight long years. It was only a few weeks ago, when I finally received my divorce, that I felt, for the first time, like I’m finally free.

I never dreamed I would be abused.

Nobody thinks it will happen to them.

You don’t think it’s happening when you first meet him, and he is wonderful and kind and generous and loves you more than you ever thought possible.

You don’t think it’s happening when you both start to argue, and you think it’s normal and that you’ll stop fighting if you just change a few things to appease his anger. After all, relationships are about work, right? Nobody said it would be easy.

You don’t think it’s happening when he gradually asks you to skip family affairs and not to talk to your best friend because once, in his mind, she insulted him.

And you still don’t think it’s happening when he’s cursing you out in public or when he hits you for the first time, or when, inevitably, he holds a knife to your throat.

Eventually, that becomes normal too.

Because that’s the secret of domestic violence, the thing that nobody tells you. Domestic violence is a psychological game, one where the abuser has everybody fooled. Many times, he is well-respected and considered to be an exceptionally good person. That’s why in many cases, when the woman does reach out for help, nobody believes her. And those who do just can’t understand it. If things are as bad as she says they are, why doesn’t she just leave?

And really, why doesn’t she? What would make a woman stay with a man who constantly belittles, hurts, manipulates, threatens and beats her?

The answer to that is complex and is different for each unique individual. It is definitely not a topic that can be fully covered in one article, but perhaps this is a start.

Some victims stay out of fear that their abuser will hurt or kill them, their children, or their family if they attempt to leave. And indeed, the most dangerous time for a victim of domestic violence is when she tries to leave, because that’s when the abuser loses his control and has nothing left to lose. Most homicides involving violent partners occur when the victim tries to end the relationship.

Some stay out of intense shame, not willing to admit to their family and friends the unimaginable things they have gone through. They believe the hell they are experiencing is less painful than the shame they would feel with the stigma of divorce attached to their name.

Others have no support and no place to go. Many victims are completely dependent on their abusers – financially, emotionally, and psychologically. That’s part of the game – to cut her off from everything and everyone that could potentially cause her to leave him.

And some stay thinking – hoping, praying, believing – that he’ll change. The hold an abuser has on his victim is so strong that she truly believes he is capable of change, and of once again being the wonderful, generous man she fell in love with.

It is irrational, but the fact is that it is harder to leave an abusive relationship than a healthy one. Every time she thinks she is done, he reels her back in, and the cycle continues.

And yet, despite all the variables involved, people don’t get it. Domestic violence is a mysterious, veiled, dark world. So much of the tactics employed by the abuser is designed to keep the woman in the dark, to confuse her about what is happening, to keep her under his complete control even when it seems like the most logical thing in the world is to just leave.

We have the power to change that. You and me and anyone who is reading this. Because when you take the mystery out of domestic violence and expose it for what it truly is, the abusers automatically lose some of their control. There cannot be as much power once you remove the secrecy.

Statistics show that one in every four women will experience domestic violence in her lifetime. That’s a frightening statistic. What’s even more frightening is the fact that we send our daughters out on dates at 18 years old, fresh out of seminary, with absolutely no education on this topic. How can anybody recognize the signs if they were never warned about them to begin with?

Domestic violence happens every day, in every community, all over the world. It is not going away just because we want it to. The only thing we can do is speak out, tell our stories, hear other victims’ and survivors’ stories. And to educate our children. It is so, so important to teach them about this topic, to bring awareness to the forefront. The signs in an abusive partner are always there. Let’s teach our daughters how to read them.

Let’s tear down the mystery surrounding abuse.

Let’s break the silence.