I was quiet. I was quiet for months at a time while he threw tantrums and called me names. I was quiet while he ignored me, belittled me and talked down to me, not only in public, but in front of our friends. I was quiet. I think it’s a common reaction. Our husbands come home and we just want life to feel normal. I know that was all I wanted. Retrospectively, that is probably more damaging. It took me two years to tell him enough was enough. But, by then, the damage was done. My heart was shattered, our marriage in shambles, and a fracture in our marriage that has edges so jagged we can hardly speak to each. After being quiet for so long, life feels incredibly overwhelmingly loud. The shouting, the constant defensive posture I must take, the constant attempts to talk with him feel like they are constantly echoing through every room of the house. The sudden audibility of our life together is nearly too much to bear. I was so quiet for so long that I had lost my voice, my ability to be heard. My audibility. And yet life is roaring so loudly, even thought I am not heard, I am not recognized, I am forcibly quieted.