Why Telling Abuse Survivors “I Would Have Fought Back” Misses the Point
When survivors of domestic abuse share their stories, they often receive a flood of responses from friends, acquaintances, or strangers. Many of these come from a genuine place of outrage and empathy. But some follow a familiar script: “If it were me, I would have walked out.” “I’d have slapped him across the face.” “I’d have told him exactly where to shove it.”
To the person saying it, this might feel like a show of solidarity, a way of taking the survivor’s side and rejecting the abuser’s behaviour. But for those who have lived the reality of coercive control, these “would have” statements can miss the mark. They skip over the complexity of survival in an abusive relationship, where every move has to be weighed against the risk of retaliation.
A Story That Shows the Gap in Understanding
Recently, I shared an incident from my marriage on social media. My then-husband told me I was “not allowed” to enjoy wine with dinner because it would set a bad example for our young son. One night at a dinner party, when a friend offered me a glass, I accepted. A few moments later, the wine appeared in front of me, not in a wine glass like everyone else’s, but in a coffee mug. I later learned my husband had instructed her to serve it to me that way.
It was an act designed to humiliate. Later that night, when I told him I would make my own choices about wine, he warned me there would be consequences, making it clear he would involve our child to shame me.
When I shared this story publicly, I received a wave of “would have” reactions. “I’d have grabbed a proper wine glass, poured it out of the mug, and stared him down while I drank.” “I’d have smashed the bottle over his head if he spoke to me like that.” “I’d have made a joke in front of everyone to embarrass him right back.”
It’s nice to imagine a scenario where the abuser gets what they deserve, and I understand why people want to picture a moment where the perpetrator is called out or humiliated. But these reactions often skip over the reality that standing up to an abuser in the moment is rarely the end of the story. More often, it’s the start of a backlash – a wave of retaliation that can leave the victim wishing they’d never dared to stand their ground.
Living Under the Threat of Retaliation
In an abusive relationship, resistance is never just a spur-of-the-moment decision. It’s an exhausting cost-benefit analysis that happens daily, sometimes hourly. Victims learn to walk a tightrope, calculating every step to avoid triggering harm.
The punishments for defiance can vary, but they are always about restoring the abuser’s sense of control. In some cases, resistance is met with severe physical violence, and tragically, there are survivors who have been killed for far less.
In other cases, the abuse takes forms outsiders rarely see: calculated humiliation, relentless insults, days of silent treatment, threats to take or harm the children, cutting off access to money, sabotaging work opportunities, or spreading lies to friends and family to isolate the victim further.
This constant awareness of possible retribution means survivors must decide whether the cost of resisting is greater than the cost of complying. From the outside, compliance can look like weakness or acceptance. In reality, it is often a carefully chosen strategy to limit harm.
To permanently break free and leave the relationship, victims usually need to quietly plan without the abuser suspecting a thing. That can mean appearing as compliant as possible, even appeasing the abuser, while putting in place the steps that will allow them to leave safely.
How Abusers Use Their Partner’s Reactions to Tighten Control
One of the biggest dangers of pushing back is the way abusers can weaponise a victim’s reaction. What is often called “reactive abuse” — a term that unfairly implies the victim becomes the abuser — is better described as reactive defence. It happens when someone who has endured repeated provocation finally snaps, shouting back, breaking down, or even lashing out physically in a desperate moment.
Abusers know how to create these moments and exploit them. They might record the reaction or ensure there are witnesses, using it later to justify their own behaviour. “See? This is why I treat you this way,” they’ll say. They may spin the incident into a smear campaign, telling friends or family, “If only you knew what she’s really like.” They might use it in court to argue for custody or to secure a restraining order.
The consequences can be devastating. A survivor’s support network may shrink as people buy into the false narrative. Being labelled “crazy” or “unstable” can cause deep psychological harm, feeding into anxiety, depression, and self-doubt. Worst of all, the abuser’s control is reinforced. By flipping the script, they make the victim wary of ever defending themselves again, knowing it will be used against them. This is why many of the bold, confrontational actions suggested in “would have” statements – slapping them, shouting back, storming out – can severely backfire.
Why “I Would Have…” Can Land as Judgment
For someone who hasn’t lived in that constant state of risk calculation, it’s easy to imagine a decisive reaction in the moment. But when a survivor hears, “I’d have told him where to stick it,” or “I’d have walked out and never looked back,” there’s often an unspoken undertone: you were weak, or you didn’t do enough.
That implication, however unintentional, can be painful. Survivors may feel as though they’re being judged for not making the choice the other person imagines they would have made – without realising that such a choice might have brought far greater danger. For someone already carrying the weight of self-blame that abusers cultivate, this can deepen shame and isolation.
These comments also highlight the gulf between the survivor’s reality and the outsider’s perception. They remind the survivor that, no matter how clearly they explain the risks, there will always be people who underestimate the consequences they were facing.
What Survivors Need to Hear Instead
The most supportive responses don’t involve imagining what you would have done, they focus on acknowledging what they went through.
Instead of reaching for a “would have” scenario, you might say, “That must have been humiliating and hurtful,” or, “He put you in an impossible position, and that’s not okay.” Recognising that it wasn’t about wine or any other trivial detail, but about power and control, helps the survivor feel understood. Letting them know, “I believe you, and I’m here to listen,” creates safety, without judgment or pressure.
Shifting the Conversation Around Abuse
Changing how we talk about abuse means recognising that it is not a conflict between equals. It is a system in which one person deliberately creates consequences for any act of independence or resistance. From the outside, an act of defiance might look like a victory. From the inside, it can mean weeks of punishment.
When we replace “I would have…” with compassion and curiosity, we open the door for survivors to share more without fear of judgment. We acknowledge that survival often means making the choice that looks passive from the outside, but which keeps them and their children safest.
Survivors need others to understand that every decision they made was shaped by the constant threat of harm, and that staying alive and intact was the ultimate act of strength.
Featured image: Unhelpful responses to abuse can have a lasting impact on victims. Source: LIGHTFIELD STUDIOS / Adobe Stock.




Thank-you for writing this. Your words have been really crucial in my journey to understanding what happened to me. 🥹 Just hours ago, I took my first real step to leave a 17 year relationship that was built around a framework of coercive control. Along with other behaviors which I can now identify deeply rooted narcissistic personality disorder, I discovered that I had been conditioned at a very early age to believe this was love, that it was normal, and that I wasn’t being harmed. Somehow, despite 40 years of living this way, and developing debilitating sickness in my body, I found healing in trauma integration therapy, where I discovered a lifetime of operating with CPTSD. Now, I am finding joy again. I didn’t even know I was a musician and vocalist, an energy healer, and a teacher! I am a writer, a poet, a fashion designer, a visionary, a journalist, a humanitarian, an activist, and a powerful leader who is full of integrity, kindness, and grace. It is because of people like YOU that I have been able to continue to embody my truth, trust my instincts, and live this brand new amazing life as a person I hardly recognize, yet love more than anyone I’ve ever met before. Thank-you from the bottom of my heart. 💙
My relationship with my ex husband was "would have's."
I thought he had bipolar, and I was constantly telling him when he was in a "manic phase." I told him when he was acting inappropriately, and told him he needed better meds and to go back to the doctor.
I kept trying because he'd been my best friend for seven years before going off his rocker.
Hes way crazier than I realized, *and* he was doing the shit on purpose, claiming that he isn't mentally ill at all some times, and using it as a crutch at others.
He likely has schizotypal disorder (per the army) and covert narcissism (per a preponderance of recently divulged evidence).
He apparently (according to some) may have enjoyed the fact that I fought him on his bullshit, because it caused more drama.
I got so horrendously stressed out that it caused terrible autoimmune flares, weight gain, water retention (possible early organ failure sign), and chronic fatigue.
He never left, because he liked fighting me and making me miserable. He also didn't want to divide assets, and still believes he deserves to own me, my assets, and my labor.