fighting every day for normality, for some sense of clarity and I had not realised my soul was being damaged and torn into pieces without me realising it. My clothes became an issue from not having permission to wear certain items of clothing that revealed too much ‘flesh’ which in hindsight was such a joke as he would dress as casual as he wanted but I had to fight to wear something so modest. Then the other aspects of control began; financial control is what my counsellor called it, but I hadn’t even realised that was even occurring to someone who was worldly−wise and such a smart cookie and outspoken. I was the only one working in our relationship at that time. The house rent, the bills, the food, the clothes we both wore on our backs was from me and my income alone; let alone any other expenses that came along the way which