One of the most striking differences in how abuse is remembered and recounted lies in who is doing the talking. Survivors and abusers tend to tell entirely different kinds of stories, not just with different content, but with different focus. This distinction isn’t just anecdotal; it’s backed by years of psychological research and survivor testimony.
Survivors of abuse usually focus on what happened. Their stories are centered around actions and events. “He hit me.” “They threatened to kill me.” “She took my phone, my money, my keys.” These are straightforward statements of fact. They reflect the survivor’s attempt to describe their experience, often after a long period of being silenced.
Abusers, on the other hand, rarely speak in terms of what they did. Instead, they focus on why they did it. And that “why” almost always centers on the survivor’s character. “He’s manipulative.” “She’s a terrible mother.” “They are crazy.” These aren’t descriptions of actions. They are attacks on identity, and they serve one purpose: to justify the abuse and discredit the victim.
This dynamic isn’t random. It’s part of a well-documented pattern that psychologists and legal professionals recognize as a form of narrative control. One especially relevant concept here is DARVO —Deny, Attack, and Reverse Victim and Offender — a term coined by psychologist Jennifer Freyd. DARVO describes how perpetrators of abuse often deny what they did, attack the credibility of the victim, and then claim they are the ones being victimized.
So instead of owning the behavior (eg. violence, threats, control) the abuser flips the story. Suddenly, it’s not “I hit her,” it’s “She pushed me to my limit.” Not “I stalked them,” but “They are making a scene because they are unstable.”
The goal? Justification. Minimization. Blame-shifting. And in far too many cases, it works.
This shift in narrative focus, from action to character, also aligns with well-established principles of attribution theory in psychology. Survivors tend to make situational attributions: they describe what happened to them. Abusers make dispositional attributions: they describe what’s supposedly wrong with the survivor.
The result is a warped narrative that puts the survivor on the defensive. Instead of the abuser being questioned about their behavior, the survivor is grilled about their personality. Are they vindictive? Are they unstable? Are they lying? These character assassinations are especially dangerous in legal settings like custody battles, where credibility is everything and the stakes couldn’t be higher.
Gaslighting often plays a central role here. By repeatedly questioning the survivor’s memory, emotions, and even sanity, the abuser erodes not just the survivor’s credibility, but often times the victim’s own self-trust. Over time, survivors may begin to doubt their own version of events, especially when friends, family, or even courts start to echo the abuser’s narrative.
And while the public often asks “Why didn’t she just leave?”, the better question might be: “How does someone leave when their entire identity has been dismantled in the process?”
Understanding these storytelling patterns matters, not just for survivors, but for those of us who work with them. Attorneys, judges, therapists, and even friends must learn to recognize when someone is describing what was done to them versus when someone is attacking who another person is. That difference isn’t just semantics. It’s the difference between accountability and abuse disguised as justification.
So the next time you hear a story about abuse, listen closely: Are you hearing about actions, or about character? That might tell you everything you need to know about who’s telling the truth.
The Divorce Artist™️ 