I know what it feels like to lose yourself slowly inside a relationship — so slowly you don't notice until you look up one day and don't recognise who you've become.
I know the fear that sits underneath the idea of leaving. And even now, years into rebuilding my own life, I still understand the dread that can rise at the thought of ever going back.
I know what it feels like to fight for a marriage. To pray. To hope. To forgive, again and again. To suggest counselling. To believe, honestly and stubbornly, that things could still change.
This book wasn't written by someone who walked away at the first sign of difficulty. It was written by someone who understands, deeply, that a healthy relationship needs two willing hearts — because one person cannot build it alone, no matter how hard she tries.
My passion for this subject is also tied to someone I loved very much. My close friend Bukky — a woman I stood beside as chief bridesmaid — died in an abusive relationship. Within months, the man who had hurt her was already publicly moving on with someone else. I share this gently, and only because it's part of why this matters so much to me: a woman's life, her identity, her future — they matter, and they are worth protecting.
I don't have all the answers. I'm not a therapist, a financial adviser, or a domestic-abuse professional. I'm a woman who has lived this, rebuilt through it, and wants other women to know that rebuilding is possible for them too.
— Ronke Joseph
