I Know Why You Stayed

A venus flytrap doesn’t snap shut right away. It lures. It waits. It offers sweetness and nectar and safety. It lets its prey crawl inside, lets it settle, lets it believe it’s safe. The jaws only close after repeated contact, after the plant has learned that the prey is far enough away from the exit.

No animal walks into a trap believing it will die there. Traps work because they look harmless at first. Because they promise safety, warmth, or food. Because by the time the danger is clear, it is too late.

When people ask why someone didn’t leave sooner, I wonder how many of them understand how traps actually work.

When someone hears about a bad relationship, the first thing they often ask is, “Why didn’t you leave sooner?”

We’ve all been there, right? Had a conversation where someone’s eyes widen in disbelief, as if the choice to stay was an easy no. As if leaving is as simple as grabbing your keys and booking it out of the door. And if you are lucky enough to have not been on the receiving end of that question, I hope you stop asking it.

It’s one of those questions that feels like an accusation, even if it’s not meant that way. It makes you feel like that person will look at you like you are stupid, always wondering why you would “choose” abuse. I still feel anxious around people who asked me that because it feels like a shut down. They aren’t asking if you’re okay, or what happened, they are asking why you didn’t do something different. As if the problem wasn’t just…