I Helped My Friend Escape Abuse… and She Destroyed My Life

I did not change anyone’s name in here. I’m not trying to hide.

I’ve kept quiet for a long time—not because I didn’t have anything to say, but because I was trying to protect my peace. I gave someone I once considered a friend every benefit of the doubt. I opened my home, my heart, and my trust. In return, I was disrespected, manipulated, and made to look like the villain.

When Chanda came into my life, she was struggling. She told me she had just escaped an emotionally and financially abusive relationship. I didn’t know the guy, only what she told me. I helped her file for a protection order and invited her to live with me so she could have a fresh start. I covered her rent and utilities, supported her emotionally, and offered her space to heal. I brought her into my world like family. But good intentions don’t matter when someone takes advantage of them.

Over time, patterns started to emerge. She would ask for help, then complain about how it was given. She said one thing to my face and another behind my back. She crossed boundaries constantly—going into private rooms, using other people’s bathrooms, leaving soiled guinea pig bedding in the washer. She claimed to be doing chores or contributing when in reality, there were receipts and camera footage proving otherwise. When confronted, she’d cry, deflect, or use her trauma to shut the conversation down. It became impossible to address anything without it turning into a meltdown.

She gossiped about everyone in the house while pretending to be their friend. She twisted facts and told different versions of events to different people to keep them on her side. She sold explicit content behind her boyfriend’s back and laughed about it. She lied about financial contributions, even while I was giving her more breaks than anyone else ever would. And when I reached my breaking point, I made a mistake—I went through her phone. I know that was wrong, but I couldn’t handle being lied to anymore. I needed the truth, and I found it.

The final straw was when she turned my little sister against me. She told her a secret she had no full context on—something I had kept from my sister because I didn’t think it was her business. I admit I hurt my sister by lying and keeping that secret. But that was between us. Chanda’s interference destroyed our relationship. My sister doesn’t speak to me anymore, and it caused a ripple effect that hurt not only me but another close relationship in her life as well.

Toward the end, things escalated beyond words. Chanda’s boyfriend screamed in my face, threatened me, and told me he would put his hands on me. He got in my personal space, trying to intimidate me, and I genuinely feared for my safety. And what did Chanda do? She stood there silently or walked around collecting her things—saying nothing. She didn’t defend me, de-escalate the situation, or even acknowledge how wrong it was. She told me she was moving out, and for the first time in a long while, I felt relief. I was done. She had hurt me worse than anyone ever had.

I’m not sharing this to be petty or vindictive. I’m sharing it because I don’t want anything to do with her anymore. If you’re a mutual friend or in contact with her, don’t update me, don’t pass on messages, and don’t expect me to be okay with her presence in my life. And if you’ve read this and still choose to believe her over me, I ask that you unfriend or block me. She doesn’t deserve to see me heal, grow, or succeed—not after everything she did.

This is my truth. I have the receipts, the screenshots, and the story. I’ve been quiet long enough.