What happens when you see clearly that your loved one is being abused, but the people who are supposed to help not only ignore the harm, they actively protect the abuser?

What happens when the system you turn to for justice—social services, police, courts—isn’t neutral, but biased, racially charged, and financially motivated?

You know what’s happening.
Your loved one knows too, but they are too afraid to speak. They’ve been conditioned to accept what they are going through as if it’s nothing happening.
But the game being played isn’t about truth. It’s about power.

A Game of Power, Control, and Profit

You try to protect your loved one, but instead, you’re shut out.

Authorities cite adult autonomy, but you know it’s a smokescreen.

Behind the scenes:

• The abuser profits emotionally or financially from maintaining control.
  
• The system profits through funding from social service cases.
  
• The authorities collaborate or look away, especially when their own biases align with the abuser’s position of power.

And at the center of it all:

• Your loved one, likely medicated or manipulated, becomes the tool—depersonalized, dehumanized, and used to reinforce a power structure that benefits everyone but himself and those who genuinely care.

And Then There’s Race:

You are Black.
The abuser is white.
The authorities are white.

Let’s be honest: This dynamic would look very different if the roles were reversed.

You are not imagining things.

• If you were a white woman reporting this abuse, you might be believed.
  
• If the abuser were a Black man controlling a white woman, the response would be swift and severe.
  
• But as a Black person advocating for your loved one, especially in a white-dominated system, your voice is treated as irrational, disruptive, even dangerous.
  

That’s racism. That’s injustice. And it’s real.

What Can You Do When It Feels Hopeless?

1. Acknowledge the truth.
   You’re not crazy. You’re not imagining this. The gaslighting isn’t just personal—it’s institutional. Naming it is an act of power.
   
2. Document everything.
   Keep a paper trail of every action you take, every conversation, every denial. Racism and abuse thrive in silence and “he said/she said” ambiguity.
   
3. Speak with purpose.
   You may not be able to out-power the system, but you can outlast it. Speak calmly, clearly, and with unwavering truth. Truth unsettles lies.
   
4. Find allies outside the system.
   Seek out Black advocacy organizations, legal watchdogs, racial justice movements, and journalists. Sometimes your breakthrough will come from someone with no institutional ties but real moral courage.
   
5. Protect your mind and spirit.
   Rage, grief, and helplessness are understandable—but don’t let them consume you. Your clarity, your peace, and your faith are your resistance.
   

You Are Not Alone

There are many people—especially Black women and men—who have faced this same heartbreaking intersection of personal trauma, systemic betrayal, and racial injustice.

You are not invisible.
You are not irrational.
You are not alone.

And you are not powerless.

Your voice matters.
Your presence matters.
Your love matters, even when the system pretends it doesn’t.

When You Feel Overwhelmed to Save a Loved One from Abuse: What Can You Do?

What do you do when your thoughts are consumed—not by fear for yourself—but by deep concern for a loved one who is being abused, manipulated, and controlled?

What do you do when every effort you make to protect or rescue them seems to backfire?

This is the heartbreaking reality for many people who love someone trapped in an abusive, coercively controlled relationship, especially when the abuse is covert, protected, or even reinforced by people in authority; those paid to protect and serve the community.

The Situation: A Heartbreaking Trap

Imagine this:

• Your loved one is being harmed and isolated by an abuser.
  
• You’ve tried everything—calling for help, working with authorities, even providing accommodation and emotional support.
  
• But instead of receiving help, the systems that are meant to protect—police, social workers, legal authorities—seem to side with the abuser.
  
• Worse, your loved one, under the abuser’s influence (and possibly medicated or manipulated), begins pushing you away and telling you to leave them alone.
  
• And these same authorities justify their refusal to act by saying things like, “They’re an adult,” or “They have not given permission,”—all while the control and abuse continue behind the scenes.
  

You begin to feel powerless, hopeless, and defeated.

You see the danger.
They know what is happening but pretend as if nothing is happening. They are setting a trap to separate you from your loved one because they think you are powerless.
And they are supposed to be the people who should help? But they’re helping the harm continue.

The Questions: What Can You Do?

1. What do you do when your thoughts are consumed by the abuse your loved one is enduring?

• Accept that your concern is valid. You are not overreacting. When you love someone, it is natural to feel consumed by their pain.
  
• But you must protect your mental health. Because if you fall apart, you’ll have even less ability to help when the opportunity arises.
  
• Create boundaries around your thoughts. It’s okay to take breaks from the obsession. You are not abandoning them by protecting your own mind. In fact, you’re preserving your ability to be strong when it matters.
  

Tip: Give yourself permission to “put down” the worry for specific times of the day. Even 15 minutes of mindful distraction can help reset your brain.

2. What if everything you’ve done to help seems to have made it worse?

• Know that you are not the failure—the system is. When abusers have enablers in positions of power, it creates a nearly invisible wall of protection around them.
  
• Strategize instead of reacting. If direct efforts aren’t working, shift to indirect support: stay available, leave open lines of communication, and document everything.
  
• Don’t stop praying or going to church. Spiritual support may not fix the situation, but it strengthens you to keep going.
  

3. What if your loved one says they don’t want you anymore?

• Understand this may not be their voice. Trauma bonding, manipulation, medication, and fear can all alter a person’s ability to express their true feelings.
  
• Believe in your bond—but don’t force it. Make it clear you are still there, without pressuring them to choose you.
  
• Leave breadcrumbs of love. A message, a card, a memory—small things that remind them of who you are and the safety you offer.
  

4. What if the abuser has allies in authority who are helping them alienate you?

• This is the hardest part. When people in power become tools of abuse, it’s devastating. But you are not without power.
  
• Document everything. Keep records of every interaction, email, report, and witness.
  
• Find outside help. Look for advocates, journalists, or independent legal aid. Sometimes, power must be challenged from the outside in.
  

What You Can Do When You Can’t ‘Fix’ It Right Now:

• Care for your own emotional health so you can be a stable presence when your loved one is ready to reach out.
  
• Stay gently visible. Don’t disappear, but don’t smother. Let them know you’re there—calm, loving, and nonjudgmental.
  
• Join support groups. Talk to others who’ve gone through this. You are not alone.
  
• Advocate quietly. Educate yourself about coercive control laws, mental health rights, and legal options. Sometimes, knowledge is the leverage you’ll need later.

A Final Word

The truth is: you may not be able to rescue them today.
But your strength, your love, and your persistence may be the lifeline they one day grab when they’re ready.

Your job right now isn’t to force a rescue.

It’s to be the light that doesn’t go out—even when the night seems endless.

Written by Bess JT