'When my friends stopped calling, I knew something was up. Then I learnt what my ex had done.'

As told to Ann DeGrey.

I absolutely loved my partner Howard* during the first three years of our married life. He really was the kind of guy who made you feel like you were the only woman in the world. But over time, that charm turned to control.

It was very subtle at first; persistent questions about where I was going, who I was seeing, why I hadn't answered his texts quickly enough. Then came the nasty remarks disguised as jokes, the way he'd monitor my spending or comment on my friends like they were a bad influence.

By the time I realised what was happening, I felt like a shadow of the woman I once was. I was always treading on eggshells. I'd stopped seeing my friends and I second-guessed everything I did. He wasn't physically violent, but his words cut deep, and the way he manipulated me made me feel like a prisoner.

Watch: What is coercive control? Post continues after video.

Leaving him was one of the hardest decisions I've ever made. I was terrified of what he'd do, how he'd react. When I finally walked out, I didn't realise I was walking into a different kind of nightmare.

At first, it was little things. Mutual friends stopped returning my calls. Business inquiries dried up. Clients I'd worked with for years suddenly decided to "go in another direction". I couldn't figure out what was going on until one day, a woman I barely knew approached me at an event.

"I just want you to know that I don't believe what your ex is saying about you. I know he's just bitter," she said.

When I asked her to explain she said, "He's been telling people that you're a violent alcoholic. That you used to throw things at him. That you were drunk all the time and that's why he had to leave you."

I couldn't believe it! I wanted to laugh at how absurd it sounded, but all I could do was stand there, stunned. I told the woman that they were false allegations, and he is just very angry that I left him.

Damaging gossip. That's what my life had been reduced to.

A few days later, I bumped into a former client at a café. She gave me one of those fake smiles and, when I tried to chat with her, she told me she was busy. It was very awkward; she used to be very friendly towards me.

Then, another time, I saw a former client who said, "I hope you're getting the help you need."

I hit back very quickly, asking her if she could tell me what bulls**t story she'd heard from my ex-husband. She told me Howard had said I had a drinking problem and I'd also experienced a nervous breakdown.

I told her, "This is not true. Howard has been spreading lies about me. He's angry I left him, and this is his way of getting back at me."

The former client said, "I'm sure it's complicated," to which I replied, "It's not complicated; he's lying." She nodded and ended the conversation, leaving me feeling both furious and humiliated.

It doesn't matter that the lies are ridiculous. It doesn't matter that anyone who truly knows me would see right through them. What matters is that people love a scandal. And once the seed of doubt is planted, it grows.

I think what hurts the most is how easy it was for Howard to turn people against me. These were friends who'd been in my life for years, clients who'd trusted me with their business, people who I thought knew me. And yet, one man's bitter campaign has managed to undo so much of what I've built.

It's like trying to scrub off a stain that won't come out. No matter how much I protest, how much I explain, the mud sticks.

Some nights, I lie awake replaying conversations in my head, wondering if I could've said something differently to make people believe me. Other nights, I'm filled with rage — at my ex for doing this to me, at myself for not seeing this side of him sooner.

But most of the time, I just feel sad. Sad that someone I once loved could hate me this much. Sad that his need for revenge has cost me so much. Sad that people I trusted didn't trust me in return. I've thought about legal action, but proving defamation is very difficult and expensive.

Some people will always choose the more dramatic version of events, no matter how much evidence you give them. And some stains, no matter how hard you try, will never completely wash out.

Thankfully, I've found new clients who respect my work, and new friends who see me for who I am, not who my ex says I am. It's not easy, and some days it feels like one step forward, two steps back. But the truth has a way of surfacing, even if it takes time.

*Names have been changed to maintain the author's privacy.

Feature Image: Getty.