Most of you don't know. Some of you know some of it, and others know more. No one knows it all because that is what abuse does. It isolates. It hides truth.
I can't hide anymore.
For the last 5 months I have been in an abusive relationship.
I know that I have posted photos of fun adventures, lots of smiles, and a handsome man to boot. But I have spent the last 5 months being manipulated and degraded and gaslighted and abused.
Many of you are probably wondering why I posted the happy photos then. Well, I'm 33 with no strong family ties, no close friends, no children, and a slew of failed relationships. At my age it's easy to feel like your relationship status puts you into a caste system of sorts. Single. Married. Divorced. Etc. We all have our own judgments about the types of people who fall into each category. That's a blog post for another time.
At 33 you start to wonder if you'll ever find someone with whom to make a family and spend your life. Your standards start to dip. You no longer require too much. You just simply want to be loved, and seen and heard.
In case you're wondering, these are really hard words to write. It's hard because I've heard from so many people things like, "Once you stop looking, they will find you" or "It's better to be single than to be with the wrong person" or "It will happen for you one day". To those of you thinking those things or any variation thereof, I say, shut the fuck up, please.
I made my life look great on social media because I want people to believe that about me. I don't want people to see my loneliness, my fear, my grief, my frustration. Because those feel like an endless ocean of dark water that if I step in, will consume me and from which I will never return.
And if we're being honest, no one wants "Negative Nancy". That's what some friends used to call me. No one wants the neediness and the anger that doesn't end. No one wants that person across their news feed. As my this ex would say, no one wants me to be my actual self.
So when a handsome man comes along and sweeps you off of your feet you want so badly to believe it. You convince yourself that if you just give a little more and try a little harder it can really work. You tell yourself that relationships take work. You have to learn to communicate with another individual and if you can just figure that out, you'll have a successful relationship and be happy. I set out to do everything differently than I had in the past. I was fully committed to learning this person so I could be a great girlfriend.
And then there was the first time the name-calling started. We had been out with friends and had a late night in the city. We had been drinking, and I was having difficulty finding us an Uber home. I walked up the block to see if I could locate an Uber, and I realized he had walked off in his own direction without me. Immediately, when I called him to let him know I was on a street corner in the early hours of morning by myself he began to say things. "You're so stupid" "Fuck you" etc.
I became angry and probably said a couple of things similarly back to him. I finally found an Uber and made my way back to my house. I told him to pick up his stuff, and we were over. Once he got to my house he continued in person calling me names like "slut, cunt, bitch", etc.
I was stunned. I could not believe this person who had been amazing and magical and said such flattering things to me for the first month could turn into a monster so quickly. What had I done so badly to piss him off?
But the next day as I started to miss him, I began to make excuses....We had been drinking...I said mean things too... I walked away from him too...Maybe it was an off night...I get angry when I drink sometimes too...
He was certain I would never talk to him again after that, but I wanted to give him another chance. We all deserve a pass sometimes. However, now I think back to that night, I realize that I should have walked away then. All of my friends told me that if he was doing that only a month into the relationship, it would only get worse. They were right.
The part I think that makes me the most susceptible to accepting this behavior is the fact that I have messed up relationships in major ways by also allowing my anger to get out of control and say things I don't mean. I have done some terrible things in relationships and have received numerous passes for my behavior. Ultimately, much of my own bad behavior has led to ruined relationships and hurting people I care about. So I truly want to give the forgiveness that I recognize I have also needed at times.
We fell into a cycle, and the behavior continued. Things would be great for almost a week, and then there would be a huge blow up. Our fights never seemed to be about anything real though. He would blow up over seemingly innocuous things. Because I said something he didn't like. Because I acted too emotionally. Anytime I ever tried to come to him with my emotions he rejected them. He didn't want a Negative Nancy. He didn't want me.
We would have a discussion, and he would say something I didn't understand. He would reply to my confusion by saying he would explain it like he was speaking to a 5-year old. I would try to explain myself and use an experience from a previous relationship as an example, and he would get up an walk out of the room. He would respond when I told him that he was acting ridiculous by saying that I was "stupid as shit."
We couldn't ever talk about how his words made me feel. He had to turn it back around and accuse me of the same behavior. But because it was me instead of him doing it, that made me worse. He would call me names. When I called him names in an effort to defend myself he would use that as proof that I was guilty of the same behavior. But I was always worse. It was unladylike. No guy wants a girl to speak like that. I used too many curse words for a girl, though he would rarely make sense because he used the "f word" so much during one of his lectures that I could not understand what he was saying. But somehow, I was worse still.
There were multiple occasions he left me in the middle of a restaurant or a bar and made me walk home by myself. There was one occasion that he threw me out of his house along with all of my things in front of his best friend. There was a camping trip at the lake where he took me paddleboarding and called me a "cunt" so no one else could hear him.
Then last weekend we went to Aspen. Everything was going well. We spent the day biking and walking around the town. That night we had plans to go dancing. I began driving us and using Google Maps to navigate my way from Smowmass to Aspen. I made a wrong turn. As I was turning around he was telling me that he knew the way, and I should ignore the app. I said no, and he called me stupid. I responded, "We're going this way, dickface." (Needless to say, I never take being called stupid well) He began to call me a barrage of names...stupid...idiot...I'm a joke...I'm a loser...no man wants me. So I said that we were going home. He told me to pull the car over. He was planning on making me walk in the cold in heels over a mile uphill back to the hotel.
I pulled the car over, and he continued to yell at me, ordering me to get out of the car. I refused. He then grabbed my neck to choke me. He quickly released but got out of the car to come around to the driver's side to physically pull me out of the car. I still resisted and refused. As the insults continued I became enraged. Needless to say, I don't take physical assault well, either. I stepped on the gas. I drove his car right into the ditch...on purpose. Negative Nancy was released just for a minute.
He went into full meltdown mode. I got out of the car and began walking. By that time, it was clear that walking in the cold was the safer less painful option. He hopped into the driver's seat while his passenger door was still open and began trying to get the car out of the ditch. He ended up getting it further stuck and bending his passenger door to the point that it no longer functioned as a door just dangling off the side of his car.
As I walked away, I looked up and saw police lights coming down the hill. I was sure they were coming for us.
Throughout the following days, I became hyper emotional. All of this anger bubbled up within me, and I had no idea how to get it out. How had I let myself be such a fool? I began researching signs of emotional abuse, and it turns out that I was a match. As I read more and more the anger and sadness enveloped me. I learned what the term "gaslighting" meant. I learned that I possessed every symptom of emotional abuse, and he exhibited every sign of an emotional abuser.
I'm embarrassed to say that I still hung on. Maybe I just had a way of pressing his buttons. Maybe if he could see how much he hurt me. Maybe if I confront him with the evidence. Maybe if I just wait for the perfect time to tell him how I feel.
So I patiently waited about a week. I let him sleep next to me. We watched TV, and I let him borrow my car while his was in the shop. I told him I loved him, and carried on like normal. But I found myself in my alone time emotional, feeling like I was going to explode.
Finally, I asked him politely if it was a good time to talk. He said 'no' like always. I told him that since he was on call over the weekend and there was no guarantee we would have time to talk, a sunny afternoon spent outside was the best place. I wasn't trying to fight, but we did just have the cops called and serious property damaged the weekend prior.
I began by stating that the relationship had turned abusive. I began by telling him that there is no way to move onto the good stuff and work on learning to communicate better when there were temper tantrums and name-calling and abuse. As I spoke, the tears just overwhelmed me. The anger and the hurt that had been sitting for so long just below the surface had risen up. All I could do was cry.
I am rarely the one crying in a relationship, but I can say I have never felt so frustrated in a relationship. I honestly felt like I had tried everything. My tears were me at the end of myself.
I found myself holding onto one thing. I told myself that if he could acknowledge how he hurt me, there was hope. I wanted the relationship to work so badly. I felt like we had all of the bones of a great relationship if he would just care and try. As I continued to talk through my tears he became frustrated. He didn't want to listen. He wanted to talk. I sat there begging him to just listen to me. Begging. I explained that I had so much emotion pent up with no one to talk to hoping to find the perfect time and place for him to listen. I needed him to hear me so badly. The relationship depended on it.
It never occurred to me that there would never be a perfect time and place because he never cared about me. He didn't want to hear anything I had to say. He only cared about himself and what he had to say. He wanted me to know that in spite of my tears, I was still worse.
He walked away as I sat there sobbing from over 5 months worth of abuse. That was probably the best thing he could have done for me. It hurt, but I knew I had given him his last chance. The one hope I was holding onto was snuffed out.
Now I'm sitting here wondering where this leaves me. Who is this person I have let myself become? Am I that desperate? I'm embarrassed. Everyone told me to leave him, and I couldn't find the strength. What does that say about me? My struggle to maintain my dignity led me to become what many would call "crazy". I'm sure if he was telling the story it would be a tale of a bat-shit crazy girl who "never wanted to hear about herself" (he told me this daily).
But I kept posting the happy photos. I kept suggesting more trips and more self-help books and couples therapy. I kept ignoring my feelings. I concluded that men aren't supposed to care about those anyway.
So I'm writing to tell you that I'm broken right now. I'm writing to tell you that I feel so alone, unloved, and un-worthy of love. I'm writing to tell you to never trust what you see on social media. I'm writing to tell you that abuse is sneaky and real. I'm writing to tell you that it takes time to heal. I'm writing to tell you the truth. I'm writing to get it out. Hoping that writing it will get the anger and sadness and grief out of my body, on the outside of me instead of the inside where it's destroying me.
I'm writing to tell you that the hardest part has been that there has been no one to talk to. My family and friends told me to leave him, and became frustrated with my yo-yo relationship. They want to tell me what to do without listening. They don't know how to spot abuse. They don't understand why I kept going back. They didn't really try to understand either.
They also know me well. There is indeed two sides to every story. I have not been perfect in the relationship. I KNOW how to push someone's buttons and make them angry. If I could make a living at button pushing, I would be rich. I guess that's where things get tricky and sticky. It's easy to overlook abuse because there are two sides. But I found myself acting out in strange ways...calling names...damaging his stuff...in an effort to hold onto my dignity. What kind of person would I be if I didn't put up a fight?
But abuse is so much more than that. It's the person telling you things happened differently than what you remember. It's the person telling you that you shouldn't tell the couples' counselor everything. It's the person telling you that being in the relationship is your choice, but it's also your only choice. It's the person telling you that you've never been engaged because you're such a terrible person. It's the person telling you that you're just too sensitive. It's the person telling you that you're always angry and that's why they don't love you. It's fake apologies just to get you to shut up. It's the threats to leave if you don't let them do what they want. It's the "tit for tat" in every conversation.
Abuse is even more than that. Abuse is telling you that no other person has made them feel like this. It's telling you that you would make a great wife and mother. It's telling you that you're so beautiful (a "9" to be exact). It's great sex, and fun nights out. There's deep connection and plenty of things in common and intense physical attraction. There's so much good mixed in with the constant domination and scrutiny in the background. It's having a calm conversation and the straight face when he says, "I'll fuck you up" over this very blog post.
So here I am scared to post this, and much of my words are for my own documentation purposes. I know he won't like it, but my emotions have become uncontrollable. My behavior has become erratic. I am fluctuating between sadness and rage. I'm embarrassed and don't want pity. But I also don't have a fucking single person to talk to. I'm not talking about a one-time pow-wow. I'm talking about someone to express this deep-seeded rage that won't end. I'm talking about when I talk to him and don't know if I'm crazy or he is. I'm talking about feeling so completely alone in this, because I AM. I so so so am. And writing this is the only way I have to get it out. But it just feels like I need to get it out over and over and over again. There's no one for that.
That's abuse.
I can't hide anymore.
For the last 5 months I have been in an abusive relationship.
I know that I have posted photos of fun adventures, lots of smiles, and a handsome man to boot. But I have spent the last 5 months being manipulated and degraded and gaslighted and abused.
Many of you are probably wondering why I posted the happy photos then. Well, I'm 33 with no strong family ties, no close friends, no children, and a slew of failed relationships. At my age it's easy to feel like your relationship status puts you into a caste system of sorts. Single. Married. Divorced. Etc. We all have our own judgments about the types of people who fall into each category. That's a blog post for another time.
At 33 you start to wonder if you'll ever find someone with whom to make a family and spend your life. Your standards start to dip. You no longer require too much. You just simply want to be loved, and seen and heard.
In case you're wondering, these are really hard words to write. It's hard because I've heard from so many people things like, "Once you stop looking, they will find you" or "It's better to be single than to be with the wrong person" or "It will happen for you one day". To those of you thinking those things or any variation thereof, I say, shut the fuck up, please.
I made my life look great on social media because I want people to believe that about me. I don't want people to see my loneliness, my fear, my grief, my frustration. Because those feel like an endless ocean of dark water that if I step in, will consume me and from which I will never return.
And if we're being honest, no one wants "Negative Nancy". That's what some friends used to call me. No one wants the neediness and the anger that doesn't end. No one wants that person across their news feed. As my this ex would say, no one wants me to be my actual self.
So when a handsome man comes along and sweeps you off of your feet you want so badly to believe it. You convince yourself that if you just give a little more and try a little harder it can really work. You tell yourself that relationships take work. You have to learn to communicate with another individual and if you can just figure that out, you'll have a successful relationship and be happy. I set out to do everything differently than I had in the past. I was fully committed to learning this person so I could be a great girlfriend.
And then there was the first time the name-calling started. We had been out with friends and had a late night in the city. We had been drinking, and I was having difficulty finding us an Uber home. I walked up the block to see if I could locate an Uber, and I realized he had walked off in his own direction without me. Immediately, when I called him to let him know I was on a street corner in the early hours of morning by myself he began to say things. "You're so stupid" "Fuck you" etc.
I became angry and probably said a couple of things similarly back to him. I finally found an Uber and made my way back to my house. I told him to pick up his stuff, and we were over. Once he got to my house he continued in person calling me names like "slut, cunt, bitch", etc.
I was stunned. I could not believe this person who had been amazing and magical and said such flattering things to me for the first month could turn into a monster so quickly. What had I done so badly to piss him off?
But the next day as I started to miss him, I began to make excuses....We had been drinking...I said mean things too... I walked away from him too...Maybe it was an off night...I get angry when I drink sometimes too...
He was certain I would never talk to him again after that, but I wanted to give him another chance. We all deserve a pass sometimes. However, now I think back to that night, I realize that I should have walked away then. All of my friends told me that if he was doing that only a month into the relationship, it would only get worse. They were right.
The part I think that makes me the most susceptible to accepting this behavior is the fact that I have messed up relationships in major ways by also allowing my anger to get out of control and say things I don't mean. I have done some terrible things in relationships and have received numerous passes for my behavior. Ultimately, much of my own bad behavior has led to ruined relationships and hurting people I care about. So I truly want to give the forgiveness that I recognize I have also needed at times.
We fell into a cycle, and the behavior continued. Things would be great for almost a week, and then there would be a huge blow up. Our fights never seemed to be about anything real though. He would blow up over seemingly innocuous things. Because I said something he didn't like. Because I acted too emotionally. Anytime I ever tried to come to him with my emotions he rejected them. He didn't want a Negative Nancy. He didn't want me.
We would have a discussion, and he would say something I didn't understand. He would reply to my confusion by saying he would explain it like he was speaking to a 5-year old. I would try to explain myself and use an experience from a previous relationship as an example, and he would get up an walk out of the room. He would respond when I told him that he was acting ridiculous by saying that I was "stupid as shit."
We couldn't ever talk about how his words made me feel. He had to turn it back around and accuse me of the same behavior. But because it was me instead of him doing it, that made me worse. He would call me names. When I called him names in an effort to defend myself he would use that as proof that I was guilty of the same behavior. But I was always worse. It was unladylike. No guy wants a girl to speak like that. I used too many curse words for a girl, though he would rarely make sense because he used the "f word" so much during one of his lectures that I could not understand what he was saying. But somehow, I was worse still.
There were multiple occasions he left me in the middle of a restaurant or a bar and made me walk home by myself. There was one occasion that he threw me out of his house along with all of my things in front of his best friend. There was a camping trip at the lake where he took me paddleboarding and called me a "cunt" so no one else could hear him.
Then last weekend we went to Aspen. Everything was going well. We spent the day biking and walking around the town. That night we had plans to go dancing. I began driving us and using Google Maps to navigate my way from Smowmass to Aspen. I made a wrong turn. As I was turning around he was telling me that he knew the way, and I should ignore the app. I said no, and he called me stupid. I responded, "We're going this way, dickface." (Needless to say, I never take being called stupid well) He began to call me a barrage of names...stupid...idiot...I'm a joke...I'm a loser...no man wants me. So I said that we were going home. He told me to pull the car over. He was planning on making me walk in the cold in heels over a mile uphill back to the hotel.
I pulled the car over, and he continued to yell at me, ordering me to get out of the car. I refused. He then grabbed my neck to choke me. He quickly released but got out of the car to come around to the driver's side to physically pull me out of the car. I still resisted and refused. As the insults continued I became enraged. Needless to say, I don't take physical assault well, either. I stepped on the gas. I drove his car right into the ditch...on purpose. Negative Nancy was released just for a minute.
He went into full meltdown mode. I got out of the car and began walking. By that time, it was clear that walking in the cold was the safer less painful option. He hopped into the driver's seat while his passenger door was still open and began trying to get the car out of the ditch. He ended up getting it further stuck and bending his passenger door to the point that it no longer functioned as a door just dangling off the side of his car.
As I walked away, I looked up and saw police lights coming down the hill. I was sure they were coming for us.
Throughout the following days, I became hyper emotional. All of this anger bubbled up within me, and I had no idea how to get it out. How had I let myself be such a fool? I began researching signs of emotional abuse, and it turns out that I was a match. As I read more and more the anger and sadness enveloped me. I learned what the term "gaslighting" meant. I learned that I possessed every symptom of emotional abuse, and he exhibited every sign of an emotional abuser.
I'm embarrassed to say that I still hung on. Maybe I just had a way of pressing his buttons. Maybe if he could see how much he hurt me. Maybe if I confront him with the evidence. Maybe if I just wait for the perfect time to tell him how I feel.
So I patiently waited about a week. I let him sleep next to me. We watched TV, and I let him borrow my car while his was in the shop. I told him I loved him, and carried on like normal. But I found myself in my alone time emotional, feeling like I was going to explode.
Finally, I asked him politely if it was a good time to talk. He said 'no' like always. I told him that since he was on call over the weekend and there was no guarantee we would have time to talk, a sunny afternoon spent outside was the best place. I wasn't trying to fight, but we did just have the cops called and serious property damaged the weekend prior.
I began by stating that the relationship had turned abusive. I began by telling him that there is no way to move onto the good stuff and work on learning to communicate better when there were temper tantrums and name-calling and abuse. As I spoke, the tears just overwhelmed me. The anger and the hurt that had been sitting for so long just below the surface had risen up. All I could do was cry.
I am rarely the one crying in a relationship, but I can say I have never felt so frustrated in a relationship. I honestly felt like I had tried everything. My tears were me at the end of myself.
I found myself holding onto one thing. I told myself that if he could acknowledge how he hurt me, there was hope. I wanted the relationship to work so badly. I felt like we had all of the bones of a great relationship if he would just care and try. As I continued to talk through my tears he became frustrated. He didn't want to listen. He wanted to talk. I sat there begging him to just listen to me. Begging. I explained that I had so much emotion pent up with no one to talk to hoping to find the perfect time and place for him to listen. I needed him to hear me so badly. The relationship depended on it.
It never occurred to me that there would never be a perfect time and place because he never cared about me. He didn't want to hear anything I had to say. He only cared about himself and what he had to say. He wanted me to know that in spite of my tears, I was still worse.
He walked away as I sat there sobbing from over 5 months worth of abuse. That was probably the best thing he could have done for me. It hurt, but I knew I had given him his last chance. The one hope I was holding onto was snuffed out.
Now I'm sitting here wondering where this leaves me. Who is this person I have let myself become? Am I that desperate? I'm embarrassed. Everyone told me to leave him, and I couldn't find the strength. What does that say about me? My struggle to maintain my dignity led me to become what many would call "crazy". I'm sure if he was telling the story it would be a tale of a bat-shit crazy girl who "never wanted to hear about herself" (he told me this daily).
But I kept posting the happy photos. I kept suggesting more trips and more self-help books and couples therapy. I kept ignoring my feelings. I concluded that men aren't supposed to care about those anyway.
So I'm writing to tell you that I'm broken right now. I'm writing to tell you that I feel so alone, unloved, and un-worthy of love. I'm writing to tell you to never trust what you see on social media. I'm writing to tell you that abuse is sneaky and real. I'm writing to tell you that it takes time to heal. I'm writing to tell you the truth. I'm writing to get it out. Hoping that writing it will get the anger and sadness and grief out of my body, on the outside of me instead of the inside where it's destroying me.
I'm writing to tell you that the hardest part has been that there has been no one to talk to. My family and friends told me to leave him, and became frustrated with my yo-yo relationship. They want to tell me what to do without listening. They don't know how to spot abuse. They don't understand why I kept going back. They didn't really try to understand either.
They also know me well. There is indeed two sides to every story. I have not been perfect in the relationship. I KNOW how to push someone's buttons and make them angry. If I could make a living at button pushing, I would be rich. I guess that's where things get tricky and sticky. It's easy to overlook abuse because there are two sides. But I found myself acting out in strange ways...calling names...damaging his stuff...in an effort to hold onto my dignity. What kind of person would I be if I didn't put up a fight?
But abuse is so much more than that. It's the person telling you things happened differently than what you remember. It's the person telling you that you shouldn't tell the couples' counselor everything. It's the person telling you that being in the relationship is your choice, but it's also your only choice. It's the person telling you that you've never been engaged because you're such a terrible person. It's the person telling you that you're just too sensitive. It's the person telling you that you're always angry and that's why they don't love you. It's fake apologies just to get you to shut up. It's the threats to leave if you don't let them do what they want. It's the "tit for tat" in every conversation.
Abuse is even more than that. Abuse is telling you that no other person has made them feel like this. It's telling you that you would make a great wife and mother. It's telling you that you're so beautiful (a "9" to be exact). It's great sex, and fun nights out. There's deep connection and plenty of things in common and intense physical attraction. There's so much good mixed in with the constant domination and scrutiny in the background. It's having a calm conversation and the straight face when he says, "I'll fuck you up" over this very blog post.
So here I am scared to post this, and much of my words are for my own documentation purposes. I know he won't like it, but my emotions have become uncontrollable. My behavior has become erratic. I am fluctuating between sadness and rage. I'm embarrassed and don't want pity. But I also don't have a fucking single person to talk to. I'm not talking about a one-time pow-wow. I'm talking about someone to express this deep-seeded rage that won't end. I'm talking about when I talk to him and don't know if I'm crazy or he is. I'm talking about feeling so completely alone in this, because I AM. I so so so am. And writing this is the only way I have to get it out. But it just feels like I need to get it out over and over and over again. There's no one for that.
That's abuse.
