Once upon a time there was a girl. She was innocent and kind and pretty naïve. She had only been with one boy in her ENTIRE life and that boy, while decent, was rather dull and apathetic. As a more experienced adult woman, she would learn a more proper label for that boy would be “submissive”. And she would understand why after a while…things just weren’t working out with him. Then this girl met another boy. He was older. Who was not submissive. Who whisked her off her feet. Who courted her and charmed her and spent a significant amount of time trying to convince her that he was an amazing man. He was charming and funny and popular. He called her sweet names and would make a point to really connect with her and tell her how wonderful and pretty and smart and awesome she was. When the boy asked her to marry him, she was so happy. Because he always made her happy and she thought this was a dream come true.
So she married him and….and things were great for a little while but then he went to work on the road and traveled a lot. She didn’t get to spend as much time with him but wrote that off as one of those sacrifices a good wife makes when a young couple is starting out a marriage and trying to make it. The years on the road passed fine enough. He was never really home very long for there to be a problem and when he did get cross or angry…he always seemed to have a valid ready excuse.
As she was raised to be kind and understanding and didn’t want to be one of those bitchy nagging wives, she tried to extend the understanding she thought was her duty. He was working very hard and he did apologize when he did get grouchy which really wasn’t THAT often…Then he came off the road and things were kind of odd. He seemed to be angry more often then she remembered from their days of dating. Suddenly, he seemed a different person. She tried to respect that he quit his traveling job to be at home with her and the transition to a new career might be a bit stressful so she tried to be understanding and supportive.
Years passed and his blow ups that always seemed rare at first got more frequent. She used to joke they were once a quarter but now they were once a month. Then once a week. Then several times a week then… Then one day she woke up and realized something was dreadfully wrong…but had no idea how to fix it. You see…he only did these things to her in private. In public he was the charming funny swell guy who knew what to say and how to say it. She was afraid if she tried to tell people about the fact that just an hour earlier he had been punching holes in the walls and calling her a cunt…they would not believe her. He was already acting like nothing happened and surely would once again minimize the entire situation if she tried to “tattle”. “No one will believe you….” So she sucked it up and figured this was the whole “worse” part of “for better or worse”.
She tried to rationalize it by telling herself he never physically hit her. Oh, sure, if that wrench he threw at her had hit her then perhaps she could claim abuse but it hadn’t. She had been a coward and ducked and if only next time she could be brave and strong and let him knock out a few teeth then perhaps she could have real visible evidence. Perhaps then they would believe her and he could no longer hide behind that “nice guy” mask. She found herself wishing he would hit her. Break her arm. Perhaps squeeze her arm so tight it would leave bruises so she would have some proof…but he always caught himself and pulled up short. So she went along like a zombie wife trying to figure out how to get out of this mess when he had her convinced no one would believe her.
As a Satanist, we are often reminded not to complain. Or whine. Or bemoan a situation. Get off our ass and CHANGE it. So she tried. She tried being nicer. Kinder. More understanding. More accommodating. More anything… More like the woman he claimed he would love if she could just be. But no matter how hard she tried…it was never enough. Never.
The last year was the worst. He pretty much ignored her. Which she grew to like because if he wasn’t ignoring her he was disgusted with her or yelling at her. How many friends did they go to dinner with that he charmed and delighted and entertained while she sat silently with a fake smile plastered on her face? She lost count.
She got so tired. And so sad. And felt so helpless. She imagined going to tell people what he was doing and pictured them minimizing her as he would always do. “Oh! Your husband is grouchy?” They would laugh and chuckle (as he always did) and tell her to get a grip. “Oh, he yells every once in a while?” Please…she pictured them rolling their eyes at her like he did if she tried to voice her unhappiness with his treatment. For so long she remained silent because she was afraid no one would believe her.
She was afraid everyone would call her stupid (like he did).
She was afraid everyone would minimize his behavior (like he did).
She was afraid….of everything after a while.
Finally, he made a mistake. They usually do after a while. And because she was a smart girl, she took advantage of it. You see….he LEFT HER! He made sure to tell her how awful she was. How she had ruined his life. How ugly she was. How worthless, stupid, and disgusting she was. How he could no longer even pretend to want to fuck her (which she thought was pretty funny considering how he had for sure had his way with her the last two nights in a most demanding, aggressive, and angry way…)… And then he left. She was in shock for a day. He had no idea that while he slept the night before he left…after leaving her bruised and marked by his bites that she had been ECSTATIC that she finally had evidence! She could leave! She had packed a bag for herself and one for her daughter while he slept and hid them in the trunk of the car. As they are driving to breakfast and he is telling her he wants a divorce she starts to cry. The egomaniac thought she was crying because she would miss him and didn’t want him to go and loved him. He had absolutely no idea she was crying with relief. Pure unadulterated relief. They were on their way to breakfast with her family for her birthday. She wanted to make sure he officially said he was leaving in front of witnesses so she could start that one year clock ticking immediately.
She spent the rest of that week making phone calls and hiring an attorney and getting her ducks in a row. His cocky ego made it through the end of the week when it turns out the woman he left her for decided she didn’t want him. Ooops. She watched his private messages (and printed them out) as he told people he would simply come back to her and that she would take him back because she was so weak and dependent on him and he was just THAT awesome.
Funny thing was…she didn’t.
She said, “No.”
And suddenly, the tables were turned.
Suddenly, SHE was the one in control and with the power.
He didn’t like that very much. The behavior he once sought so hard to control so that only she saw it started to slip out in public. He grabbed her wrist so hard at the gym one night it hurt for weeks afterwards. He screamed at her in front of her family and their eyes grew big and round and shocked at his rage and they were stunned. “Is THAT what you lived with?” “We had NO idea!”
She found a therapist who specialized in situations like hers and he started to help her learn that abuse happens even when physical violence isn’t used. All those things he did like punching holes in the walls, throwing things at her, calling her names and belittling her…all those were abuse. At first she was loathe to accept that…that…that WORD. “Abuse”. She felt like it made her sound weak and stupid and all the things he said she was. But she is learning that he let her think that to keep her quiet. It allowed him to continue to treat her badly and be unkind to her.
Some are probably wondering why I wrote this NOW. Tonight? Because. Because of a post on my Facebook page today by Nic Blasphemer. He said, “lol. no human being is a piece of trash especially not one you made a child with, there are a lot of confused and unhappy souls in the world but that doesnt make them trash. so you guys must also harbour resentments if you feel the need to trash him publicly. Grow up girls :)"
I read that today after sitting in the library and reading “The Verbally Abusive Relationship by Patricia Evans (I recommend this to anyone who is or has been in one). At first I felt shame when I read what Nic wrote. And then I stopped myself. I spent TEN years of my life AFRAID to speak out that I was being treated badly because I was afraid people would do EXACTLY what Nic did. Minimize and belittle my feelings and tell me to “grow up”.
Well, with all due respect Nic: Fuck you.
I will never again be afraid to speak up (Well, I probably will but I am going to do it anyway and it gets easier each time) because I am afraid someone like you will chuckle me off or try to make me look silly or minimize my feelings. You are either a piss poor individual who shouldn’t have chimed in on something he knew nothing about OR….you are an abusive type just like douche bag. If you don’t like what I have to say, unfriend me. It won’t hurt my feelings. I have been through way too much to let something like that upset me.
I speak out and I continue to speak out because I no longer want to let fear of anything stop me. It helps to talk about this. For too long I didn’t and maybe I wouldn’t have had to endure it as long as I did if I had spoken up earlier.
It’s quite telling that when I post DB going on about my attorney’s tits that I am the one told to grow up? Yup. That’s a red flag right there, ladies. I am not asking for sympathy. I am simply sharing my story. I am not perfect. I am far from it. But I learn from my mistakes and I make an effort to improve things, and I strive to have a good life. If that offends or annoys, you can go take a flying leap.
I had to get this out so I could refocus on my school work. I am still dealing with panic attacks and anxiety attacks and difficulty focusing because of his bullshit. I refuse to sit here and pretend to be perfect just to please anyone. I already did that for ten years and a whole lot of good it did. This is me:
"Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed."
Before you plop that trite piece of poetry in your profile, try living it instead.
I double dog dare you.
Now I have some work to do.
~October 28, 2010
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