Last September, I was swept off my feet by an incredibly charming man. A man who showered me with attention and gifts. A man who was intelligent and witty. A man I could talk to all night, who listened with interest to what I had to say. A man who was kind to me, and treated me like I hung the moon. He brought me flowers, just because. He left cards and notes on my windshield for me to find in the morning, just so I would know he was thinking of me. He seemed genuine and honest, and willing to be up front about his flaws...or so it seemed. A man who gave me more positive attention in the first three months than I had ever received in my entire life. He called me his soulmate. After everything I'd been through, I thought my prayers had been answered.
I was wrong.
So, so wrong...
After a few months, the cracks in his foundation began to show. There was a mountain of debt I had no idea he had...and we're not talking a little. We're talking nothing he'll ever pay off in his lifetime. He had depleted his savings and retirement accounts. His truck was repossessed. He had to constantly borrow money to pay bills or get the water or electricity back turned back on, even as he went out every night and dressed in expensive clothes. And then there was how little he saw of his children...as of this time, it's been four months since he laid eyes on ANY of his four kids...the youngest has seen him three times in the past 9 months, once only for an hour. He is tens of thousands in arrears on his child support. I began to realize things weren't as they seemed. Then there was the jealousy...he had mostly female friends, but I wasn't allowed to stay in contact with my guy friends. "Because I know not to trust guys. They all want to have sex with you," he said. Any argument I made was wholly unreasonable--a betrayal of him, even. Guess what, ladies and gentlemen? I had the original con artist. Me...a fairly intelligent girl who makes a decent living and has her life more or less together. A Nice Girl at heart--far from perfect, but generally kind and reasonably responsible. And I missed it...and I put myself and my kids in grave danger because I wasn't bright enough to see it in time.
The controlling behavior slowly escalated. In the final month, if I was upset or bothered by something, it didn't matter how calmly or rationally I brought it up. He turned it into a shouting match almost immediately. The fights were horrific, and always 100% MY FAULT. If only I did this...if only I was more respectful...he would tell our friends I was unstable, when he was the one who threw his phone so hard, he left a hole in my wall. Once, near the end, he screamed in my face, calling me a fucking cunt. When I started to cry, he looked at me with disgust. "There you go again, playing the fucking victim. You're pathetic," he spat.
Never in my life have I been called the names he called me. Cunt. Slut. Bitch. Pathetic. Loser. Liar. I have never experienced so much hatred and vitriol...all from the person who claimed I was "the love of his life" and talked often of marrying me. I have never been so torn down and humiliated, nor treated with so much disdain in my life. It went from being the most loving, affectionate relationship I've ever experienced to exactly the opposite. That isn't to say I did nothing wrong in the relationship...I am human, and I made mistakes, too. But I was honest and loyal throughout. For him, it turned into a game, where he liked to point out my every flaw. He seemed to get joy out of being critical of my appearance and mannerisms. My nose was too big. My singing was abysmal. My laugh was annoying. I needed to do some squats. My hands and feet were ugly. My jaw and lips were all wrong. I really wasn't all that pretty...and I was supposedly the girl of his dreams? And still, I didn't leave.
By then, I loved him...not who he was, but the version he had presented in the beginning...and I thought, maybe if I give it time and walk the line, that guy will come back. What I didn't realize is, that guy never really existed. This one did. This was who he is. The one who had built our relationship on a house of cards...some half-truths, some out-and-out lies. The things I have learned about him since the breakup are simply mind-blowing. Even that term is a grave understatement. Humiliating. Embarrassing. Disgusting. None of that even touches it. This was a man (and I use that term loosely, because he is really not a man at all), quite simply, with NO moral compass or sense of decency, honor, or responsibility to anyone. This was a "man" who feels he is above everyone...above the law...that there are no rules that apply to him. And that is what makes him so terrifying.
As for the breakup itself...I was badly beaten. Not with his fists...just with his ability to throw me around like a rag doll, on account of the 100 pounds he had on me. I sustained a concussion, over 30 bruises, and urinated blood for days. My back was black and blue. I stayed with my parents. My mother cried every time she looked at me. And still I cried and refused to give the name of the attacker to the police...even as the officer told me the level of injuries I sustained warranted a felony assault investigation. I was wrong not to. I know that now. If nothing else, I should've done it to protect his current girlfriend....and all of his future ones. They will end up just like me, just as I'm pretty sure now that I ended up like the last one...it hasn't been hard to fill in the blanks that he left unsaid about his last relationship, the one which he claimed he had been so honest and up-front about. I'm sure he's saying the same things about me now, as he pulls the wool over this victim's eyes. Because she is a victim, too, every bit as much as I am. She will be abused, whether it's physically, verbally, emotionally, or all of the above. It may take a little time, but it will absolutely happen. She will be hurt by him, and I can't help her. I don't want to feel guilty about that, but I do. I regret that. I wish I could warn every woman in the metropolitan area.
I can't do that. All I can do is tell my story, and hope people read it. All I can do is make people understand that no one is immune to abuse. My YWCA counselor likened his actions to emotional terrorism. It can happen to anyone. Even smart, pretty, together girls...who may be in a slightly vulnerable place. It's the vulnerability he feeds upon. I have lost friends. I have been judged harshly. I have hurt those that I loved. I have lived in fear every day. I have had my life threatened. I have made mistakes. And I have survived. One day, maybe I'll even be okay. One day, maybe I'll trust someone again. I don't know. But it isn't today....
I heard about this blog through my friend, Kelly, and reading your story blew me away. You are a very strong woman and talking about it is the first step to healing. I admire you for putting this out there, it's very courageous. You and your kids are in my thoughts.
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