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As the unpopular, awkward girl, who also did not come from the right family, I was not at the top of the list of girls, boys wanted to date. No, my looks had nothing to do with it. I was a size 8, curves in all the right places, long, blond locks, perfect nose, lips celebrities pay to have, large blue eyes and high cheek bones. At the time I did not see it. I was always told I could do with loosing 5kg, if I just ate a little less, if I just exercised a little more. Even then, I had no self esteem. I was never good enough, not even at my best. My hair was always tied back, I did not wear make up, and I always dressed down. I put out to the world what I saw, what I believed, or rather what I was made to believe. I was never going to be the pretty, hot girl. I accepted my life. Only now when I look back at photographs, I realize that there was a time in my life that I was damn hot.
Somewhere early on in my high school years, I met this guy. He was from an all boys school, from another town. Tall, Dark Hair, Handsome. Someone who did not know the real me. With being from different towns we did not see each other often, but spoke daily. We use to go out over weekends when we did see each other, and I attracted attention because of him, because all the girls looked at him. He would spend at least an hour more to get read than I did. The girls at my school who saw photos were jealous, because of his looks, how was it possible for me to get him. Man, did this feel good. Someone with apparent “status, charm and good looks” and he was mine. except this cloud I was floating on, would eventually fog my vision as to who he really was.
So, as absent as my parents were from my life, they did not like him. They told me over and over that they didn’t. However, due to my relationship with them, and based on their example of relationship they set for me, they were the last people on planet earth I was going to take relationship advice from. I also thought that they didn’t want to see me happy, and that it is just another way for them to make my life miserable.
So, it took 5 years, why? because the thing about narcissistic, abusive people, is that they are so clever in their approach to manipulate you. He use to shower me with expensive gifts, while at the same time make me feel guilty about it, and when I get upset, told me that I am over reacting and should be more appreciative. If I gifted him something that was not the same value as what he gave me, I would get punished, verbally, breaking me down even further. Telling me how pathetic I was. How I deserved the treatment from everyone around me. He was the only one who cared about me. If I complained that he was nasty to me, he would tell me that if I behaved properly, did what he wanted, gave him what he wanted, he would not have to be, that it was my fault he had to treat me that way. The gifts was however short lived, as it then became promises of gift, gestures….
He was extremely jealous, possessive and controlling. We would only spend time with his friends. I was not allowed to have any guy friends. He would fight with me about my parents, and use my childhood to his advantage. He use to stalk me, go thru my things when he was at my house, and I would go bath. Interrogate me about everything. I was not allowed to go to sleep, because he wanted to still talk, and if I fell asleep on the couch I would be rudely woken up.
He made me think that I would have no life without him. We were going to leave school, get married, and he was going to make enough money to take care of me, that I never had to work. He had a million plans on how he was going to be rich and powerful, with me by his side, supporting him. He had already chosen what car I would drive, how often I would get a new one, where we would live. Building castles of hopes, dreams and a wonderful life. After school we both went to study in separate large cities. I finally got my freedom from my family, and the day I left, I knew I would never go back home. He however did not approve of me getting a tertiary education, because he was going to take care of me. But, leaving to go study was my escape from home, and NO ONE was going to stand in my way. I have also been someone with a ton of ambition my whole life, so not studying and working was not an option for me, but that detail I put down on the we will sort this out pile.
At university, I made a couple of friends. And as a student, I did what students do, went out clubbing, or just hanging out. This I had to keep from him, as, if he knew that I went out, I would be punished. I was not even allowed to visit my parents without him, so had to hide that from him as well. Eventually the punishments were no longer just verbal, it became physical, he would lock me in a room, he would pin me down, eventually started shoving me a bit. But, you know, I deserved this, because I disobeyed him. But I could not, and did not want to leave, because by that time he had taken everything and everyone from me, if I left, I would be alone, stranded and I believed I loved him, and that he loved me. He will change. This is life?
Writing about this part of my life, seems pretty clear cut, the signs were there, how was I this blind. But the manipulation happens slowly, it takes time for them to form and mold you into the perfect person for their own benefit, the abuse is barely visible at first, and as it increases slowly over time, you barely recognize it, as you are so use to it.
What started as a small playful slap on the leg, turned into full on fists, to strangling me while having his way. What started as a small, you should smile more, or put on a bit more make up, became, you are ugly and should take care of yourself more. What started with, lets rather spent time with my friends, became, you will not leave or do anything without my consent. What was supposed to have been a weekend away with my family from abroad, I was instead locked in my flat, repeatedly punished, because how dare I choose my family over him.
Then, after 5 years of manipulation, I got dragged out of a club by my hair, beaten and raped for the last time. Did I tell anyone? Off course not, how could I? Because despite this, I still believed that it was all my fault.
After many years, and therapy, I finally had the guts to look him up, not because I wanted anything to do with him, maybe it was for closure. I am not really sure. What did I find? A person who has ultimately not made anything out of his life, an addict, and based on the posts by the string of girlfriends he has had, still the same manipulative, abusing asshole he has always been. Do all abusive people turn out this way? Do they eventually succumb to guilt? I wish I had the answers. All I wish (and I repeat this often) is that I had a magical wand to save every person that are trapped within a toxic relationship. Because, even nearly 2 decades later, I still battle with major trust issues, caused by empty promises and “loving” abuse. I still battle with people in my personal space. I am still haunted by the trauma every single day of my life, whether I am aware of it or not.
Stop telling yourself you can fix him. He’s been this way for a long, long time and he doesn’t intend to change. Don’t be a sacrificial lamb on the altar of his rage. Don’t play the martyr to his hate. You can never save someone by letting them destroy you. That’s not love, it’s rational suicide. Save yourself instead. Get out while there’s still time. – John Mark Green
