Only a handful of people in “real life” know about the abuse. To the rest of my peeps, I probably appear to live a pretty charmed life. And out of those who know about the hell I’ve endured, only three know who he is. I’ve only shared this blog with two people who actually know me. They’re both survivors (amazing, beautiful women with caring souls). Otherwise my mouth has been shut. People have no idea what has been going on behind my closed doors.

I’ve been reading Sharon Thomas’ ‘Healing from Hidden Abuse’ and follow her on Instagram. She recently wrote an article I identify greatly in regards to being private and reserved about this subject. Everyday I think about publicly acknowledging myself as a survivor on social media. I want justice. I want my ex exposed for what he did. I want to warn others of this man to prevent further victimizations. I want to be able to talk about this openly without fear of shame or judgement. I want my power back. I want to educate others. I want to help others. I want to change the stigmas associated with victims and survivors of abuse. I want to do something big with all of this… I have a platform. I have resources. I know people. But I talk myself out of it for all the reasons in Thomas’ article.

‘Five Reasons Why Women Don’t Speak Up’.

1. “Only “Crazy Girls” Speak Up
2. The “Nice Girl” Mindset
3. Fear of a Smear Campaign
4. The Risks Outweigh the Benefits
5. Culture of Bystander Apathy”

Read the full article by Shannon Thomas LCSW-S here: https://www.plaidforwomen.com/read-post/5-reasons-women-dont-speak/

After I ended the relationship with the explanation he was abusive, he researched ‘30 Common Symptoms of Abuse’. He listed them out in a letter and provided commentary for each as they relate to our relationship.

“7. You feel like you need permission to make decisions or go out somewhere.

Obviously good communication is key, as we have a thing with trust, but in general I don’t tell you where to go or what to do. You wouldn’t tolerate that AT ALL if I did that (and I wouldn’t anyway). I would hope you don’t feel this. The only time I was mad at you was when you said one thing, and it seemed to be contradicted when I was at the [yacht] club that one day. We talked about it and I let it go. You don’t need my permission to do anything your heart leads you to chose.”

The time he was mad with me is in reference to Father’s Day weekend. That Friday we had both taken a day off from work for an “Adventure Day” date. After waiting on him for 8(!) HOURS to leave his house, it was 5 p.m. Wasted PTO. While we were driving to dinner, a former colleague of mine reached out to make plans for the next day. My ex knew of him because, he is a member of the same yacht club my ex pretends to belong to. Plans were for a group of us to check out a dj set. I assumed it was the same former work crew we usually partied with (and I shared this with my ex), but when I arrived, it was just two other guys I didn’t know. Coincidence would have it, these other guys are friends with my ex. They used to work at a restaurant together. I had a few drinks and mainly caught up with my friend, while the other two scampered off dancing, mingling. By 11 o’clock, I was not feeling well and left to crawl into bed. I fell asleep and didn’t check my phone until 5 a.m. where I saw several texts and missed calls from the ex. I fell back asleep. I finally responded when I had to get ready for a family Father’s Day bbq. Naturally, when I called, a fight ensued. He was mad because I “lied”, saying I was going out with work people, but really it was three other guys. However, he was the one who lied, fabricating a story where he was at the yacht club on Saturday afternoon and hung out with the same guys. Saying they were bragging about doing drugs, getting wasted and planning to hook up with chicks despite being in relationships. I know for a fact he was not at the club that day nor has ever spoken to my work friend, nor did he speak with his restaurant boyz that day. I dropped my ex’s name once I made the connection they all knew each other and they mentioned not seeing him in months. He kept ranting. I listened. He came to the conclusion: I was with three men, didn’t answer my phone so therefore I cheated on him, hooking up with my friend. I sent him screenshots of texts from my friend to show I went home sick. I sent him screenshots of time stamps for when I disarmed and armed my alarm system. I swore up and down nothing happened. But it was a losing battle. He was convinced I had sex with another man. Eventually I apologized for not responding sooner nor providing detailed play-by-plays of my evening. I told him I could understand how one would feel in his position and that, I too, would probably assume he was cheating if the roles were reversed.

“We talked about it and I let it go.” Also a lie.

Case in point. ‘Sexual intimacy’ Love Bomb to mask his abuse.

Currently I shut down on the subject of sex. I don’t want to think about it. I didn’t really want to post this. I struggle sharing my thoughts about this topic in therapy because I Kim Kardashian ugly cry and cannot speak. I open my mouth, but no words. I just cry.

The logical side knows I shouldn’t be ashamed, but I’m traumatized…

The things he did to me.
The things I didn’t want him to do.
The things I didn’t want to do.
The things I did to him.

I would tell him “no”, but he had a way where I’d eventually cross all boundaries. It’s a weird gray area where I was consenting and participating, but knew something wasn’t right. Sex became a manipulation tool where anything sexual was no longer about love or mutual pleasure, but about power and control. It was a way to reset the relationship after fights. It was a way to get him back after a break-up. It was a way to keep the peace and try to make him happy. It was a way to distract me from the shitty things he was doing. It was a way to “prove how much he loved me”. It became something to make me believe if I complied to his desires, he wouldn’t cheat. It became something where the day after, he’d text to ask how he did and I had to praise his abilities. Sex was such a main point in our relationship, I dumped much of my self-worth in how how he viewed me sexually. When he’d reject me for multiple weeks, I was hating myself – beating myself up over everything I did, said, thought… how I looked. I’d become so desperate for his attention and approval, in turn, I did things I didn’t want to do. Everything with him was about sex. It was an obsession for him. It became something I hated and now ultimately fear.

“Abusers may use sex and/or what ‘appears’ to be ‘sexual intimacy’ to mask abuses. They do this by methodically exploiting the sexual bond, using it to deceitfully confuse and manipulate their victims. 

Sexually exploitive and abusive tactics (including psychosexual manipulation) are common threads in narcissistic and sociopathic personalities. 

Abusers may use sex and/or ‘make-up sex’ to mask various forms of other forms of abusive behaviors. If your partner constantly seems to resort to sex to detract from: cheating or lying, the discovery of problematic/deceptive behaviors, avoiding discussing relationship problems, neglect, avoiding responsibility, minimizing or ‘apologizing’ for fighting or for being financially, verbally, emotionally, or physically abusive, etc. – THIS IS A RED FLAG that you are being manipulated and in an abusive relationship. 

Some abusers also actually USE sex and ‘sexual intimacy’ to conceal or ‘make-up’ for being sexually abusive. Abuse takes many forms.”

– stopthis.standup.speakout

One of many post break-up hoover attempts. Ignored.

Yassssss.

It’s was in June, maybe July where I drove past a concert venue marquee and noticed The Alarm was schedule for the end of August. I excitedly texted him. I knew he would be as interested as I was.

He was game. But a few weeks out, he thought it was the same weekend he had a family reunion in Buffalo. So we shelved it until he confirmed his availability. The week of the concert, he was free so we had a date to see The Alarm. I was happy. He hyped it up throughout the week.

That night, he was running late. It was another dance of me feeling like a pest texting him for an ETA and him needing more time. He left his place at 8, doors were at 7. That was also when we planned for him to pick me up. On his drive he called to say the website listed it as sold out for online purchases. We agreed to go and see if there were tickets at the door. Sold out signs were posted. We were both frustrated. I was annoyed with his tardiness. He told me I should have purchased tickets before the day of the show if I wanted to go so badly. He purchases tickets for shows all the time so I assumed he had them. Plus, I’m the girl and although I’m happy to pay my share, it’s still nice to be treated. He said it was on me since I was the one to first mention the concert. He left me to awkwardly convince the doorman to let us in while he ran off to an ATM down the street. No such luck. Again, it was on me for not trying hard enough with the door guy. But did he try?

We walked around the area executing a backup plan for our evening. He insisted we held hands. He suggested we go to his uncle’s who was having people over for a Pay-Per-View fight. As much as I had been wanting to no longer be a secret, I wasn’t feeling it that night. Instead we went to a local ice cream shop where I bought us each a cone. That was my idea, so naturally it was on me to pay. I insisted. Afterward we went grocery shopping and then back to my house. He allowed me to select a movie, but I had to give him a long back rub. He fell asleep on the couch. I was irritated so I moved to the other couch. He came to half lay with me because he could tell I wanted attention. But again, he fell asleep. I never felt more unloved. So needy. So lonely. So undesirable.

This was the third week he had been shunning me from all physical contact beyond some hand holding, grandma pecks and a few hugs. The next weekend I ended the relationship.

I sent this text to my sister.

A month after our final vacation together, he all of a sudden changed it from being a “great time”, to saying it was awful. Back then, I thought it was a pretty perfect trip. Upon deeper reflection, there were a lot of things wrong with how he treated me, but in comparison to other travels, we only had 72 instances of his bullshit compared to 272.

This vacation was “awful” because I was too quiet on the drive up. And then, I had the audacity to sleep on our return home which took place in the middle of the night. It proved to him I was not enjoying our time together and did not have fun. I never seem to be having fun. Always too quiet.

I took his attack to heart. I reached out to my sister to better understand what is wrong with me and how being quiet is negatively perceived by others so I could I fix it.

“This morning as I lay in bed, I thought about how silent it was. It suddenly reminded me of how things used to be. What my favorite part of being with you was. What I haven’t felt in a while as I have let this relationship warp and decay. I miss the time standing still, when we would lie together and time would literally feel like it stopped. I could feel the gears in the clock slowing and then just ceasing movement. Paused time. I should have sat down a long time ago and wrote my thoughts out better. From the first day I met you I felt we were a team. We could do anything. Build anything. Make anything. Create anything. Whatever our whimsy dictated. I would give anything to get back to that feeling. We were a respite from the rest of the world. That wasn’t fake, imagined, or manipulated. Please don’t erase those times from your memory.”

Post break-up. Excerpt from a 12-page letter he wrote when I stopped all communication (numbers, email, social media all blocked; found letter in my mailbox with no postage)

In February 2014, I set up my Instagram account. He was one of my original followers. I didn’t know him, but we shared some mutual friends and acquaintances. I believe that’s how he found me, through our friend “N”. I’ve noticed he follows a lot of girls who are connected to other people – people he does know and mostly people he doesn’t know. He was the type to always like my posts and many times leave a comment.

Several months later I attended a community festival held in the alleys of the city with a friend. While waiting in line for a beer, I noticed him. He saw me and we gave a knowing nod. He and his dog came over to formally introduce himself as this was the first time we met in real life. He flagged “the ex” to come over to meet me as well. We made some brief chit chat and went our separate ways.

The following weekend I was attending a concert with our friend “N”. He picked me up saying we were stopping at his friend’s house to cookout before the show as there were several of us going as a group. We entered the townhouse through the kitchen and there HE was plating food. I was in his house and didn’t even know he was part of the group for the night.

He was always “around” after that night, but we didn’t start dating until two years later. Once we were involved, he stopped liking my social media posts, but continued engaging with other girls. It was weird. It was stupid. It was another mind fuck.