TW: abuse

I’ve avoided it long enough; I think it’s time.

If you know me, you’ll know that I got married in 2017 and if you’ve been in my life since then, you’ll already be aware that is no longer the case. When it first happened, I avoided talking about it to people because I didn’t want to cause more drama, because I was embarrassed, and because I didn’t want people to think less of me. But turned out that it didn’t matter whether or not I said anything because he had already gone around to our entire mutual friend group and spread lies about what really happened. I guess it is true what they say, when abusive people can’t control you anymore, they’ll try to control how other people see you.

I won’t claim to know how he really felt about the situation and I won’t presume to know why people reacted the way they did when he talked to them about me; so this is primarily going to be from my point of view. My side.

When I met him, he was going through a rough time; I, being who I am, decided that I needed to fix things for him and sooner or later we started dating. Looking back, our entire relationship was an endless cycle of things being bad, him promising me that things would be better in the future, and then me believing him. Unless he wanted something from me, our interactions typically consisted of him ignoring me, being frustrated at me, or yelling at me. I always thought that if I ever got into an abusive situation that I’d recognize the signs right away and not tolerate it, but I suppose it is true that it can really happen to anyone.

I think in the beginning, though I can’t really remember, he was nicer most of the time. Then as things progressed the daily kindness was less and less and it was more of a “treat” when he’d treat me well. Something in my head made me think that those few times were worth it, that if I just kept “doing better” that he’d start treating me better again. I found myself making excuses like; “it was my fault, I made him angry”, “I should have let him help me make that decision instead of making it on my own”, “I can’t tell anyone what happened because they’ll think he’s a bad person and I know he’s not.”

He would frequently make me feel like nobody else would ever be able to handle me in all of my “broken, mental illness” states, and I let him convince me of that. He didn’t want to hold my hand, cuddle me, or spend much time with me at all, but he’d get jealous and upset if I’d go out and spend time with people who wanted to see me. The neglect even got so bad at one point that I was so touch starved that I was taking hour long showers, just sitting on the ground under the water multiple times a day just to feel warmth.

Now, I’m not writing about this to make anybody feel bad for me or feel upset at him; I just feel like I need to put this out there as a closure for everything two years later.

He never hit me, luckily it never escalated to that point, but I’m not confident that had I stayed that it wouldn’t have. He would frequently slam doors, throw things, and get in my face; there were even a couple times where he stepped at me like me might hit me. The fear that I felt in those moments, they were quite unlike anything I’d ever felt before in my life. He was my significant other, I should have felt safe with him, but I just didn’t and I didn’t know what to do.

As things started to unravel, I talked about things like they were no big deal because I was afraid of what it might mean if they were. I’d hide things from people and tell stories in a way that made them seem like they were my fault; they were cries for help I think, but nobody heard them. The way I was talking about my relationship toward the end may have helped perpetuate the lies that he ended up telling everyone after it was all over, but I was doing the best that I could.

When everything finally came to a head, I remember vividly sobbing so hard I couldn’t breathe or see, wandering around our apartment, packing up my things. And he didn’t look at me, not once. And not once did he ask me not to go.

There’s a certain feeling that comes over you when you hit that point in a relationship that you thought was going to last forever; shame. I was so ashamed that I was leaving, after all, I was the one ending things so it was my fault that our marriage fell apart, right? Unfortunately for me, that’s what he ended up telling all of our mutual friends; for the next couple months I got bombarded with texts and conversations like “you should have tried harder” and “you gave up long before it was over”. I even had people tell me that despite the fact that they understood why I had to leave, that they couldn’t condone how it happened so they wouldn’t be there for me.

I think the worst one was a friend who told me that I was a bad person despite the fact that she knew I was being abused and despite the fact that she, too had been abused in the past. That one stung the most I think. There’s something particularly painful about someone who’s been through similar situations to you telling you that you’re the bad person.

I spent a really long time blaming myself for everything; that I should have seen it sooner, that I shouldn’t have left the way I did, or that I should have left sooner. But the truth is that I did the best that I could and I’m proud of myself not only for getting through it but also for moving forward as a stronger person. I learned a lot from that relationship and worked through a lot of my personal issues in therapy in the year following the divorce. I was really afraid that everyone who was at the wedding would hate me like my “close friends” had, but after moving forward I realized that it didn’t matter what anybody else thought. That I was proud of me, and that was enough.

He was not a good husband, he treated me poorly and didn’t love me like I deserved to be loved. But despite everything I don’t regret any of my choices because it helped make me who I am today; and as much as I would have loved to have been treated right and not hurt the way I was, I have what I have today because I went through all of that and survived. I am in a loving relationship where I’m told every day how wonderful and beautiful I am. Every day he supports me in what I want to do with life, keeps me on track, and loves me the way I deserve, no strings attached and no conditions.

The year of the divorce was the lowest point in my life, but I got through it and I’m happy again. Being in an abusive relationship taught me that I’m strong enough to make tough decisions, that I need to trust myself before anyone else, and that I deserve to be happy and loved. I think that lots of people settle and tell themselves that they won’t get anything better and that’s how they fall into traps but I’m here to tell you that you DO deserve better. You DO deserve to be loved. You DO deserve to be happy. And you ARE worth it.