In a previous entry I described being in an abusive relationship. Naturally, I didn't describe everything. There are some things that are too humiliating to share. But today, I do want to talk about the aftermath that was the disaster called Scott.
In late summer, I reconnected with an old flame I dated in 2006. I may have mentioned him before. Let's call him A. A and I have known each other since 6th grade. We didn't get along when we first met, but our feelings changed and by the time we were 17 and 18, there were sparks. But, long-distance, and other varying factors did us in, and we parted ways.
So yes, we reconnected. It was like six years had never passed. We re-cultivated a friendship, and by the end of September, had managed to develop feelings of a romantic nature for each other once again.
As we get to know each other all over again, and reforge the bonds of passion, I often find myself feeling something akin to post-traumatic stress disorder. It's not A's fault mind you, these past months he has been sweet, and understanding. Even though we are not officially in a relationship, he has treated me more kindly, and tenderly than Scott ever did in our four years together.
So you're wondering, what's going on in my head?
Scott used to get mad at me for inconsequential things. Things, that a lover who is secure in the knowledge that they are adored, would not get angry over. He did not like it when other men flirted with me, even if I ignored their attentions. He did not like it if I mentioned, or even thought about an ex-boyfriend, because he thought it meant I wanted that person back. He wanted to know what I was thinking about all the time. He wanted me to tell him everything. For four years, I was conditioned, and dare I say, brain-washed into being a good little soldier and reporting back to him every event, every thought.
So here I am. Getting involved with someone again. And old habits die hard. I feel like I have to report to A about everything I do. If somebody hits on me, I expect him to get mad. I sit on my end of our facebook conversations, flinching, expecting a verbal blow, a command, that will never come.
But he doesn't get mad. And, after four years of verbal and emotional abuse, this is surprising, and refreshing.
It's strange, figuring out how a man is supposed to treat a woman. That the things Scott was doing didn't mean he loved me, or he wanted to protect me, but that he wanted to own me, control me.
Scott's self-hatred, also exacerbated my own self-esteem problems. With him, I felt fat and ugly. I was miserable, and you could see it in my face. Sometimes, I still feel like this, even with the ego snacks I receive from A.
At the time, I was aware that my relationship was abusive, but I was unwilling to admit it. When I eventually tried to confront Scott, he denied it, and then said I treated him far worse. This counter-accusation made me shut up and endure it.
But then I was free. It was over, and it didn't have to happen again. It wasn't going to happen again.
So imagine the surprise and agony I felt when I realized that I was getting anxious, when A was giving me no reason to feel so! He's not Scott. I don't get the same sick vibes I get that I had when I met Scott for the first time. When my gut tried to warn me, and I ignored it. When I am with A, I feel happy and safe. I feel like I'm with somebody who I can ultimately trust.
After you've been in an abusive relationship, you have to learn how to trust people again. Not only that, you have to learn how to trust yourself again. That's important. If you can't trust yourself, if you can't trust your own decisions, then you're fucked. But I'm working on these issues. Some cynics would say that my feelings of anxiety are occurring because I'm making a bad decision.These people don't know me, and they don't know what I went through. No one will ever really know what it was like to be there, except me, because it was my battle. It was my fight.
Here's the thing. This time, I listened to my gut. My gut only grumbled because I wanted a sandwich. It said nothing about A. Unless he's a turkey sandwich, then in that case my gut told me he's delicious and goes good with Miracle Whip.
A lot of people ask me why I stayed with Scott for so long. I hear the blame in their voices. They act like I'm a stupid little girl, who can't make her own decisions. Fuck that noise. The abuse was NOT my fault. Maybe I should have left, but I didn't. That was a mistake, and I paid for it. At the time, I did love Scott, and I did want to make it work. Even the strongest feminist can be felled by her chemical reactions.
So sometimes, I get scared when I shouldn't. Or have a flashback to something Scott did or said. It happens. But I'm not going to let it ruin my joy. If I let bad memories sully one of the best things in my life, then ultimately, Scott wins. He would still own me. I have gotten my ovaries back, I have reclaimed the fort and I'm not going to allow myself to be treated like shit again. I deserve respect, I deserve to be happy and I deserve to have a healthy relationship.
