Scars Unseen: Why I'm Like This (Part 2)

If you are reading this, welcome to the second instalment of “Scars Unseen: Why I’m Like This!” Together we are delving into inadvertently discovering more about myself while attempting to educate others. I set out to write this multi-part series on abuse to prevent others from entering into abusive relationships through education. I also hoped to help anyone who may already be in an abusive relationship through recognizing abuse and how to escape. In this attempt to educate others, I wanted to offer myself up as an ally to you, dear reader.

In this instalment, I am writing about Physical Abuse. Again, I will include my own personal experiences. Beware, dear reader, for there will be instances that are uncomfortable and emotional to read. Should there be any triggering content, feel free to discontinue reading. It should also be noted that I am in no way an expert on the topics I write. I have taken steps to educate myself beyond my own personal experiences through reading peer-reviewed articles and psychological books on abuse and abusers. If the subject matter is interesting to you or if you need more information beyond what I will be providing, I strongly encourage you to do your own research.

Physical abuse can also be called physical violence or assault. It is the most commonly known form of abuse, as it is so often depicted in media because it leaves actual physical evidence on the victims. Loosely defined as any non-accidental act or behaviour that causes injury, trauma, or bodily harm. Within physical abuse are assault, aggravated assault, battery, neglect, and domestic violence. When one discusses abuse, it is crucial to note that anyone can be abused. While abuse against women is more discussed and reported, men can also be abused by their partners. It also often goes underreported in men and can be taken less seriously when reported. Younger men are more likely to be abused than older men. As well romantic partnerships and common-law partners are at a higher risk than married men. Conflict in other areas of a partner's life increases their risk of abusing their partner. Finally, those who are especially vulnerable are those who are in partnerships in which roles are changing (new job, starting a family, entering retirement, change in income, etc.) There is ample data on the rates of abuse for each sex, however, it is often skewed through bias. Typically, surveys and studies rely on the information volunteered to them by individuals and reports. Shame can affect the numbers that are reported, but also a lack of understanding on what is abuse versus self-defence, and what law enforcement choose to include in their reports. I recommend doing your own research to learn more about the rates of abuse in your country; yet from what I can find, reports indicate a near equal amount of abuse for each sex.

Assault is the psychological threat of inflicting harm on a person. Aggravated assault is one step higher, and it typically includes the use of a weapon or a different status of the victim from the assaulter. Battery is the actual physical contact. Assault and battery are often used interchangeably, and the definitions are not all that important to this post. You can assault someone by threatening to punch someone. The victim then expects a punch but does not need to actually be hit to be assaulted. The emotional reaction is all that is required for an assault to take place. Battery is any unwanted physical contact, and it does not need to be intentional to be battery. If you hug someone who does not want to be hugged, but they do not verbalize it, it can still be battery. If you sneak attack someone and they were not aware of the attack, it is battery. If you threaten to slap someone and then follow through with the slap, you have committed assault and battery. Any instance of restraint, drugged, having food or medication withheld from someone, sleep deprivation, stabbing, shooting, punched, kicked, choked, slapped, bit, cut, burned, etc. is physical abuse. As is any threat of those things occurring, be it a direct threat or an indirect threat. A person can also be physically abused by witnessing someone else being abused. Meaning, a child seeing their parent use violence against another parent is still abuse towards that child. The same goes for violence against animals, should an abuser kick the family dog in anger, that is abuse to the family members. An abuser will not hesitate to convey to their victims that no one is safe. The threat is inherent in abuse.

Domestic violence is typically what one would think of if they heard the term physical abuse. The previously mentioned examples of physical abuse are often considered to be violent, but not abuse. Domestic violence is any abuse that occurs between members of an intimate relationship. Any past or present romantic partner; be it a spouse, common-law, fiancé, or boyfriend/girlfriend; as well as the parent of your child, or a close relative through blood or marriage. All of the previously mentioned physical acts are included in domestic violence, with the addition of stalking, disturbing the peace, and destruction of property. While these three things are considered crimes on their own, they are unique in their inclusion with domestic abuse.

Stalking is often a result of an individual forming an unhealthy attachment to their victim. While there are multiple types of victims for a stalker, there are five kinds of a stalker. The rejected stalker follows their victims in order to reverse, correct, or avenge a rejection (e.g., divorce, separation, termination). Resentful stalkers make a vendetta because of a sense of grievance against the victims – motivated mainly by the desire to frighten and distress the victim. Intimacy seekers seek to establish an intimate, loving relationship with their victim. Such stalkers often believe that the victim is a long-sought-after soul mate, and they were 'meant' to be together. Incompetent suitors, despite poor social or courting skills, have a fixation, or in some cases, a sense of entitlement to an intimate relationship with those who have attracted their amorous interest. Their victims are most often already in a dating relationship with someone else. Finally, predatory stalkers spy on the victim in order to prepare and plan an attack – often sexual – on the victim.

When I was 14, I gained employment at a convenience store in my hometown. I had been babysitting since I was 12, but this was my first real job. I started by stocking shelves and cleaning, then moved into the café and began making the fresh food we sold in the store. When I was 15, I got promoted to working at the cashier and was soon working full-time in the evenings and weekends. One day, the manager hired a man in his 20s who I was asked to train. He took a liking to me and quickly became inappropriate. He would watch me from across the store whenever I was stocking shelves or counting inventory. He would always be telling me stories about drinking or doing drugs, or sexual jokes, to see what he could get away with saying around me. He would be waiting for me when I came out of the washroom. Soon he started pressuring me for my number, and to hang out outside of work. I explained that I was only 15, but he said that did not bother him. He would “compliment” me all the time and comment on what I was doing, making me feel increasingly uncomfortable. If I turned around, he would always be right there behind me. I never complained about it though, I did not want to get anyone in trouble.

My family started getting weird phone calls from an unknown man asking for me. Mom would have to screen all our phone calls, trying to find out who was calling. Meanwhile, the guy was becoming more insistent at work, asking me out more and more. Suggesting that we go to a party or dinner. I told my mom what was happening, and she figured it must be the same guy who was calling the house. Keep in mind, this was before cell phones were really accessible to everyone. This man was calling our landline; I had never given him my phone number, so he had to look it up in either my employee file or the phone book. He would have gone through a lot of work to find the correct number. He started asking my mom for permission to date me whenever he called, and she always refused. I told my boss what happened, and she scheduled us on different shifts, as he had not yet done anything that she could fire him for. At this point, we knew it was him doing these things, but could not prove it. He instead started showing up hours early for his shift, just to cross paths with me and would wait at the store to watch me. Finally, it escalated further, we began seeing a man standing in our front yard at different times of the day. We had a huge window facing the street and would see marks on the glass from someone who was looking inside. Early one morning, mom saw him in our flower bed, looking in through the window. He changed it up to only spying on me during the dark hours of the day.

Thankfully, stalkers are often not highly intelligent people. They are opportunistic and resourceful, but not overly smart. This man was no exception. He was caught smoking marijuana at work during his breaks and was fired. He was also banned from the premises and the police were informed about what he had been doing to me. No longer able to watch me and follow me around with the pretence of work, and the addition of the police being aware, he soon gave up on me. I was relieved, to say the least, but still never told anyone about what I had been going through. The stalking had not been taken very seriously; at most it was viewed as a nuisance. He had never touched me and never became violent, so there was little the police or my employers could do. They chalked it up to harassment and we all moved on. Looking back, years later when I was older, I realized how lucky I was it did not escalate further or continue after he was fired. However, I also realized that this was a big and serious thing for a 15-year-old girl to go through. This was an older man who was inappropriate with me at work and then began finding ways to contact me and follow me. It was actually the reason I soon after received my first cell phone and was no longer allowed to walk myself to and from work alone. I also soon changed jobs to one where my friends worked so that I was never alone at work again.

As a fun addition, I now get to discuss cyber-stalking! Originally, this subject ended with the previous paragraph, but now my most recent ex has resorted to stalking me online. Why? I assume it is to "hoover" me (suck me back into his life), I know he has been struggling since I left him and I feel that he can't find anyone to put up with him for as long as I did. So how is he stalking me online? Well, after our breakup we both unfriended one another and ceased following each other on all social media. I thought that would be good enough for parting ways. Apparently not, because he could still see what I was posting on TikTok, he could view my IG profile, and he was using our mutual friends on FB to follow me that way. Essentially, while we were not FB "Friends", we still were each friends with multiple people. So if I posted something or was tagged in something by someone he knew, he could see that. He was also looking at my friends' list to see who I was befriending and then adding them too. After I left town, he added all of the single women I had been friends with to gain information about me and to potentially entrap. He was also going through my archived posts from years past and reacting to them. These actions meant that I was still in contact with him, albeit indirectly, and that he was attempting to derail my healing and moving on from him. So I was forced to report him for harassment on multiple platforms, as well as block him. I then had to publicly notify people of what he was doing so they could alter their privacy settings or also unfriend him to prevent any further contact and interactions. I hope that will be the end of it. Fingers crossed!

Now, if you are reading this post, the second of the series, you likely have read the first post. If not, I recommend doing so to best understand further discussions. You can read that one here https://www.nollitall.com/single-post/scars-unseen-why-i-m-like-this-part-1. Having read that first one, you will be aware that I was raised in a physically abusive home. I knew it was wrong that my father had hurt us growing up, but I had also normalized that behaviour in relationships. Thus, it was not all too surprising that when I entered into my first relationships, that I did not know how to set boundaries and keep myself safe in them. I got my first boyfriend when I was 16, it ended quickly as I was not really all that interested in him. I briefly “dated” another boy, but again ended it after a couple of weeks. When I was 17, I graduated high school and moved to university. I had a boyfriend at the time, more on him when we talk about Sexual Abuse, but we soon broke up due to the distance.

I was young, fresh out of high school, had never been away from home for more than a couple of weeks, and now I was on my own. I entered into my first serious relationship in October of 2009. I had met a boy on the second day of orientation, and we flirted for a month before we finally got together. He was 18, short, overweight, and had glasses that made him look like a mole. I was also his first girlfriend. His friends would often tease him about how I was out of his league, how I was taller than him, how inexperienced he was. As a result, an already young and insecure man was made to feel even more insecure. He quickly became jealous and controlling. We would have arguments over nothing, and he was often physical. He once pinned me down on the dorm floor, arms behind my back and his weight on my neck. I was screaming for him to stop, shouting that he was hurting me, and I was beginning to struggle to breathe. His roommate and friend were in the room, they sat on the bed and watched. He thankfully let up and I stormed back to my dorm room on the opposite side of the building. I came back though, he had apologized and promised not to do it again. The way our dorms worked, girls were on the Westside and boys were on the Eastside. Two people to a room, unless you were lucky enough to get a single. My first month of school was the same month that H1N1 hit Canada, we students were greatly affected by this and many became sick. My boyfriend wound up with a bad cold, and fearful of infection, my roommate kicked me out of our dorm. So, I effectively moved into his dorm room that he shared with another guy. Down the hall, was my boyfriend’s friend from high school, who then started dating my boyfriend’s roommate. Four of us were packed into that room for months. Every time we fought, his roommates would ignore it, we were not exactly quiet either. Everyone on the floor could hear us yelling or me shouting for him to stop. He would slap me, or push me, twist my arm until I screamed, or pin me down. I would storm back to my room, and people would always laugh and comment about how I was “moving out” again, but I kept going back. He would “love bomb” me, and I did not know what to do except go back. My roommate had rearranged the beds in our rooms, so she had one queen-sized bed. Not having a place to sleep, and not wanting to cause any further issues, I thought I had to keep going back. My boyfriend once tried to slap me, but I caught his hand and bent his fingers back in self-defence. Instead, he slapped me with his other hand, making my ears ring. I figured, that if everyone could hear us and still didn’t help, that if we had literal witnesses and no one ever stood up for me, and that if I still got hurt when I defended myself; then there must not be anything I could do to make it stop. I stayed with him for four months until he broke up with me after Christmas Break.

After that point, his friends became violent with me. It was a bit more complicated in their reasoning for why, but essentially, they knew they could get away with it. His friend who was dating his roommate began telling my secrets to everyone at the school. He once picked me up and threw me into a garbage can, shoving me so far down that I could not pull myself out. I waited for ten minutes until someone helped me out. He chased me down a hallway and shoved me into the wall at the end. Then he pushed me into the open window and held me outside of it. He once chased me down some stairs and pushed me down a flight of them. I sprained my ankle when I fell. Another time, someone had broken the window of a door and he pushed me into the glass on the floor. Other guys would shove me when they walked by, and they would shout insults at me when I was walking in common areas. It got so bad, I fell into my first experience of depression and nearly failed out of my second semester. I began having nightmares about the guys at the school. I even filled out an application to transfer schools but never heard back. I felt trapped. Thankfully, the next year, most of those men had failed out of university or they transferred elsewhere.

I did not enter into any relationships again after this boy, again, more will be explained in the sexual abuse episode. The next time I “lived” with a man was when I moved in with my dad to do my second degree in Edmonton. Dad lived north of the city and offered me free room and board for the two years of that degree. I had not lived with my father since I was 11 years old, but figured by now, he would have mellowed out and I shouldn’t have any issues with him. I was wrong.

Living with my father was harder as an adult than it was as a child. He relied on me way more in those two years than he did when I was younger. I was now his maid, chef, personal shopper, assistant, bookkeeper, and only source of entertainment. On top of a demanding school schedule and two practicums, and 80 minutes of travel to school each morning and evening. I was exhausted from taking care of him. He promised me money for all the work I did, and to cover the expenses of my car, but he rarely gave me any money. He refused to allow me a job, worried that I would have less time for him; not that I really had the energy or time to work outside of the house and school. He was working for a farm equipment company in a neighbouring town and would come home every day, complaining about the idiot farmers and his moronic coworkers. No one knew anything except him, only he was smart enough and capable enough to do his job and that of everyone else. My only escape was staying with friends for brief periods of time. I will forever be grateful to those who took me in at all hours to escape his angry rants and endless demands for me to effectively be his parent and spouse. He did have a girlfriend at this time, but he viewed her as “only good for one thing”. He had a million and one complaints about how useless she and every other woman was, while constantly needing me to do everything for him. Finally, one day he came home so furious about something at work that things escalated back when I was a child.

Until this moment, I feared him when he came home mad and would rant for hours about the failings of everyone in the world, but he had yet to be physical. I could handle the verbal abuse he would shout and sling about the house at no one in particular. This time was different. I was making dinner when he came into the kitchen and grabbed my shoulder from behind. Tensing up, he turned me around and shouted that I needed to book him a trip to Cuba immediately or else he was going to kill someone. Keeping his hand on my shoulder, he was standing between my exit and I had my back pinned to the kitchen counter. He started shouting about some idiot at work that had upset him. His one hand waving in the air, he decided to enact on me what he wanted to do to that guy. He slammed the side of his hand into my throat, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to knock the air out of me and freak me out. He let me go and left the room, again warning me to book that trip or someone would end up dead. I finished dinner, booked his flight, and left the house for two weeks to stay with a friend. Claiming I had a big project coming up on my practicum and wanted to be closer to my school. That incident was never spoken of again between us, but I was forever fearful of him. I had never imagined that he would lay a hand on me as an adult, and the fact that it didn’t even phase him or register as an issue made me know that it could easily happen again with no thought or warning.

My father was eventually fired from his job, he alleges it was because of a poor performance review that was rigged for him to fail; although it was also heard that he had started a fistfight at work. Violence and abuse are so pervasive in my father’s life, that he still does not understand why his children want to have no relationship with him. He views all he did as required discipline, or as an important part of raising children, after all, that was how he was raised, and he turned out perfect.

Now let’s go back, way back, once more to my childhood days to discuss bullying. Bullying is also physical abuse. Typically between peers in a school setting, a bully can also grow with children and permeate all aspects of a person’s life. Bullying is any use of force, coercion, hurtful teasing or threats, to abuse, aggressively dominate or intimidate. The behaviour is often repeated and habitual. One essential prerequisite is the perception (by the bully or by others) of an imbalance of physical or social power. Now, knowing all you know about me thus far, I think one can safely assume that I was also bullied. From Kindergarten until grade 7, and again in University, occasionally it happened in the workplace too.

Bullying can manifest in multiple ways, including but not limited to; cyberbullying, bullying of protected peoples, parental bullying of children, school bullying, sexual bullying, workplace bullying, relational bullying (the use of relationships to hurt others), and collective bullying or mobbing (a group bullying an individual). Bullying can be verbal and/or physical, covert or overt. Do you recall those young men in university who insulted and mocked me? Bullies! My father? A bully! My family members and the people I grew up with within my community? Bullies. The little girls on the playground who refused to be my friend or would use me to make another girl jealous? They were engaged in school bullying and relational bullying. The little boys on the playground that would shove me into gravel or broken glass? They were physically bullying me. The past fling that I worked within a restaurant that once threw a menu at me and would constantly keep me late at work to do all the tasks alone? Workplace bullying. The boys who would drop items for me to pick up so they could peep up my skirt or down my shirt, and would throw items into my cleavage? Sexual bullying.

I grew up with such horrible shame from my multiple years and numerous types of bullying, even now I will recall an incident and be kept awake all night thinking about what I did to deserve that treatment and how I could have avoided it. The truth is, there was nothing I could have done. I was not and am not responsible for what my abusers did to me. There was a noticeable power imbalance between me and my abusers. Something that I am still working to fight against. The phrase “it takes two to tango” is often used in the case of abuse and bullying. Suggesting that both parties are responsible for the actions that occur. That there would not be any abuse if the victim were to leave the “dance floor”. While there are two parties, the abuser and the abused, the abuser holds all of the responsibility for the abuse that occurs. The abused did not ask to be part of the “tango”. If you ever find yourself the target of a bully, it is not your fault. If you were ever a target, you were not to blame. Anyone who says you brought it upon yourself, is wrong. Now, this is not to say that a victim has no power at all. We are responsible for ourselves and how we react. The best course of action is to seek out someone with more power than our bully. Ideally someone you trust and feel safe with. Open up to them, as vulnerable as it makes you seem, you will be so powerful and brave at that moment. Explain what is happening and ask for help to end it. If you come across a weak adult, find another who is stronger. Do not give up on yourself. This goes for any type of bullying, tell a parent, a teacher, a counsellor, your boss, report them for online harassment, call the police. Anything to show the bully/abuser that what they are doing is not acceptable and to shift the balance of power.

Now, one more recent instance of physical abuse to cap off this episode in my abuse series. The last man I lived with was physically abusive. Although if you were to ask him, he’d claim he never laid a hand on me in violence. As discussed earlier, he did not need to touch me to be physically abusive (although he did escalate to physical violence), the threat of violence is enough for physical abuse. Early on in my relationship with this man, I told him of my childhood and past experiences with violence and bullying. He expressed sympathy and ensured me he would never hurt me. Of course, this would soon be proven a lie that would last for over four years. He knew that my father and other men in my life had yelled and screamed at me, that they had physically hurt me and used their power to get their way. He started out slowly with multiple slights that I would brush off until there were too many to ignore, when I would crumble beneath the weight of his insults and misbehaviours he would play the victim and blame me for the ensuing argument. He’d raise his voice towards me and I’d often cower and cry, or else react back. This is known as reactive abuse, where the victim of abuse reacts toward their abuser with shouting, insults, or physical abuse of their own. The abuser relies on the reactive abuse of their victim to manipulate and gaslight their victim. So often he would push me to the point of “snapping” and then state that I was the abusive partner in the relationship. My reaction to his abuse only proved to him that I was mentally ill and unstable. He would bring it up in every argument, how delusional I was, that I had started the fight, that I needed help. This forced me to accept the blame for the vast majority of our arguments and left me with feelings of guilt and shame. I began seeking counselling for my abuse from multiple therapists and took numerous mental health courses. Everyone kept telling me that I was not the abuser, but he had me so confused and ashamed, I kept seeking help for my abuse. Occasionally, reactive abuse can be confused with mutual abuse, which is where both partners are equally abusive to one another. However, experts of domestic violence and abuse agree that mutual abuse is extremely rare, and some do not even think it exists. The power imbalance and control dynamics would make it nearly impossible for both partners to be abusive. So how would one know that I was reactive towards my abuser and not the actual abuser? Simply by looking at my relationships with other people. I cannot recall any previous relationships, of any kind, where I was abusive or controlling, or manipulative. I know that the person I was with him was not and is not the person I normally am. However, if you look at his relationships with his family, friends, and past partners, there were so many instances of him screaming and insulting others, of his bullying, and manipulating people to get his way. How he treated people he viewed as lesser than him, or who annoyed him; it was clear he was an abuser.

The worst it got for me was the time we were making Christmas presents for his family members. He had the idea to custom make tree ornaments for all of his family members, and to make popcorn bags with homemade seasonings. A large and expensive endeavour, I agreed to it because I thought it would be fun and a lovely personalized gift. At some point, he became upset about the plan and insisted that I had concocted this stupid gift idea to steal all of his money (a regular fear for him) and that his family was going to hate this idea. He began screaming at me for wasting his time and money when I then threw a bag of powdered buttermilk at the wall. It exploded everywhere and he was red with rage. He screamed at me even more, and in my fear, I slapped him across the face. The fight was over then. I had reacted the worst way possible in my mind, but it was honestly the only thing that ever made him stop screaming at me. I never touched him in anger again, but he would often bring up the time I had “beaten” him or “punched” him to remind me that I was the real abuser. Even after he started punching walls, slamming doors, kicking furniture, breaking his phone into little bits, tearing the countertop off of the kitchen island, driving erratically, and shaking me in rage; he insisted that I was the physically abusive one. He even sent me a letter post-breakup saying that he ceased trusting me after I beat him.

I still feel immense guilt for that one slap, I have never hit anyone before or since, I know I never will. That one moment was a reaction of fear and self-defence. Although I cannot forget what I have done, I am learning to forgive myself. That is the difference between reactive abuse and actual abuse. I did not intend for what I did to happen, an involuntary reaction from my history with trauma and my CPTSD (complex post-traumatic stress disorder). He, on the other hand, intended to do every action he did to control me and gain the desired behaviour or action.

While I would never condone violence against another, it can cause an abuser to cease the abuse. Hence why some parents may tell their children to fight back against a bully, or why a teacher may turn a blind eye when a victim stands up to a bully on the schoolyard. It is rare that the abuser would expect a taste of their own medicine, thus why it can slow them down. Why I would not condone it, is because no one, even a bully, deserves violence. Furthermore, it can cause the abuser to escalate. I was lucky it made my partner stop, but it would have made my father angrier.

Knowing what I know now, I can recommend some things to anyone who is in an abusive relationship, has been in an abusive relationship, or witnesses abuse. Tell a trusted adult what is happening to you. If possible, leave at the first sign of danger. If you see something, safely get involved, although in the case of witnessing domestic abuse, do not engage at the moment as that will cause the abuser to take their anger out in private. Speak up and make others aware of what is happening. There is no shame in being a victim. Find a counsellor and get help.