Scars Unseen: Why I'm Like This (Part 4)

This particular post will focus on Emotional and Verbal abuse, as they are quite similar. Verbal abuse relies on controlling the emotions and thoughts of the victim. Emotional abuse is typically enacted through verbal acts, such as insults, yelling, and gaslighting.

Emotional abuse, also known as psychological abuse, is a form of abuse, characterized by a person subjecting or exposing another person to behavior that may result in psychological trauma, including anxiety, chronic depression, or post-traumatic stress disorder. It is often associated with situations of power imbalance in abusive relationships, and may include bullying, gaslighting, and abuse in the workplace.

Verbal abuse is when someone repeatedly uses words to demean, frighten or control. It is a destructive form of communication intended to harm the self-concept of the other person and produce negative emotions. Verbal abuse is a maladaptive mechanism that anyone can display occasionally, such as during times of high stress or physical discomfort. For some people, it is a pattern of behaviors used intentionally to control or manipulate others or to get revenge.

Keep in mind, that I am in no way an expert, I simply speak from my own experiences with a peppering of research from articles and books. It is also important to remind you, reader, that women and men, both, are capable of abuse. While my stories are typically abuse from men, I have experienced abuse from women too.

So, with that all said, let’s get down to business.

If you have been reading along, then you will have learned that a lot of my experiences with other forms of abuse also included emotional and verbal abuse. Considering how commonplace these two types of abuse are, most everyone could say they have experienced it or taken part. Quite often, verbal and emotional abuse are the first instances of abuse that a victim will face. It is rare, nearly impossible, that a victim will experience any other form of abuse without first experiencing verbal and emotional abuse. Unfortunately, these two forms of abuse will escalate into more dangerous forms of abuse. This does not always happen, of course, many people who are capable of uttering cruel words, and emotionally manipulating others, are not capable of physically committing other acts of abuse. As stated earlier, verbal abuse is something anyone can display. The important thing to note is that while anyone can display verbal abuse upon occasion in times of high stress or discomfort, most do not continue that abuse repeatedly or in other situations. Research shows that emotional abuse is a precursor to physical abuse when three particular forms of emotional abuse are present in the relationship: threats, restriction of the abused party and damage to the victim's property.

The verbal abuser may be responding to the victim's "separateness", i.e., independent thoughts, views, desires, feelings, expressions (even of happiness) which the abuser views as a threat, irritant or attack. Some believe that the abuser has low self-esteem and then so, attempts to place their victim in a similar position, i.e., to believe negative things about themselves.

Due to the abuser's need for dominance and overall unwillingness to accept their victim as an equal, the verbal abuser is compelled to negate the perceptions of the partner, about the abuse, which causes more psychological pain to the victim. This is also known as gaslighting, because the abuser keeps the target of abuse off-balance with their hot-and-cold unpredictable behavior. This confusion adds to the pain caused by emotional abuse and keeps the victim off-balance.

Typically, in romantic or family relationships, verbal abuse increases in intensity and frequency over time. After exposure to verbal abuse, victims may develop clinical depression. The person targeted by verbal abuse over time may succumb to any stress-related illness. Verbal abuse creates emotional pain and mental anguish in its target. In addition, children who are victims of verbal abuse may practice abuse on others later on.

Despite the fact that verbal and emotional abuse do not leave bruising or scars, both types of abuse can be as detrimental to a person's health as physical abuse. Perhaps more so, because others are less likely to view it as seriously, causing further doubt. In addition, a bruise will fade and heal, but emotional scars last forever.

What exactly is the difference between verbal abuse and an argument? Considering that anyone can be subjected to or engage in verbal abuse, how does one tell the difference from a disagreement and abuse? A healthy disagreement between anyone likely will not dissolve into name-calling or personal attacks, if it does then it is from frustration and is unusual and the parties work through it together. They are not a regular occurrence, and they usually have an issue to solve as opposed to an attack on one’s character. Punishments and threats are not the go-to to resolve the issue, and there are no winners or losers. Major red flags to look for are attempts to insult or humiliate and then accusations of being too sensitive or brushing it off as a “joke.” Frequent screaming/yelling and swearing are also red flags. Another red flag is if the arguments seem to come by surprise; if you cannot think of a main issue that is trying to be solved, and instead you are being blamed for starting the argument. Furthermore, if the disagreement then dredges up previous and unrelated issues, it can put you on the defensive and is meant to confuse. Typically, abusers will attempt to make their victim feel guilty and then position themselves as the victim. A healthy disagreement can occur in public, but abuse is typically saved for private moments, so the abuser will not ruin their public image. In addition, beware if they get into your personal space or block you from moving, hit the wall, pound their fists, or throw things. Finally, the verbal abuser will want credit for not having hit you.

One important term I want to clarify is gaslighting. It is a popular term nowadays, yet it is often misused. Gaslighting is a form of psychological manipulation that abusers use to sow seeds of doubt to cause their victim to make them question their own memory, judgement, and perception. Victims may develop low self-esteem and cognitive dissonance, the confusion caused by holding two conflicting beliefs or opinions. This results in victims relying more on their abuser, as they are de-stabilized and seek validation. Gaslighting uses denial, misdirection, contradiction, and disinformation. While gaslighting requires deceit, lying is not gaslighting. The lie must be done to cause someone to no longer belief their own version of an event and to distrust themselves in order for it to be gaslighting.

Knowing all of this, here are some examples of my experiences with verbal and emotional abuse. It is one thing to read about a definition of abuse, but it is an entirely other thing recognize that it happens to people we know. As always, reader’s discretion is advised.

The irony of the abuse I received from my father is that he tried so hard to control me and to ensure that I turned out to be a “good girl”. Meaning, a subservient and obedient helpmate to men around me. Guess what? Now I have cut all contact with him and gladly have no relationship with my father. I could happily live my life never talking to him again. Furthermore, I’m far from what he would view a good girl. I have thoughts and opinions of my own that are backed up by experience and education. I’m also not afraid to speak up and have my voice heard. I am also a professional pole dancer, burlesque dancer, boudoir model, and I have an OF. Absolutely no disrespect to people who choose to do those things, I am proudly one of you. I only mention them in this context because I know my father would be disgusted if he knew I took part in this lifestyle. He always had little comments about warning me from doing something or else I’d be a “whore” or a “slut”, ironically, again, he viewed women as only “good for one thing”, so I’m pretty sure I was raised to fail him. Oh well! He once told me that when he looks at me, he sees a beautiful and intelligent young woman, but when I speak then I ruin the illusion. He said that to me the weekend he was in town for a family member’s funeral and my moving weekend. It was already a time of great emotion and big changes, and he just had to add that little jab. If you talk to him, he has almost no recollection of how he treated our family, but once he gets going, he very quickly begins blaming my mother for how he acted for over a decade. A common threat in our household was to “quit crying, or I’ll give you something to cry about.” The abuse I received from my father in my fundamental years, shaped how I viewed myself and influenced how others viewed me.

So, having been raised in abuse, I internalized a lot of that treatment. More so than I expected or realised. I did not have any real lasting relationships until four years ago. I attempted to date but was not very successful. Boyfriends stuck around for a month or four, but never longer. I entered into a lot of FWBs or “situationships”, an undefined and uncommitted romantic relationship that forms out of convenience. So when I met my most recent partner, I figured I had been single for so long that I truly knew and respected myself. Everything happened so fast with him. He loved me the first day, he wanted me to move in after the first weekend together. I was searching for a job in his town after a month, we moved in after a few months. He was talking about our future, a wedding, kids, growing old together. I was honestly caught up in the whirlwind romance of it all. Red flags went unnoticed or uncontested, because I so desperately wanted this to work, and I didn’t recognize a lot of red flags as issues. He asked me to be exclusive and promised the same, then he laughingly tells me how he had kissed multiple people since proclaiming his love and commitment to me. He played it off as saying that we weren’t in a relationship yet, so he was free to be with who he wanted. He invited me down to spend five days with him and when I arrived, I found he wasn’t home. He had left town for a last-minute opportunity and wouldn’t return for three days. He allegedly lost his phone and keys for two of those days, so I didn’t know what to do, if I should wait for him or go home. He returns and immediately asks me to be his girlfriend. Then he drops the bomb that he had been with someone else those past couple days, but he didn’t want to be with them, it was just out of convenience and he didn’t do anything, but he let her touch him. Again, he said we weren’t in a relationship, so I couldn’t be upset and anyway, we were in a relationship now so I shouldn’t make an issue of something in “the past.” I didn’t realise it at the time, but he was beginning to gaslight me, he would lie to me often, discount and trivialize my thoughts, and minimise my feelings.

He had told me early on that he had a bad memory and was paranoid about a lot of things. I did not realise that he would use those things against me often. He could never be bothered to remember important dates or details, I ended up taking on the load of remembering most everything for him and if I forgot something, it was my fault. He was constantly paranoid that I would leave him, or that his friends and family didn’t like him, or that people were conspiring against him. Whenever I attempted to assuage his feelings, he’d accuse me of being a part of the conspiracies or for trying to manipulate his emotions. I became his entire social life, because he felt that if we were truly committed to one another, we shouldn’t need other people to spend time with. He was beginning to isolate me even further. He had already gotten me to give up my job, and family to be with him. Now I was in an unfamiliar town and only knew him. For two years, I did not make a single friend, my life revolved around him. I tried to encourage him to spend time with his friends, but he would always come back with “not feeling secure enough in our relationship” to spend time with others than me. I was feeling suffocated, and it would often grow into an issue that grew into arguments. Early on, whenever I became to overwhelmed from his treatment, I attempted to find some space of my own. I am the type of person that requires space and quiet to recharge. As an introvert, I feel better with alone time, and can figure out issues when I have some time and space to process and resolve. He never allowed me that space, he would get in my face and insist that we figure it out now. That if he gave me some alone time and space, I would waste it and we would never resolve an issue. I honestly only wanted some time to calm down and think without the passion of the moment clouding my judgement. This was his way of escalating issues and being able to blame me for the arguments we had. He would argue every little point and dredge up issues that would make me defensive and confused. Eventually I’d snap and I’d grab my keys to leave the house to cool down, or I’d pack a ridiculous bag full of nothing and say I’m leaving. I never had anywhere to go, I’d just drive around for half an hour to call my mom and cry. Then I’d go home, and the argument would start again because I was “trying to leave him”. This was his foundation for the idea that I would abandon him, and that he couldn’t trust me. I quickly realised that leaving for space was wrong, so I started having to lock myself into the bathroom, just to have a minute to myself to think. I knew this wasn’t healthy, but I didn’t know how to fix it. Arguments would always end with me apologizing, in tears, and I’d be so physically exhausted and emotionally drained, that I’d pass out once I had agreed that I was at fault and that I would work harder to change.

He was extremely judgemental and critical of me. He hated when I would talk about anyone in public, just in case someone was listening and thought maybe we were talking about them. I could be a family member, or a friend, or a complete stranger; I was not to talk about others. He also hated when I didn’t have a preference where we would sit. Now I know this is often a low-key pet peeve for most people, but have you ever been abandoned in public because you wouldn’t pick a spot to sit, or you picked one he didn’t like? I used to work as a hostess in a restaurant, so I knew the intricacies involved in seating people. When walking into a restaurant, I would wait to be told where to sit; he would walk in and decided where he wanted to be seated and didn’t like that I would wait. He figured restaurant staff was there to do what he wanted. We would often go to a fancy sit-down restaurant, and he would tell them we were in a rush. Staff never worked fast enough for his liking and he’d always pay with a gift card and leave a shitty tip. Heads-up, a major red flag is poor treatment of wait staff or retail workers. I used to volunteer my time for the high school musical theatre class, I had years of sewing and theatre experience, so I made the costumes for their shows. The teacher and the students asked me to come to opening and closing night, as they had surprises planned for me. My ex came with me for both shows, but only stayed to watch the closing night show, because he was offended by my choice of seat for the opening night. He wanted to sit in a chair on the floor, but I knew we had reserved seats and was waiting until the teacher could direct us to them. My partner was furious, but he couldn’t act out in public, so he hissed insults at me while we waited in the wings to be ushered to our seats. Just as lights were being flashed to announce the show as about to start, he walked out on me and drove home. I watched the entire show alone, with an empty seat beside me, but put on a smile when I accepted my flowers and cards from my students that evening and then walked home alone. Yes, this was all my fault. He was never proud of my accomplishments, rather he viewed them as a way for me to gain confidence outside of him and he worked very hard to judge and critique all my choices. We joined a national charitable organization together, something we had both always wanted to be a part of; him for his family legacy, and me to give back to the community. He was voted to be the Treasurer and I was asked to be the President after serving for only a year. He took this to be the ultimate insult, that I had the audacity to be his “superior”, I had no choice to turn down the position, as I had been nominated and elected and the decision was passed. I served for three years and turned the organization around from near failing and losing the building, to doubling the membership and becoming a major business in our community. Every step of the way, he would criticize my decisions and refuse to help me with all planning and events. He constantly refused or “forgot” to do his job too, so I was often stuck acting as the Treasurer, except at the public meetings. Anything I asked him to do for the charity, he would refuse because I shouldn’t use my “power as President” to demand things of my “boyfriend”. He often told me that I was only nominated as “a joke”, and that people “hoped I’d fail”. If I had an issue with another member, he would be on their side because he knew how “overbearing” and “negative” I am to work with. He had multiple complaints about my weight and lack of exercise, yet when I tried to spend money to join a class or a sport, he was upset about the waste of money. I took up pole dancing, but he hated that. He viewed me as a disappointment and an embarrassment. He hated attending my shows, telling me it was disgusting what I was doing and how ashamed he was that people knew it was me on the stage. He thought us ladies were all whores and sluts for displaying ourselves in such ways, even though we never took off clothes, and I was often in full bodysuits or a crop top and shorts. One time I sang at a show and he was so late and drunk for much of the performance that he didn’t even bother listening to me. Yet if you asked him in public what he thought, he would always say how talented I was and how proud he was of me.

I wasn’t allowed to go out with my girlfriends unless he came along, in case I tried to talk to a man or talk about him. He hated if I spoke to his friends or family without his knowledge, in fact he even went so far as to forbid his mother and I from forming a relationship for the first two years. He also wouldn’t allow me to talk to male friends, single or otherwise, in case we might be trying to cheat on him. Yet he was allowed to have female friends, because I should trust him. Early in our relationship, he insisted I be friendly to the women he had been intimate with before me. It made me uncomfortable, because I knew that they were upset that I was now in the picture. One woman constantly made comments to me that if he “was her man, he’d never forget things about me”, or he’d “never keep me waiting”. She had a million reasons why he would be better to her than me, and when I told him this, he laughed it off and called her a troublemaker. She made me feel insecure and would find reasons to be alone with him and then tell me about it afterwards. When I voiced my concerns, he told me that he had a history with her, and he would likely be with her instead of me if they lived closer together.

My major red flag should have come from the fact that my father loved him, and he felt the same about my father. I first fell for my partner because I thought he was the exact opposite of my father, but of course they were practically twins. (Literally, they were both late May Gemini narcissists!) My father would call me to talk to my partner, he even remembered his birthday and not mine. Whenever I would voice a frustration about my dad, I was met with plenty of defense from my partner about how great my dad was. When I discussed the abuse I faced growing up, he’d tell me that my dad deserved forgiveness because he was likely forced to behave that way to deal with my mother. And how!! Did he ever hate my mother. Another red flag is if your partner never gets along with any partners’ parents. Every mother-in-law he had, he swore was “crazy” and “evil” and “out to get him”. When it came to my mother, he was as openly hostile with her as he was with me, his hostility grew with her at the same rate as his with me. He always had a reason for why he couldn’t come visit, and he only allowed her to stay with us a handful of times where his parents stayed with us as much as we stayed with them. He actively tried to keep me from calling her or answering her phone calls. She remembered early on when I used to call her crying and she found it hard to forget those moments, but I stopped telling her how bad the relationship was because I couldn’t handle listening to her say that I should come home. She used to buy us groceries and bring us food when she visited and then she would give me the receipts to claim as my contribution to the household. He hated her for that because it messed with his system of indebting me to him further. He was always bringing her up in our fights, saying she was the reason I was so delusional. That she deserved how my father treated her, and that she was actually the cause of their fights. He would tell me that I was a terrible partner because I was raised in abuse and would forever perpetuate abuse, because my mother was toxic. He used to make up lies about her, saying she ignored him, or yelled at him, or even insulted him. He always conveniently forgot the details though. My mom calls my brother a “frogbutt” or “toad” when he is being mischievous. She called my partner a toad, and he took that to be a deep and personal insult. I explained to him what it meant, but he didn’t care, he had made up his mind. He would often talk over our conversations and would insult her choice of TV or movies.

Now speaking of mothers. His mother was as toxic as him. When we were literally forbidden from forming a relationship for the first two years, it did not help us foster a strong bond once he eventually allowed us to talk to one another outside of him. The relationship did start out well between us, she was warm and welcoming, but soon she became problematic and dangerous. If you have read my earlier blog posts, you will know I have Celiac’s Disease. This means I cannot eat gluten as it will make me very sick. His mother started feeding me food I could not eat or would not feed me at all. She’d often make meals that were all gluten based, like processed sausage and pancakes for breakfast and sandwiches for lunch and pasta for dinner. I always offered to help cook or to get groceries, but she’d often refuse me. On occasion, she’d swear something was gluten-free and act surprised when I got sick. She started sending us off with food or bringing us goodies that would be not gluten free but labelled as such or just not have anything for me to eat. We once went to a family BBQ and they only served hotdogs and multigrain chips. I went that entire day with nothing to eat because I wasn’t allowed to leave to find food and they didn’t want to get any dishes dirty so they only served handheld food that I couldn’t eat. After the BBQ, his mother and SIL showed me all of the groceries that they had bought for the meal that were safe for me, they told me how it would have been a hassle for them if they had to make food for me to eat. My partner thought it was funny that I had been “forgotten”. I once saw his mother and aunts dumping an unsafe BBQ sauce onto and into the foods they were making for a meal. To be sure, I checked the bottles after they were emptied and saw numerous ingredients that I could not eat. I turned down the majority of items at dinner and they told me I was being rude. I pointed out that I knew it was unsafe for me and they tried to deny it. I didn’t bother making a further mess of the issue, but the damage was done. The next day, his mother ambushed me in the storage room and laid out a list of complaints about me. I started crying and my partner did make her stop, but he quickly changed his mind of defending me and laid out his own issues about me. She and I never had a good relationship since, but she often pretended we were close in public and would occasionally mention to me that she wished we had a better relationship. When I first met his parents, they were lovely, but he had major issues with them. He viewed his mother as manipulative and conniving (she is) and hated that she built better relationships with people than him. He didn’t want to have to rely on her to be his go-between for other family members, but he never put in the effort himself to get closer to them either. The first three times I spent time with them, each visit ended in a screaming match between him and his mother. They would yell for hours at one another until he was exhausted, and she was crying, which would only reenergize him. She used to say she couldn’t see him anymore because they were always fighting, I guess they redirected their hate on me, because they never had another fight again. Our biggest issue developed around Christmas one year. The July of that year, his wealthy brother and wife invited us and their parents to Pennsylvania to spend Christmas to them. They promised to pay for everyone and to accommodate us all. Come September, we started booking the trip and the plans changed from a free trip for all, to a free trip for everyone except me. Confused, I asked why, and the entire group claimed I was never included in that original promise, despite me sitting at the table during the discussion and them looking at me when they promised free. Offended, I still decided to go on the trip, but plans continued to change. I was no longer allowed to stay with them at their house, and they might be able to find me a hotel or a room in the country club. Presents were also mandatory for the children, and they planned expensive outing and activities for nearly every day of the 10-day trip. Upset about the changes and exclusion, I spoke up again and was told maybe it would be better if I didn’t come at all. So I decided not to go; this of course was also an issue, and they attempted to guilt me to come nearly every day from October until December. I could not afford the plane tickets from PG to Kelowna, Kelowna to Vancouver, Vancouver to Pennsylvania and then back again. I could not afford a hotel or a room in a country club. I could not afford to rent a car for myself to get to their house for all the meals. I could not afford all of my GF food for ten days. I could not afford presents for their children, nor to pay for the trips and activities. I also could not afford to leave the country while on EI, because I will not get paid over the holidays if I leave Canada. My main issue was that I was being excluded, from aspects of the trip, from free accommodation and travel, from meals, and from all discussions about planning. His brother and SIL would make a change and tell the parents, who would then tell my partner, and then I would find out. They insisted I was only upset because of money and started calling me greedy. At one point, during a phone call, his mother set down the phone and walked out of the room to literally shriek in anger. His brother and SIL never spoke to me again after I missed that Christmas.

My ex was also an alcoholic, but he refused to belief he had a problem. He could never have just one drink, it always escalated until he was black out and belligerent. Remember that Mexico trip he paid for? He screamed at me every single night of our vacation. He was drunk every day, to the point that he would forget who he was talking to or what he was doing. The stag night, I came back later than him and he crawled from the elevator to the lobby to bring me back up to the room. He then proceeded to scream at me for what a whore I was because I was drunk and had stayed out later than him. He accused me of being a slut because I had danced with men at the bars. Even though I had tried to stay away from strange men, it was still my fault because I had dressed like I was interested. He also accused me of allowing men to pee on me and claim me. I don’t even know where he got that idea from, but he brought it up in other arguments later on when he wanted to prove I couldn’t be trusted. He also abandoned me on the streets of downtown Puerto Vallarta because I didn’t feel comfortable walking down random streets to find an art gallery. He didn’t know if there was an art gallery in the area, he just wanted to try and find one. I walked the half hour back to the resort alone and afraid. My boundaries were a joke for him. I feel uncomfortable in unfamiliar settings and would rely on him as my support, but he’d always tell me to get over it and then leave me alone. I don’t like being picked up, I find it painful and frightening to have no control when someone grabs me and lifts me, he used to do it all the time and get mad at me when I was scared. We went camping with the same friends from the wedding, this trip was his first-time meeting all of my friends before we were going to go to Mexico. He got so drunk that night, he told all my friends that he really likes me, except for that one week out of every month (wink, wink, nudge, nudge), got into arguments with my male friends about helping us set up our stuff and put up the tent, he gave away all of our food for the weekend, vomited in a circle around our tent, tore apart the shirt my mother made for him and then tried to break up with me because I am so unbearable. On the way home, he complained about how awful I was and how terrible my friends are. He hated everyone I loved, and always told me not to expect to see them very much. He only ever met my friends a max of five times in four years because she didn’t want to have to spend time with such toxic people. We always had to do what he wanted, even if it was a half-baked scheme that he had just thought of. Anytime I tried to shut down some ill-advised plan, he accused me of never letting him do anything. He viewed me as a killer of dreams because I didn’t approve of taking a week off of work for him to do a one day acting camp in another province that cost more money than he would make in that week. His work was great for him that way, they often allowed him the flexibility to up and leave for whatever he wanted. They also had all expenses paid company Christmas parties and summer BBQs. The first one I went to I asked the organizer if they could let me know the menu in advance so I knew what I could and couldn’t eat. She refused and he got mad at me for interfering with his work. I tried my best to stay away from any questionable food at the dinner, but I did not succeed. A couple hours into the evening, I felt so sick, and I couldn’t focus on what I was seeing or saying. I stumbled to the bathroom to try and collect myself but ultimately had to go back to the hotel room. I asked him to help me up the room because I felt so confused and disconnected. He refused to take me because he didn’t want his coworkers to think we were going up to the room to do drugs or have sex. I spent the night vomiting and he spent it in the ballroom with his coworkers, getting drunk. The next day, he was mad at me for eating something I shouldn’t have and compromising his reputation at work. He didn’t care that I was sick, because that was something negative and he wanted us to focus on the positives.

My brother was recently married (Mazel Tov!), it was a small ceremony and my brother invited three people. Our mother, me, and my ex-partner. You best believe that for those four days, my ex insisted that he get some time to himself because he didn’t want the whole time to be about the couple. I tried to explain that we were 2/3 of my brother’s side of the wedding and should spend as much time helping out as possible, but he wouldn’t hear it. Instead, he got drunk at the bachelor party and offended a bunch of the guests, then went shopping for 12 hours the next day, spending $1000 on pants and another $2000 on other clothes for himself and some friends he met up with. He didn’t respond to any of my messages or calls that day and was late for the dinner we were expected to be at. He bragged to everyone about the money he spent on two pairs of pants that day. Both were high-end designer pants that he could not wear for every-day or for work at the sawmill. He still hasn’t worn the pants because they are too expensive. It is a running joke among my brother’s coworkers that when anything or anyone does something ridiculous or outrageous, that they yell “1000-dollar pants!?” He almost didn’t come to the wedding because he really did not want to spend any time around my mother, he did not want to have to help out with the wedding and he wanted to stay in a fancy hotel the entire time. Of course, knowing how he is perpetually late to every event, no matter the importance, we made sure to be staying with the family of the bride and had him help my brother get ready the morning of the wedding to ensure he would be on time. He threw so many fits before the wedding, that I told him he didn’t have to come, which of course was an insult to him because he could not stand to lose face with my family.

Now, with reading all of this thus far, there may be some confusion on how this constitutes as emotional abuse. To some, I am simply complaining about some unpleasant occurrences, but these weighed heavily on me. Considering my partner new of my history with abuse and my mental health diagnoses, each time he dumped a task on me, or said an unkind word; it was an extra weight added to whatever I was already carrying around. I had attempted early on to open up to him about positive and negative things. He quickly shut me down with all of it, saying I was too intense or extreme, and that I made him uncomfortable. He would tell me I came to him at the wrong time or phrased it incorrectly; then he felt justified to discount and ignore me. I quickly learned to stop opening up to him and bringing things to his attention, because he wouldn’t listen. If I said you aren’t listening to me, he’d turn it into an issue about something else. Usually to whatever triggered the initial upset, such as him not doing a task I asked of him. A major complaint of his about me was that I wasn’t open enough, but I couldn’t open up to someone who was constantly telling me to close myself off with his literal words and actions. Anytime I broke down into tears, which is often because I cry at commercials and when I’m happy, he would make a noise of disgust or scoff at me and distance himself as much as possible. He hated tears. He viewed them as manipulative and fake. When I cry, I want to be acknowledged and held until I feel better. He’d always tell me to get over it, or say I was overreacting because there is no valid reason for me to be crying. That man was as emotionally constipated as he was literally constipated. How he treated me was abusive, because he knew what he was doing hurt me. He knew how to upset me and would do it until I reached a breaking point and then would gaslight me into believing I was at fault, or that there was no issue at all. He managed to convince me to go to four different counsellors, as well as take a mindfulness course, a resilience course, and an anger management course. I also started seeking therapy for my trauma. Not surprisingly, these professionals all came to the same conclusion, that while I had my own issues, most of what I was coming to them with was abuse from my partner. Even my doctor, would hold my hand while I cried and tell me I was living through new trauma on top of my old trauma. She prescribed me medication and give me resources; but I stayed because I thought we could make it work.

The way our day-to-day looked, we’d both work full-time, but I came home first. As soon as I got home, I started dinner and chores because he expected dinner as soon as he got home. How did I know he expected it? Well because he would come home and ask where it was and why wasn’t it ready yet and then demand to know how I was wasting my time since I got home. His idea of dinner was a multi-course meal, just like his momma used to make him! So of course, I could never just make something small and simple. Ordering in or going out was also not an option unless he approved it in advance. It was his job to wash the dishes after dinner, but only the ones he agreed to wash. Meaning, plates and cutlery were my job to put in the dishwasher, dinner prep dishes were mine to wash, but the serving dishes were his. He’d often leave them until just before bed, or for the next day, so they were good and dry and hard to wash. That would somehow be my fault too, so I had to rinse the dishes for him in advance. He would always walk into a room and point out all of the issues with it and then walk away and expect me to clean it. In the four years we lived together, he swept the floor five times, mopped twice, never vacuumed, and occasionally cleaned a toilet. His idea was that the house should always be ready for an open house, and we should spot clean as much as possible to cut down on actually cleaning. What he meant by this was to keep things tidy and presentable, but that I would be the one who had to do all the cleaning. He didn’t view a filthy floor as an issue, so long as no one could see the filth. He used to pull out his hair in clumps and drop it on the carpet and chew his nails and throw them on the floor behind the couch. That wasn’t a problem for him, because no one could see the hair in the thick carpet, and no one could see behind the couch. Every summer, we would have ants and flies that swarmed the front room and kitchen. The landlord never dealt with the issue and my ex didn’t view the bugs as an issue unless you could see them. When they made the dishwasher their home, that wasn’t a problem because we could close the door. I begged him to talk to the landlord, because he always dismissed my complaints as a whiny woman. He responded well to my partner, but my ex didn’t want to be one of those tenants who always had a complaint. Anytime I failed an expectation of his, he would tell me how much of a disappointment I was to him. If I wanted to do something that he didn’t agree with, he would tell me he would be disappointed in me. Thus isolating me further to ensure I did not upset him. If I were to go through with it, I would receive a lecture and punishment. In order to teach me a lesson, he would shame me for failing him and then withhold affection or become petty and spiteful. We had once had an activity in school about walking in someone’s shoes to learn about their life. He somehow perverted that lesson on privilege and compassion to mean, he would do something awful to me to show me how I made him feel when I upset him. Towards the end of our relationship, he quit telling me that he loved me and stopped with all compliments and even touching me. He didn’t tell me he was going to do this, he just stopped one day. We were already living in a pandemic where we couldn’t see others or have contact with anyone, but that wasn’t his reasoning for it. He just felt that it would be easier for me to break up with him if I wasn’t receiving any affection from him. He was tired of being nice to me because he felt I had let myself go recently. He expected me to put in more of an effort with my makeup and worked out more, since I had insisted on cutting my hair off against his wishes. When I first told him I wanted to cut his hair, he let me know I would be less attractive to him. As I continued to make plans to cut my hair, he started telling me that society would view me as ugly and masculine. He was very much against my haircut ideas and did not approve of it once I did it anyway. He expected me to start putting more effort elsewhere to make up for cutting my hair. When I didn’t, he told me that my “physique was lacking” and that I was no longer attractive to him. We had an argument about him being shallow and cruel for withholding affection from me, it ended in him ripping the countertop off of our kitchen island. He grabbed me and shook me, while screaming in my face that he “couldn’t do this anymore”. The next day he came home with some lumber to fix the island and I made plans to leave him. He once called me an “obese bitch” during an argument. I tried to record him because he would always deny ever insulting me later on, and he caught me and stole my phone. His argument was that in the summers, I don’t do very much except watch TV inside. I didn’t have any friends yet and easily get heat and sunstroke, so I spent a lot of time indoors with the fans on. He likened me to a morbidly obese welfare woman who spends all her time bitching at everyone and watching her picture shows.

I will leave you with one final instance of abuse from him. We had been driving home from one of our rare trips up north together. As always, when we were confined in a vehicle together, we got into an argument. He was upset that I had mentioned to others while we were up there that I had done the majority of the driving, he thought it unfair for me to say because it made people think that I did more in the relationship than him. Thus he was driving when he brought up how unappreciative I am about all he does for me and us. I pointed out how much literal and emotional labour I did for us, and how much I sacrificed to be with him. I phrased it, not as a competition, but more to point out that we shouldn’t be having a tit for tat relationship. He swore that I had sacrificed nothing for him. So I reminded him that I moved away from my family, quit my job, gave up my plans to teach with friends in Alberta, and that I spent all of my time with him and for him. His was response was that he had sacrificed too. So I asked him what he had sacrificed to be with me. His answer? He quit sleeping with other people. Upon that announcement, a bird flew into the car. This is significant, because he viewed robins to be a symbol for his late Nana. He decided the bird must have been a robin, and that meant that his Nana did not approve of our relationship. He started yelling about how she would have hated me and how I caused her symbol to kill itself to prove to him that we weren’t meant to be together. Furious and insulted, I made him pull over and I got out of the car to call my mother to drive the three hours to come and get be from the side of the highway. There was no way I was going to put up with him any longer. Of course, I did. I loved him, I wanted it to work. I was also in no position to leave. I had no money for so long, I had no one I could go to when I was down there. With no resources and no support system, coupled with the gaslighting and abuse, it was nigh on impossible for me to leave. He wore me down until I felt like I was nothing and that no one except him would ever want me. Except he was always telling me he didn’t want me either. One of our last conversations was about how if he had higher self-esteem, he would leave me.

I cried the day I left, and the next day. But I haven’t cried since. It has been seven months since then, and I have only grown happier with each day that I am away from him. He recently attempted to contact me, stating he wanted us “to make amends”, as he only had “positive vibes” for me and our conversation. I told him to “suck a dick and fuck off” (pardon my French). He did not like this and responded with confusion about how I could possibly be mad at him, as I had betrayed him when I left. He thought maybe his social media presence had offended me (what?!), so I told him how everything about him offended me and then I blocked him. I am a Queen, and I do not ever need that toxic person in my life.

Today would have marked five years together if I hadn't left. I'm spending it with all of my dearest friends, and some new friends, and going new car shopping. (RIP Jean François) I almost, almost didn't leave last year. I had decided that if he could truly show me he loved me, that if he could turn his behaviour around, then I would stay. So I pulled out all the stops for our four year anniversary. Complete with his favourite meal for dinner, his fondest childhood snacks made from scratch, and gifts that I handmade especially for him.

He gave me nothing, barely even an acknowledgement that it was our anniversary. He made it so easy to finally and truly realise what I meant to him after four years. To his credit though, he did attempt to be intimate with me after a month of zero attention. I didn't realise this of course, because he initiated it by jumping on the bed and barking at me. Confused, I asked him what he was doing and he then started "wagging his tail" which was him just shaking his butt at me. I asked again what he was doing, so he then rolled onto his back and whined at me to give him a belly rub. Frustrated, I asked him what he wanted one last time. He then snapped at me, shouting that obviously he was trying to engage in sex with me and I was clearly too dense or stubborn to understand that. Then he huffed away and that was the end of any intimacy between us.

I'm obviously better off now.