I am not usually one to pay attention to what is trending on social media. Which seems slightly backward considering this blog and the makeup feed. However, today one thing caught my attention, a hashtag.
#maybehedoesn’thityoubut
The replies & posts women and men share depict heinous abuse. Things one would think, ‘man that has to be TV or movie plot.’ What a world we would live in if domestic violence only existed in a performance. Relationships would thrive and people would not be Humpty-Dumpties on brick walls needing put back together again.
Abuse is not unfamiliar to me. I was raised in an abusive environment and have had many unhealthy relationships as a result of that abuse. There were times I wondered if Dad would have become violent enough to kill, fortunately (and most obviously) he didn’t. Although I do occasionally play a what if game, what if I hadn’t moved out so early and had stuck around? What then? Glad I didn’t find out.
My first relationship after graduating high school was kind of a disaster from the beginning. We met online and found out we only live a couple miles apart and I ended moving in with him not too long after that. We had a lot of fun and mostly good times, but we weren’t right for one another. However, I will say despite not being a good match, there wasn’t any abuse. I don’t look back with despondence and heartache, thankfully.
We split right around my twenty first birthday which was October 2009. A tipping point in my life where my plans for me as an adult hardcore derailed. I was in college at one of the best private schools in Iowa. Unfortunately because my wonderful father refused to file tax returns I couldn’t file FAFSA forms to continue getting financial aid and eventually had to drop out.
The interim time between my birthday and dropping out was a major bender. I managed to become friends with people who weren’t students. I began drinking pretty heavily, smoking cigarettes & pot, being promiscuous and just other general crazy behavior. Before you ask about other drugs, the answer is no. I’ve never tried nor had the urge to do anything besides smoke pot. I witnessed too many highs and lows of addict to even entertain such a notion.
Through this group of friends, I met Joe* in January 2010. We had an instant connection. Eventually, we started dating, sort of?
I am always confused to talk about Joe because in public he never addressed me as a girlfriend, despite sharing an apartment and bed. In private though, oh man he would praise me up and down and tell me how much he loved me. Should have realize this one right away, but being young and really dumb I stayed.
The difference between our public life and private life is my first #maybehedidn’thitme until he did. Joe’s major vice was alcohol. When we met he didn’t have a job or a license. Lost both because of DUIs. I guess I was still depressed or something because I drank a lot too when we were together. And the alcohol really made things ugly.
Friday, October 29 2010. One of the worst nights of my life and I nearly lost it.
October 29 is my birthday. My mom and both my sister had come to see me & Joe and took us out to dinner. Mom didn’t have a lot of money telling Joe he could order a drink but had to pay for it himself. Joe became really agitated and more of an asshole than usual. Withdrawals maybe? Dinner wasn’t too bad, I guess. Other than some mildly aggressive fussing from Joe it was fine.
The plan post dinner was to go out for karaoke at the bar down the street from our apartment because what else was I going to do as a sassy, borderline alcoholic going to do on a Friday night? I bought a fiercely sexy costume (Torrid’s Mad Hatter.) Joe hated it. We fought before we even left the apartment! He told me if I wanted him to come out I was going to have to change. I don’t really remember how the battle was won, but he came to the bar with me and I didn’t change.
The night was fairly low key most of the people who had said they were going to show up bailed and the bar itself was pretty slow for Halloween weekend. I was still determined to have fun despite Joe being a dick and sitting on the corner barstool.
I ran around the bar taking pictures and shots with people because yay birthday! I (badly) sang karaoke and was actually enjoying myself. Well some guy who came in with some friends of ours grabbed my attention. We chatted on and off throughout the night. At some point he had his my arm around my waist and was totally looking down my costume at my boobs. Did I care? ABSOLUTELY NOT! Joe had flirted in front of other women, hell even tried to go home with other women while we were together so I was like what hell, why can’t I flirt? So flirt I did.
Joe saw this little cat and mouse game and he didn’t like it because Hot Dude asked if I was available I was like sure am and Joe ran up to use & flipped his shit. He was all like, “What are you doing with my girlfriend?”
All I could do was laugh and say, “I am not your girlfriend.” Hot Dude felt very uncomfortable and went about his business not wanting to get caught up in our spider web, can’t blame him.
Closing time came and I finished the last of my birthday shots and we walked home. One friend that had shown up to the bar came to our apartment because there was supposed to have been an after party, but because basically no one showed there wasn’t much of a party to be had. My friend still came over anyway having made me homemade beer as a birthday present. My friend & Joe started drinking tequila (1800) straight from the bottle. I was too drunk and too tired to continue so I went to bed.
I don’t even know how long I was asleep, but the next thing I remember was waking up gasping for air and an immense pressure around my throat. I opened my eyes and Joe’s hands were around my neck choking me. I became lightheaded, he let go. I started crying and screaming and he grabbed my neck a second time shouting “Who the fuck are you, how did you get in here?” He eventually let go.
I should have immediately left, but I was so drunk I couldn’t drive anywhere and being so drunk didn’t think about calling the cops.
He was so intoxicated he forgot who I was and thought a stranger was in his bed. My friend was so drunk he was passed out on our couch unable to hear the commotion coming from the bedroom.
Every time I recount these memories my heart breaks a little inside for the woman who was unable to recognize what she was getting herself into. I wish I could tell you this was the worse fight we had, but it wasn’t. Unfortunately, I didn’t finally leave him until January 2011. Almost a year to the day we met; ugly & nasty separation.
Prior to his DUIs, Joe had worked for Delta Airlines in some capacity. The exact role eludes me anymore, baggage handler maybe? I only recall he worked outside on the ground. If you aren’t familiar with airline employee work schedules, they can get bounced around from airport to airport–a lot.
Naturally, in the course of his employment Joe befriended many people men & women a like. He kept in touch with some and while we were, whatever we were, suspiciously regained contact with a woman.
She did not live in Iowa and along the way he lead her to believe once again I was the roommate so when she came to visit I was kicked of our bed and she got to sleep with him.
While crying myself to sleep on the couch, I had to listen to them have sex in the bed I spent the last year sleeping in. It was mortifying and humiliating. I rebounded with some dude I met online.
One night while Joe was ill and Miss Delta was not visiting, I left him to go hang out with Mr. Online. I didn’t tell Joe what I was doing or where I was going. I finally felt at that point it was no longer any of his business, despite it not being his business for many months before that.
Somehow…Joe found out. I think I came back to the apartment with a hickie on my neck and noticed. Thinking back, I am surprised he paid that much attention to me. We argued and screamed. He called me a whore and many other rotten things and the violence ensued.
He pushed me down, against the wall my back hitting the thermostat, ripped my clothes and pulled on my hair. The violence led to sex, which I recognize now as sexual assault because I did not provide any kind of consent.
Fortunately, this was the last physical fight he & I had. Miss Delta took him on a trip to meet her family and friends over his birthday and I packed up my stuff and left.
Joe is only one chapter in my story, I wish I could say the chapter after him was my happy ending. If you’ve been paying attention that is not how my life goes.
I had high hopes for 2011 because I finally ditched Joe & Mr. Online and started moving on with my life. Life flipped upside down again when Marissa died and I had to spend a long time healing from that.
Despite being a domestic abuse survivor, I think it is important to recognize when you’ve been toxic to someone else. It has helped me in healing. Sometimes, the toxic traits flare up and relationships become strained. I am as human as anyone else. I try not to blame my shitty actions on past traumas; it still happens–however, I am working on trying to unlearn all the crap.
I was single until 2012. Met two different guys at roughly the same time and picked the wrong one. The one I didn’t pick, I screwed over. I was the toxic one there. He was great and used to think he was the one who got away (that thought changed four years ago 🙂 ).
Instead, I walked down Manipulation Avenue–again. This one never yelled or hit me, but our relationship bobbled up & down and there were a lot of rumors he constantly cheated. Most of our socialization came from friends we had made as a couple mostly because my friends would watch how he treated or spoke to me and ask, “why are you still together?”
We split more than once in the 11 months we were together, at least three if my memory serves me correctly. Maybe more than that? Again I ignored red flags because I was so desperate for love, it was just easier than being alone.
How broken can someone be they would rather put up with conniving behavior than be alone? I was told by my dad if I ever ended up with someone to hang on to them because I was impossible to love. No one would want me. I heard this over and over and over again from the one man who was never supposed to fail me. So I loved (still do) fiercely & immensely because a voice in the back of my head still says…”They don’t really love you.”
After the final split in 2013, I decided no more. While I had my own faults in all of my relationships, my faults & mistakes were absolutely no excuse for abuse, mental or otherwise. I knew I had to learn to love myself if I wanted a healthy relationship, so I set out on a quest to find self love.
Learning to love yourself when you’re broken is one of the most fulfilling things in life, in my opinion. You’re taking wreckage and building something beautiful, worthwhile, and strong. The new self image you build is yours, something you own and nothing anyone else can take credit it for. The ownership is powerful and there is a defining moment where you realize you are worth more in this life than what you survived.
Self love is a magnetic field and it will draw people into your space. You learn on your journey how to filter out the garbage from the good. Tough lessons are learned on the road and it’s hard, so fucking hard. Humans by nature are social creatures, some more social than others (hi introverts 😉 ) and we can crave human interaction. I am not saying you have to be completely isolated on this road of self healing and self love, but you learn comfortability in doing things alone.
I started with simply going out to dinner at a sit down restaurant alone. Then I graduated to other things most people think of as something you do with another person. I shopped, went to the movies, took vacation, found new hobbies and host of other things. What you do is specific to your journey and healing. Start small to avoid feeling discouraged and encouraging the self hate.
Four years ago, my life changed and finally for once–it changed for the better. I met someone. At this point my journey I was completely at peace being alone and had resided to the fact that if I spent the rest of my life alone, it would be alright.
June 1, 2016 I went to a concert in Minneapolis at the now non-existent Mill City Nights (RIP) and saw Lacuna Coil for the very first time. Two summers prior I had seen Linkin Park (my favorite band) for the first time at the Minneapolis State Fair. While in line I made friends with four people: Erynn, his father Todd, Jesse & Bridget.
Erynn, Jesse and Bridget are the humble beginnings of a diverse and loving music-centered family. The LP show is important because Erynn bought me my ticket as a gift to go to the Lacuna Coil show because I couldn’t afford to buy it myself. Little did I know something or rather someone wonderful was waiting for me in that line.
When I arrived at Mill City Nights, there were already several people in line waiting for the show. Among those besides Erynn & Todd was Nick.
Nick and I didn’t really socialize much at the show, though not for a lack of effort on his part. While our now friends were grabbing merch pre-show, he turned around and said, “Hi.” I just kind of smiled nervously, unsure what to say or do because you know, the self love journey.
He added me on Facebook after the show because Erynn had done some really cool thing and wanted to see if I had seen it; everything just escalated from there. August 1, 2016 he asked me to be his girlfriend and then our crazy continent hopping romance adventures began.
I am thankful for every moment I spend with Nick and love he shares with me every day. There are so many people in the world who are not as fortunate as me. Some are still trapped within a world where they confuse violence for love; some are still trapped within a violent relationship with the hope of escape. Others have escaped but have not begun rebuilding or reignited their fire.
Then there are The Lost. The Lost are those taken away from their families and friends as a result of domestic violence. Never given the light of hope or the power of rebuilding. Every day more and more people join The Lost as violence takes their lives. I could have been a Lost One, but I was fortunate enough to have clawed my way out. I think of those unfairly taken and pause for their loved ones.
If you are currently stuck or afraid what might happen, please find help and way out. Hell, reach out to me if you must. No one else needs to become a Lost One. Remember, your partner doesn’t have to hit you for it to be abuse.