I ESCAPED A VICIOUS 2 YEAR CYCLE OF FEAR,
DOUBT, & HURT - AND YOU CAN, TOO
Warning, this post may contain triggers.
You’d think a reasonably intelligent woman like me would have known when to call it quits — when a betrayal of trust becomes a monthly discovery over the course of a two year relationship. The sad reality is that even the strongest people find themselves chipped away at with each blow, and with each piece of yourself that is broken you find yourself weaker and increasingly difficult to do what is right for you.
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On Tuesday night I finally found the courage to break out of a vicious cycle of doubt, fear, and hurt of 2 years. My now ex-boyfriend (who you know as the photographer for my portraits on this blog and also co-founder of my boutique Regimental Vintage) has been cheating on me since we've been together, with up to 10 females at a time. Each and every time I confronted him about it - with evidence in the form of photos, texts, and even anonymous tips later corroborated by solid proof - he goes ballistic about me finding out, claiming an invasion of his privacy (because that’s the real issue there…) then tells me loves me and swears that he'll never do it again.
Yet the cheating persisted — from November 2014 as of as recently as last weekend — with me finding out on an almost monthly basis. Between each time I find out, I’m a nervous wreck, frequently asking him: “Are you cheating on me?” only to be dismissed as paranoid and jealous. But of course paranoia only applies when the thing you fear or dread is just a figment of your imagination, not the reality.
Yet, despite the persistent abuse of my trust I kept accepting his apologies for two reasons:
One: I’m far from a saint. As a direct result of the constant betrayal of my trust (or what I presume to be based on his pattern of behaviour) I’ve lowered myself with petty acts of vindictiveness that went too far. I once told a lie and cruelly withheld the truth even after it pushed my ex dangerously over the edge, if only because I had underestimated the impact of the lie and had to commit to it because I was too afraid to tell the truth even though it was the least I could do. I've dragged innocent people into my spats, accusing them wrongIy of involvement and then lying about it until found out. I even have, I’m ashamed to say, resorted to emotional blackmail - threatening to commit suicide if he left me. The frightening thing is how incredibly out of character those acts are — anyone who knows me well will attest that when it comes to being nasty, I’m all thought and no action (unless said action is an angry Beyonce karaoke session). And yet, despite the things I've done, whether or not they were a form of retaliation, my ex forgave me - and so I thought I should also forgive him each and every time I found him cheating on me.
Two: I’m proud. Too proud, arrogant even, to talk to my friends and family about my feelings. My best friend Michiekins, who I’ve known for 15 years and with whom no topic is taboo, had no inkling whatsoever about what I was going through until yesterday morning when I broke down and told her everything I’ve endured over the past two years. The only time I bring up my personal problems is after I’ve solved them or am in the process of fixing them. I’m terrific at giving sage advice but absolutely terrible at following it. I’m the first person to try and help someone, but I don’t know how to help myself. I don’t like to burden others with my problems because I think that my feelings are a nuisance. When really, I should be taking my own advice - “You are not weak for feeling less than perfect. To feel is to be human.”
Unfortunately, my refusal to divulge the horrible anxiety I felt throughout the relationship meant that I distanced myself from my friends and ceased contact with them altogether, fearing that speaking to them or even being in their presence would infect them with the sickness that was eating away at my insides. It didn’t help that my ex had claimed that my friends are classist snobs who at best sneer at him for not being good enough for me and at worst allegedly outright threaten him. So I avoided seeing most of my friends altogether for nearly two years, hoping to both keep him away from their “bad treatment” of him, and also so that they wouldn’t sense the shameful secrets I’d been living with. This isolation I chose bound me ever closer to my ex as he became my only confidant, which is probably why I accepted his behaviour for so long — I had no-one to tell me that ‘you need to get out, now’.
The relationship wasn’t all sturm un drang. We had great experiences and wonderful adventures together. He helped me take my blog further in ways I’d never thought of and was incredibly supportive of my creative endeavours from Day 1. His family, friends, and himself tell me that I was the best thing to happen to him, that I brought him out of a dark place and showered him with sunshine. I truly believe that he loved me, and I did love him. Which was what made the constant lies and betrayal all the more difficult to accept — if someone who loved me so much could do these things to me, perhaps I was the problem. Maybe I didn’t deserve fidelity and loyalty - after all I also capable of casual cruelty and I am in no ways perfect. Maybe I should accept being cheated on for the rest of my life in exchange for the love he gave me. And I believed that for the longest time, thinking that the cheating was just part of a parcel - that ‘no relationship is perfect’. It took me a whole 2 years to accept that I deserve nothing less than a man who, despite all my imperfections, is loyal to me — after all, almost all of my previous boyfriends did the same (despite my ex insisting that they probably cheated but I never found out) so why should I should make an exception for one person? Love does not dishonour others.
On Tuesday evening I decided that despite the intense love we had for each other regardless of both our great flaws, I could no longer live with his consistent, compulsive infidelity. I confronted him about his most recent indiscretions and like most times I’ve tried to talk about his transgressions, rather than address the issue he reacted by trying to distract me with shouting and hysterics. I don’t want to go into great detail about what he actually did, but I will say that the situation escalated into what a police officer called ‘domestic violence’. I must clarify, any violence that occurred was not directed at me. He has never, in the two years we have been together, laid a hand on me. Sure, it was terrifying for my flatmate to watch, she was in tears and pleaded with me to call the police - but I think what is actually disturbing was how calm I was acting throughout the entire ordeal, having familiarised with his behaviour by the many times he’s reacted that way.
It took the efforts of both myself and my flatmate to have him leave my apartment after half an hour of him oscillating between wanting to leave and then changing his mind when I opened the door for him to go. But it took 5 (or was it 4?) police officers to have him removed from my building. I must applaud the constable present as I gave my statement —my flatmate noticed he kept wanting to interject as I recounted my experience. He spoke to me on a personal level, that in his 25 years on the job he has dealt with numerous cases like mine and that he recognised the pattern of being trapped by self-doubt and fear (the worst of the cases had ended with murder). He went on to advice me, not as a man of the law but person to person, that whatever my decision he thinks that I would do well to end this harmful relationship. The constable said that what I was enduring was abuse, full stop — even if I didn’t have any physical scars for it.
So after the police officers escorted my ex out of my building and to a safe place of his choice, I hoped that that was the end of it. But yesterday morning, at 6am, he returned to try to talk. I refused to let him into my home or come downstairs to speak to him, so he rang my doorbell and we spoke through the intercom. The speech was the same as the dozens before: that he loved me, he realised how he had wronged me, how he would promise that this would be the last ever time etc. Yet even as he was telling me how much he loves me and wanted to be perfect for me, he said he has been in love with someone else (who he has cheated on me with before) and if I wouldn’t take him back he would go straight to her. After all, in his words, he needed somewhere to stay, he had no money, and he’s always gotten by on his charms with women. Strangely, hearing that was actually a relief because it confirmed that I'm doing the right thing to cut him out of my life. And because I no longer have to feel responsible about providing for him financially. Yes, I did sometimes support him financially - at least paying for the phone bill that he uses to cheat on me with. Some people have accused him of being a gold-digger but to be honest, I don’t think that was the case. My ex has always said that he is uncomfortable that I spend so much money on him (although he didn't seem to be that unhappy enjoying the spoils of my extreme generosity) and he has spent well above his means (to the point of being broke) to lavish me with holidays, buy me presents, and keep up with the lifestyle I initially expected from him.
As it stands right now, I couldn’t care less where he ends up as long as he is happy and healthy — whether in the bosom of another generous female who will enable the lavish lifestyle he’s enjoyed while with me, or whether he does an Eat, Pray, Love journey of soul-searching. In his defence, in many ways he was the perfect boyfriend - he was very giving, endlessly supportive, incredibly forgiving, and extremely lovely. It is just that for all the many wonderful ways he treated me, it was the infidelity that I could no longer live with. Perhaps that makes me the weak one who couldn't find the patience to stand by him while he tried to address those issues. But as I've said, it was chipping away at me for years and now I have nothing left to give - I feel like a hollow shell who's run out of love and I have to be on my own to recover what I've lost.
Not all abuse leaves physical scars. Mental and/or emotional abuse is just as damaging as being strangled, choked, and beaten. Take it from me, for 2 years I’ve felt like I’ve been eaten from the inside by a cancer that I’ve finally braved treatment for. And God only knows how my ex must've felt from my emotional abuse, which is why I've had to make the executive decision to stay away from him - he brings out the best in me, but unfortunately also a dark, dangerous side that frightens me. If you think you may be the victim of abuse, don’t let yourself feel or be isolated. Don’t believe that the way you feel or are treated is your fault. I urge you to please, please talk to your friends and family. Should you feel that cultural barriers, or in my case dumb pride prevents you from doing so, speak to professionals - anonymously if you have to. Organisations like Women’s Aid and Men’s Advice Line offer free advice over the phone 24 hours a day, survivors’ support forums, and guidelines to staying safe including how to seek injunctions against unwanted contact.
Believe me, you are NOT ALONE. You are not as worthless as you have been made to feel. There are people (your friends and family) and organisations out there who want to help you live the happy, safe life you deserve.
FINAL THOUGHTS
I won't lie — I'm afraid for the wellbeing and safety of mine and others who may be sucked into the very same situation I've just tried to escape. Which is why I finally found the courage to speak out about what I’ve put myself through - it is my hope that someone who’s in a similar situation will read this and find the strength to take back their life with their hands.
I would like to thank the dozens of people who’ve sent me messages of concern, support, and well wishes. Thank you for reminding me that I’m not worthless and undeserving of respect — you have no idea how your kind words have helped build the confidence I’ve lost over this ordeal. To my friends who I’ve lost contact with, thank you for reaching out and not losing faith in me even as I became increasingly isolated and dropped the friendship ball over the last 2 years.
For myself; I hope courage, determination, and most of all self-love will endure to give me the strength to navigate the very trying months ahead as I try to rebuild my life. I'm not exactly dancing on sunshine but I know I'm on the right path. While the wounds are still fresh and tears still keep coming, I know that in time they will heal and dry. I know that in time I will learn to trust again, and that I will meet the person who will treat me with nothing less than I deserve — respect, honesty, and fidelity.
Have you ever found yourself Breaking (a) Bad relationship?
How did you do it? How did you cope with the aftermath?
Please, feel free to open up and share your story — we all have a voice and it deserves to be heard.