I Never Thought of Myself as the “Victim Type”
One of the reasons I never saw the abuse
“Would you say your husband was abusive?” My therapist looks at me intensely. I am startled. Why does he keep coming back to my husband? I am here to talk about my recent ex — the narcissist who abused me financially, emotionally and verbally. I came here to heal from the trauma that I seem to be stuck in since I began to grasp the realities of who he was.
“No no, I wouldn’t say so”, I reply, “I mean he was neglecting, not very emotional, but he wasn’t anything like my ex. He might have been lazy, but he was kind at heart, he would never control me or take advantage of me”.
He looks at his notes again and then tries another angle: “How far along are you reading your book about abusive men? Did you get to the part where he describes the different types of abusive personalities yet?”
I swallow hard as the tears gather in the corner of my eyes when I realise what he is trying to tell me: I swapped one type of abuse for another.
I wasn’t just out of a relatively short-lived toxic relationship. I had spent most of my adult life in abusive relationships. But it was until experiencing the incredible hurt of the last relationship and only with the help of a counsellor, that I was able to gain an understanding of what abuse looks like.
You should have seen me 15 years ago
I was strong and confident, intelligent and sexy; I was fun, independent, ambitious and optimistic. I was thick-skinned and never scared of anything. I believed in the positive in every situation, and every day I was excited to be alive. I had many great friends and found it easy to connect with people and see their positive traits. I was a good judge of character, I could see through people when actions didn’t meet words. I was someone who was open to different viewpoints and understood people’s different perspectives.
I was the girl that every boy wished was their girlfriend, but I picked the nice guys any day over the vain ones. I was the girl with only male friends, every girl hated me for being so close to the boys and connecting with them on a level they never could. I was the girl who got who she wanted and if it didn’t work out, it wasn’t meant to be. I was the girl who stood up for herself and others and didn’t tolerate bullshit where other’s would have remained silent. I was the girl that knew she would never struggle to get a man that truly loved her.
You should have seen me 5 months ago
I was anxious and angry, hurt and depressed; I was overweight and shattered to pieces. I was scared of being alone for a night. I believed there was nothing positive, every day was a struggle just to get dressed. I had no friends and thought I was surrounded by horrible people. I questioned my judge of character, words were my truth and actions that didn’t match I refused to accept. I was sensitive to different viewpoints, and the only perspective that mattered was that of one guy.
I was the woman who thought she would never find someone so amazing and perfectly matched to her again. I was the woman every other woman would hug and look in pity “I am so sorry you have to go through this”. I was the woman who begged with all her might, spent every day crying and writing letters over letters to be given a chance. I was the woman serial-dating only to feel shattered again that no guy could live up to the perfect man she had lost. I was the woman desperately trying to stay calm and not challenge him ever. I was the woman blaming herself for ruining her chance to be with the only man who ever truly loved her.
Oh girl, how did you become this woman?
Let me be clear: I would never suggest victims of abuse are in any way to blame for what they have endured nor would I suggest there is actually a victim-type. I had seen the abusive boyfriends my mum had when I was younger, I had been disgusted by the way they treated her. Then I had almost been disappointed by the way she had let them treat her.
I had tried to persuade her to leave so many times and never understood why she didn’t….
What did she see in this horrible guy? Why didn’t she understand that she could do so much better? Why did she let him trample over her again and again?
I had felt sorry for how desperate she had been — maybe one of the reasons I was so determined to be so different. I had friends with abusive exes and listened to their experiences in awe, shaken my head over the extent of their abusive behaviours. But these were their stories, not mine, I would never tolerate something like this, right?
Oh boy, did I tolerate. Tolerate. Minimise. Defend. Excuse. Most of the time, I refused to see. There were times where I wished he would hit me, so I could put a label on it, but mostly I just beat myself up for the horrible person I was who couldn’t live up to being the woman of his dreams.
You should see me today
I am that woman with many female friends, who takes true friendship over a romantic fling any day. I am still a long way from being the woman I used to be, but becoming her again is not the goal.
I am the woman who will be so much stronger, healthier, happier and a whole lot wiser. I am the woman who recognises that abuse can come in many forms and anyone can be a victim.
