The Toxic First Boyfriend. A Mother's Thoughts.

Waiting on the sidelines and being there to catch the tears

A milestone in a young woman’s life is the first boyfriend. It can also be a seismic event in her Mother’s. The innocent teenager changes into a woman who has gone through a rite of passage. She has gone from the untouched club into the non-virgin club with all that entails. But one difference remains. Mother has given birth and the Daughter has not yet crossed that threshold. Mother prays she doesn’t. Not by this Sire.

As is usually the way things start off reasonably enough. Out and about, the first flush of love. They say that for the first three months in a relationship both parties are on their very best behaviour. Indeed it would seem true, but little by little the facade starts to slip and the truism’s come out. The belittling words, the attempted culling of a previous close group of girlfriends. The always wanting to know where she is. The location tracker on her phone. Slowly, slowly the tentacles of control grow ever tighter. But by this time, even without any threat of violence a lot of damage has been done. She is dependent on him for her happiness. An eighteen-year-old head doesn’t yet realise that true happiness comes from within. A fifty-two year old head does.

In her eighteen-year-old mind HE is her happiness. But he is not making her happy. The belittling comments, the dislike of her friends, the attempts at isolation. All of this is beginning to take it’s toll. The once lively eyes and ready smile are not as often to be seen. She clings on to the sinking ship, delighting of the brief moments of happiness but not quite realising that the ship is keeling, and starboard side it’s going down rapidly. She hangs desperately onto the brief moments of happiness like a life jacket. Things will change. Things will get better.

Mother knows they won’t. A malicious Ram will always remain. A malicious Ram.

Mother starts hearing from friends of the Daughter. Long-standing friends who have been with her for a long time. These friends know he is toxic, but they also know, as does Mother, that she is not ready to break the cycle yet.

A gentleman in a terrible marriage said to me once that he knew the marriage was over. He was living a dreadful life but he was “not mentally ready to leave”. A day did come. A day when he was mentally ready to leave and so he left and moved on with his life.

The Grandmother of the Daughter stuck it out for perhaps rather too long in her first marriage. There was violence aplenty with a broken nose thrown in for good measure but due to it being the 1950s and with two small children in tow women tended to stick it out to the bitter end. And a bitter end did come in the shape of a much younger, well rather a too-young woman who became pregnant. Grandmother ended up delivering the baby, all the while knowing what had gone on. Still, she stayed under appalling circumstances. The final straw was the appearance of a second baby. Grandmother walked, taking two small children and a few shillings with her.

She survived.

And some years later met my Father.

My Mother taught me well. She told me what to look for and what should raise alarm bells. And those bells are ringing in my head.

And what of the Daughter. She is the product of me and I am the product of her Grandmother. There will come a day when she is “mentally ready to leave” and walk out that door. And I will be holding it open for her and waiting with open arms.

But until then I remain watching and being vigilant and having faith that her Grandmother’s strong spirit has passed down to her.

In time it will.