When I was a teenager, the craze was a film called Love Story and the theme tune opened with the lyrics,
“To tell the story of how great a love can be …”
At the time, we were all hypnotized by this story of “perfect love” in spite of the painful reality most of us were facing in our homes. My own mother’s anguish over the men in her life after she divorced my father, was seemingly not powerful enough to open my eyes to the “Hollywood lie”.
It has taken me nearly forty years to untangle myself from the web of denial I started to weave around romance, from that time on.
In retrospect, it would seem that the film even influenced my choice in men! And by that, I don’t mean as far as looks are concerned only.
Love Story is a film about a young woman’s first love experience, played by actress Ali McGraw. Adding fuel to fire were my friends telling me that I looked just like her. The leading man was Ryan O’Neill and true to Hollywood, theirs was an idyllic love that lasted literally “till death do us part”. She died a bloodless, graceful death – completely unlike the several near-deaths I faced at the hands of my own “great loves”. Uncanny, actually frightening, to read some years later that Ryan O’Neill himself, was apparently a wife-beater!
That same film coined the infamous p hrase,
“Love means never having to say you’re sorry.”
I’m sure the script writer had reason to be so profoundly sentimental. I, on the other hand, had been caught up in two violently abusive marriages with men who are *pathologically narcissistic and I was very confused about the issue of forgiveness. These men would upsurge an ordinary argument into a full blown brawl. And although I would feel sorry, even guilty, for my part in the fight, I refused to apologize for fear that it would be construed as condoning their behavior.
As for the two men – the one would apologize after the beating and the other not.
How confusing is that! Which would be closer to the way of love? In fleeting moments of sanity, I knew that neither of these relationships bore resemblance to the true nature of love.
* Diary of a Narcissist , Model of Abuse
However, insanity was the order of my day in the years gone by, and I would repeatedly fool myself that if I could only do enough, tolerate enough and love him enough, it would all pan out and we will live happily ever after. Just like the movies.
Let me tell you my own Love Story – one that may inspire you to take the courage to change the things you can, when you can.
My first love
He was a talented musician, good looking and charming. A ladies’ man. I was twenty-two years old, very naive and immediately smitten. I was convinced that he was my knight in shinning armor, in spite of the fact that the relationship had dire problems right from the very start. He was extremely jealous of me, and very controlling. I simply chose to interpret that as, “he must love me” and I married him. Yes, I was pregnant.
Unbeknownst to me at the time, he was recently divorced. These days I know that people who hurt from the aftermath of a divorce often seek out a new partner to “fix the damage”. An impossible task of course, and the result was that I felt insecure and somehow “not enough” from the very beginning. I always thought that I was the lucky one to have found a man like him. Never quite worthy of his attention or affection. It never occurred to me that it might have been the other way round. After all, I had married my dream man - tall, good looking, funny, intelligent and charming, just like Ryan O’Neill in Love Story. My absolute idol.
Yet, somehow his behavior towards me caused me continuous, excruciating emotional pain. At the time, I believed this feeling was love!
Soon I became financially dependent on him and made him the father of another beautiful girl. Our marriage became fraught with violence, emotional abuse and infidelity.
I became terrified of him, certain that one day he would actually kill me. For the sake of my two daughters and my own sanity, I knew I had to be strategic. I started a job, in spite of the certainty that this would threaten him and have grim consequences.
I started to pray in earnest for a way out of this hell hole.
Liberation came in the form of another woman. I was replaced. Did I leap for joy? Of course not. I spent many years recovering from the break-up with a man whom I loathed for the pain and humiliation he had caused me. Crazy, I know, but any other women who have walked the walk of an abusive relationship as I did, will understand this paradox.
In utter despair of this “rejection” by him, my childhood disorder of anorexia turned into full- blown bulimia. I did not realize it at the time, but I was embarking on a course of self destructive behavior. I moved to a small coastal town and there my despair turned into seething anger. In an attempt to “avenge” my situation, I seduced the town’s playboy. My intention was to make a man fall in love with me and then reject him, the way I was rejected. However, I fell pregnant and from this episode another beautiful girl was born to me. Like the typical Rebel without a cause, I met and married a very gentle and dear man, but divorced him a few years later, because I felt he was too weak for me.
Somewhere in this mish mash of reaction to the inexplicable pain that I experienced daily, I became a committed, spirit-filled Christian. This path lead me to relative peace and acceptance.
Finally I thought my healing was complete and I would never make the same mistakes again.
Twelve years later.
I met him on a blind date. I was completely bold over. I have never met anyone in all my life who made such a dramatic impact on me - not even my first husband. He was charming and so attractive. Yes, I did see the Red Flag. My instinctive reaction was, “run, and keep on running as fast as your beating heart will take you, he’s far too good looking and charismatic …. you’ve been there, done that, and got the T shirt.” But it was too late. I was already powerless over his charm. I think they call it chemistry!
There is a saying that goes : First time victim, second time volunteer.
I agreed to meet him at his office for a cup of coffee. When I’m nervous I get “verbal diarrhoea” and, not giving him much time to talk, I left his office as quickly as I could. Less than a kilometer down the road, he phoned me in my car and asked me to meet him for dinner. I accepted. Or shall I say, I volunteered. I simply could not resist him, infact we were sexually intimate on that very first date. I didn't think that I would ever find myself in that situation, and I felt very ashamed.
It was the most passionate relationship I have ever experienced, and there were moments that I deceived myself to believe that I was truly in love for the very first time. I think they call it denial! The abuse started almost immediately.
The Red Flags of warning fluttered in my face right from the start:
He had recently been divorced. It was too soon and he was too keen to get seriously involved with me, he asked me to marry him within 3 months of meeting me, to “hook” me. As before, I was flattered, in stead of concerned. At the same time, I intuitively knew he was not truly committed to the relationship.
I was infatuated with him. There was that familiar feeling of urgency, availing myself every minute of the day, just for in case he should phone and ask me out at the last minute. I absolutely craved his attention and would drop anything, even my children’s needs, to get it.
Although he was caught out lying as well as cheating with other women, I was willing to believe the excuses, or rather, the lies, he said he was confused.
The jealousy. In my first marriage I was falsely accused of having affairs, this time, the jealousy was focused on the father of my children. I was prohibited from mentioning his name!
The “humorous” comments that put me down and made me feel not good enough. For instance, when we started dating he commented that I was “geographically unsuited”, knowing full well that I was aware that the woman he dated before me, lived just down the road from him.
He would degrade me in front of others, or be rude to my friends if it suits him and I would let him get away with it. He could be equally as charming and I chose to ignore this chameleon-like behavior.
There were early warning signs of the forthcoming violence. For instance, he would grab and push me up against the wall and scream abuse at me in a fit of anger. Never quite hitting me in those early days before the marriage. Yet, I was streetwise to this “show of brutal force” and elected to overlook it.
He manipulated and encouraged me to give up my job and undermined my employers by phoning or paging me continually. Eventually I made the fatal error of giving up my financial independence. Very soon after that, I gave up the dreams I had for myself.
He angered easily. For instance, one day when I visited his offices, he screamed at his secretary and belittled her in front of every one present. I secretly comforted her in the ladies room, as if I were partly responsible for this bad behavior.
He played the blaming game. His anger outbursts, rudeness and abusive behavior was always someone else’s fault or due to some stress situation he was dealing with.
He was vindictive. I witnessed him stealing “his” lounge suite from his ex-wife’s home. I knew my time would come to get a taste of that same vindictiveness, but I decided to deal with it “later”.
I knew that we fundamentally had different value systems. I would fool myself that he was changing, but deep inside I knew that the divide would only get bigger.
I compromised my values to appease him. For instance, I allowed him to give me a French kiss in front of my daughter and when she protested, we had a huge fight, screaming at each other in front of her.
I was scared to express myself, to make my own needs known. In stead, I found myself sulking and stonewalling him, sometimes even being spiteful.
I had a gut feeling that this is not okay, but I suppressed it. In stead, I rationalized and reasoned that I am “trading” my time for his emotional input. To be more truthful, my gut was screaming at me to get out, but I masterfully managed to shut it up! I already needed him like a drug.
I was plagued with the feeling of being trapped, that I couldn’t get away. I felt powerless.
I’m not sure which of the above is the greater sin or lesser evil, but at the time I chose to ignore them all with equal ease. The reason why? Well, until my experience with this relationship, I had always taken pride in the fact that I was not addicted to any substance. I was to prove myself wrong. This man became my proverbial “drug of choice”.
At this stage, I had been a practicing Christian for 15 years, but my commitment seemed to fade into the background. I was hooked. An addict with a new priority. And I was dedicated and totally addicted to it.
During the marriage, we took three of the children to Disney World. I remember watching them take roller coaster rides, up to thirty rides a day! They were simply not able to get enough of the highs that had them screaming with pleasure and the lows that left them wondering why the hell they would keep doing this. I thought they were crazy. Yet, I was doing the same thing in my relationship with my husband and I found the rush as intoxicating as they did.
I became his burden and he became mine.
The roller coaster ride became progressively more turbulent in its extremes. I went from trips to the most exotic locations in the world, to being locked up in the local prison cell for provoking his intense displeasure. His wealth afforded me the luxury of designer clothes, a facial on the most exclusive passenger liner, as well as the best medical treatment for my nervous breakdowns. Of the “high’s” I have no photo’s left, because he destroyed my photo albums, all 12 of them, when we finally separated for good. But the “lows” can be witnessed here.
I just couldn’t understand the nature of the beast anymore. I had been beaten up many times. I had broken bones, blue eyes, split lips, grazed flesh, many “visits” to the hospital, to the lawyers, to the police station, isolation, retreating to my art studio and treatment for depression - and still I would go back for more.
I started to drink as heavily as he did, even though I knew and feared the results of our alcohol induced fights. I also started to talk to people about the abuse in our relationship, taking solace in their affirmation that I am okay and that he’s the “sick one”. I became so needy for his love and approval that I took to desperate measures to have him take notice of my demise. I made an “official” appeal to a member of an elitist organization that he belonged to, in the hope that they would exert influence over him and so doing, restrain his abuse of me.
The time had come for me to get a grip on my life, but in doing so, I knew I would lose him. Mad as it might sound, I was not yet ready for this.
In stead of leaving him, I did the next best thing: I took that all- important decision to follow my own heart’s desires, regardless of the outcome.
At the age of forty-seven, I picked up a paint brush for the first time and started to express myself on canvas. I also took a two year course in *Graphology which was a long-standing interest of mine. It took me three years to qualify due to the stressand trauma I was experiencing. I am eternally grateful to my tutors. Without them I would have given up - not only on my studies but possibly on my life!!!!! You both know who you are….THANK YOU!
Unbeknown to me at the time, this subtle step of deciding to use my God-given talents and follow my passions, bolstered my self esteem over the following couple of years, to the extend that I became ready to face him and his team of attorneys, shamelessly and fearlessly. As it turned out, this new-found self esteem also provided me with the stamina I required to stay the course of a difficult divorce where I had to assert my rights to the very end.
* Grafex.co.za
Click here to view my artworks.
There is immense power in a deeply held intention and personal choice, such as the one I made, and I have first hand experience of this.
I did not have to “do” anything else to bring this marriage to an end. In due course, I was “retrenched”. I was ten years older than my husband and all through the marriage he treated me as if I was his employee, and he my boss. With the children all out of school, my services were no longer required. For a second time I was replaced by a younger woman. I was free to go. Time for young blood to take my place. (Pun intended.)
18 months later …
I am alive and well and living in the tranquility of my own home, decorated exactly the way it tickles my fancy. I paint, I shop, I spend time with my beloved grand daughter. All of this, did not happen over night. My obsession with the relationship continued after our separation. For a while, I raged a war via e-mail with the “new woman” and anyone else from his quarters who would care to listen!
However, there are some things I did “right”. I’d like to share these with you:
- After several failed attempts and by the Grace of God, I found a therapist who inspired me with confidence. She specializes in trauma, which was exactly what was required to deal with the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder I suffered from years of physical abuse. She assisted me through the difficult time of getting divorced and was willing to go beyond the call of duty at times when I was in emotional crisis. She managed to focus my attention almost completely on the process of my own inner healing, rather than the ensuing chaos “out there”. There is no doubt in my mind that no-one should attempt to break away from an abusive relationship without effective professional support.
- Through this therapeutic guidance, I became willing to take full responsibility for my emotional and mental state. I started doing research on *co-dependency, which is the term for the underlying condition of a person like myself, who is attracted to abusive relationships. I also research Narcissistic Personality Disorder, which is relevant to my situation. The point is, in doing this research, I gained objective insight into my situation. This was necessary in order for me to take my power back from the man into whose hands I have commended it.
* Characteristics of Co-dependency.
- I gathered courage and made the decision to stand up for my rights in the divorce and, most importantly, to let myself be heard. I was not going to be palmed off easily or “shoe-shoed away”. I started to express my side of the story and feelings to the attorneys on both sides - at first a bit hysterically, but I persevered and it became easier. I was not going to accept any abuse whatsoever, anymore.
- Through hell and high water, I stood my ground and secured a fair divorce settlement. The result? I have the finances to take care of my needs and desires.
- I feel good about myself and I make sure that it shows in the way I present myself to the world. Most importantly, I did not come through the divorce looking and feeling like a victim.
- I committed myself to continual personal growth. To this end, I have become brutally honest with myself and about my life. We are as sick as our deepest secrets. It’s never the details of the secret that makes us sick, but the act of hiding the shame related to the secret that causes emotional and mental disorders. This so-called suppression also robs you of vital energy.
- I see myself in the grand process of emotional healing and I accept that patience is the key for success in this arena. I understand the process of emotional healing to be like a slide show – I see one slide at a time, over a period of time and eventually I will see the whole movie! On the “bad days”, I do my best to remember this.
Click here for images of my Journals.
What it’s like right now
There is still a part of me that wants my ex-husband to feel that he has screwed up for not appreciating and loving me when he “had me”. My forgiveness is complete and I am becoming less and less willing, one day at a time, to carry around pain in response to his actions.
Admittedly, I still have moments where I absolutely crave the madness of my old life. And, every now and then, when I am in the company of other women whom I know to be in abusive relationships, I yearn for that ability to simply slip back into denial. They remind me of the way I would complain about my husband and then go home to him, as if nothing was the matter.
Almost daily, I am confronted with the fact that freedom has it’s own price. I sometimes resent that and hanker after the comfort zone of total dependency. Furthermore, I can assure you that I am still as confused as ever about this thing, called love ….
All said and done, recently a poem from my childhood spontaneously popped into my head. It goes like this:
Happiness is like a butterfly
When pursued it’s always just beyond your reach
But as you sit down quietly
It will enlight upon your shoulder.
It was in recalling this poem that it dawned on me – my God, I am happy!
Last Thoughts:
If I were asked to give what I consider the single most useful bit of advice for humanity, it would be this: Expect trouble as an inevitable part of life, and when it comes, hold your head up high, look it squarely in the eye and say, “I will be bigger than you. You cannot defeat me.” Then repeat to yourself the most comforting of all words, “This too will pass”. Maintaining self-respect in the face of devastating experiences is of prime importance. Ann Landers
To contact Caryl or to discuss your own experiences please visit our group on  .
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