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Location: Huntersville/Charlotte, NC and Washington, DC
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Quote:
Originally Posted by shelato
For people who have been in abusive relationships, how long into the relationship did it take you to figure out something was wrong with the person you were dating and what were the things you should have been on the look out for. What made you realize, I might have a problem here? Second how predictable was the abuse, ie did it occur just when he or she was drunk or mental health episodes or was there no rhyme or reason to it? Lastly was this person initially charming or what initially drew you into a relationship that made you initially decide this was a good person to date? Was their any type of grooming involved?
Lastly did anything anyone else said or did, was it actually helpful to you when you felt trapped in the relationship?
Im going to state up front that this is through not my own eyes but as an observer to a very close friend’s abusive relationship, so clearly the only details I have are what she has told me and what I have witnessed.
I came into knowledge of the state of abuse in the relationship on a night out with her, her bf, and another mutual friend. We get to a club after a pregame. He starts to act a little boisterous which I charged to the pregame drinking. Then my friend and her bf get into an argument and all of us step outside the club and the argument just gets uglier. He starts to get more aggressive and I physically step in between him and my friend to keep the peace. We ended up leaving a short time later in two Ubers, the mutual friend and myself in one, my friend and her bf in another. In retrospect that was not a good pairing at the time because we saw them right around the corner from my friends building and he was tearing into her and it looked bad. The mutual friend actually tells me that this was not an isolated episode and other ugly scenes she witnessed.
A few weeks passed and the relationship ends, and only then she told me about times he hit her, usually accompanied by liquor of some sort. She felt very ashamed to have to say that and I know she’d never share this publicly outside very selective friends.
The dude was very charming and a nice man with status and pull in the DC area. But please believe the minute his lips touched liquor, he was a different person. He was an expert groomer and gaslighter. My friend was also a very statused person in the public eye and a furiously independent woman. I’d think her type would be the least vulnerable to an abusive situation like this but I was sadly mistaken.
This should be a cautionary tale that anyone can get got by the manipulation of a knowledgeable abuser. Abuse is not a poor peoples or undereducated persons problem.
Im going to state up front that this is through not my own eyes but as an observer to a very close friend’s abusive relationship, so clearly the only details I have are what she has told me and what I have witnessed.
I came into knowledge of the state of abuse in the relationship on a night out with her, her bf, and another mutual friend. We get to a club after a pregame. He starts to act a little boisterous which I charged to the pregame drinking. Then my friend and her bf get into an argument and all of us step outside the club and the argument just gets uglier. He starts to get more aggressive and I physically step in between him and my friend to keep the peace. We ended up leaving a short time later in two Ubers, the mutual friend and myself in one, my friend and her bf in another. In retrospect that was not a good pairing at the time because we saw them right around the corner from my friends building and he was tearing into her and it looked bad. The mutual friend actually tells me that this was not an isolated episode and other ugly scenes she witnessed.
A few weeks passed and the relationship ends, and only then she told me about times he hit her, usually accompanied by liquor of some sort. She felt very ashamed to have to say that and I know she’d never share this publicly outside very selective friends.
The dude was very charming and a nice man with status and pull in the DC area. But please believe the minute his lips touched liquor, he was a different person. He was an expert groomer and gaslighter. My friend was also a very statused person in the public eye and a furiously independent woman. I’d think her type would be the least vulnerable to an abusive situation like this but I was sadly mistaken.
This should be a cautionary tale that anyone can get got by the manipulation of a knowledgeable abuser. Abuse is not a poor peoples or undereducated persons problem.
Definitely not! Though I would say that poverty can be a kind of "force multiplier" in making it hard to escape, sometimes.
Not only the basic reality of feeling that you depend on resources or money that an abuser provides, to survive... But also the fact that when you are both dirt poor and in an abusive relationship, you might not feel like you are worthy enough to do any better and that the devil you know is better than the devil you don't. Being poor in my young adulthood made me feel like I was starting off life with the status of "trash" and I did not deserve better in a partner until I'd found my way and achieved some success. Especially after I had the kids, then it was like, "who will want me? I have two kids and I don't make enough to support us...no man will sign on for that, unless maybe he's worse than the one I've already got. Better just hang in there and try to manage this situation as best I can..."
In college I met the man I would eventually marry. He decided he wanted to go to Los Angeles, land of his birth, so we bought an old station wagon. But before we left, we got hitched.
Things were fine. We found an apartment in Los Feliz, he got a job at KTLA. The only flaw was that he insisted I couldn't get a job. He was low on the seniority list at KTLA and if I was working when he had time off, we'd never be able to go anywhere. Made sense at the time except that he was also extremely stingy with money. We did not have a joint checking account. I had no money at all and there was no chance of getting any from my we-don-t-give-a-crap-about-you parents, so he ruled the financial roost.
He started having problems at work. There were rules that producers and assistants had to follow when they were in the control room and studios but nobody enforced those rules because producers were their bread and butter. But he kept butting heads with these people even as the higher-ups told him to cool it.
On particularly frustrating days he would come home and hit me. Worse, there were times when he would sit cross-legged on the floor and pull his big wicked hunting knife out of its sheath. He'd say, "Do you love me? Do you?" A simple Yes wasn't enough. Meanwhile I was mentally measuring the distance from where he sat to the front door. Could I make it? Or would he slash my throat before I got out?
It took me two years to figure out how to escape him. (Remember, no money!) The first thing I did was get a job. And I told him. Weirdly, he seemed okay with that. I found a furnished place I could move to and put down a deposit. Then I waited for him to go to work that night.
I had the bare minimum of clothing in a garment bag and my cat in a carrier. That was it. And the stalking began.
He somehow found out where I lived and showed up, banging on the front door. I called the police. They persuaded him to leave.
The next incident a few weeks later was when he accosted me in front of my workplace. Told me he would kill me if I didn't go back to him.
Then he begged me to meet him at a sub shop. By this time I'd acquired a car, which changed everything. I didn't get out of the car. He pounded on the window, hoping to break it. Then he tried to stop me by standing in front of my car. Big mistake.
It was just like a scene out of a movie. I gunned the engine and he jumped out of the way. It felt so good. So empowering.
But incredibly, it wasn't over yet. He called the police and told them that his wife had left him (true) and he intended to commit suicide (false). They called me and asked me to talk to him in person. I took a co-worker with me. I wasn't dumb enough to go alone. There were two cops there and they urged me to give him another chance. I turned around without saying a word and left.
For people who have been in abusive relationships, how long into the relationship did it take you to figure out something was wrong with the person you were dating and what were the things you should have been on the look out for. What made you realize, I might have a problem here? Second how predictable was the abuse, ie did it occur just when he or she was drunk or mental health episodes or was there no rhyme or reason to it? Lastly was this person initially charming or what initially drew you into a relationship that made you initially decide this was a good person to date? Was their any type of grooming involved?
Lastly did anything anyone else said or did, was it actually helpful to you when you felt trapped in the relationship?
My abusive ex- was a funny, happy-go-lucky guy when we dated, and remained that way until our wedding night. I never had a clue, until he punched me in the face as I was coming out of our ensuite of our honeymoon suite. (I had begged him to leave the reception at 1:30 AM, exhausted from the festivities, and he did with only the mildest show of disappointment.) As I was sprawled on the floor of the bathroom he leaned over me with a red face and told me in a steely voice to "never tell him what to do again, especially when he was having a good time. Shocked, I acquiesced.
After moving into our home, I dedicated myself to being a "good wife." I cooked homemade meals, right down to rolling out and hand-cutting pasta, simmering tomatoes into marinara sauce, cooking fresh veggies, etc. One special Sunday dinner, I worked all morning to put out an elaborate three course meal. I called him to the table from watching some sporting event on TV. He sat down, took a sip of milk I'd just poured directly from the frig. He looked at the meal, glanced at me and told me the milk was too warm to drink and walked back to watch his game.
I spoke to my mom. She told me "You made your bed," and changed the subject.
One day weeks I got out of the shower, dried off and left the bathroom to dress. He went in behind me, and told me to "Get in here!" I returned to the bathroom to find him standing in front of the shower with my shampoo in his hand, red faced. "What is this?" he screamed at me. By that time I was getting a bit numb toward these episodes and answered with a smirk "My shampoo." (It was a bit funny to see such a ridiculous show of rage over my shampoo.) The next thing I knew he threw down the shampoo, grabbed me by my upper arms, and slammed the back of my head against the wall with each word. "Don't waste my money on your shampoo, use MINE."
That was in the first six months. I learned avoidance. In public, he was the same guy I fell in love with. Fortunately, he liked to entertain, so we were not often alone together at home. It helped that he worked 3rd shift most week nights, and weekends he partied so much that he often passed out. When we were with others, he was like the man I'd fallen for before our wedding.
About 18 months after our wedding, I woke from a nightmare one night in which I had taken an axe to his head, in bed. I woke with a start and sat up. It was so real, I was afraid to look at him. Carefully, I reached over and touched the back of his neck. He was breathing, sleeping. No blood.
I laid back and stared at the ceiling until sunlight started coming through the crack between the bedroom curtains. I got up, and got ready for work. I worked on main street in our small farming community in SW Michigan. Across the street from my job, I saw a "For Rent" sign in the window of the furniture store window. I enquired during my lunch hour. That night, when a friend of ours was over to have a beer and enjoy our back yard looking over the river, while my ex went in to use the bathroom, I told him my plans and asked if he would help me move. He was a concrete worker, and though about my ex's height, he had about four times his muscles. He agreed. I couldn't take my dog, so he took him for me, so nothing could happen to her.
I escaped him, but for a couple of months after I had his sisters and mother come to where I worked and taunt me for being a ***** and using him. I worked in a public place, but my boss and coworkers were protective of me. The guy that helped me still went to visit with my ex, and advised him to put a stop to that or he would have to "get involved."
There was a few weeks when my ex tried to get me to come back, but I shied away from him, and soon after he moved another, younger woman in with him. I was free.
Other than our friend Jack, I told no one other than my mom. I was embarrassed and ashamed that I was such an awful wife that he had to do these things to keep me in line. I married him at 19, I finally left him and the state about four months before my 21st birthday. It wasn't until I took a community college class in Psychology that I learned that I was not to be blamed, and my ex was a very, very sick man.
That was when I started my journey to learn about the things women do to accomodate toxic people, and how to see life differently so I didn't enable another over my own interests. I learned boundaries.
Oh...I forgot...there was another guy. One time there was this guy I was dating...I pinched his cheek once...not an aggressive angry thing...not a hurtful thing...more like a love pat, but he grabbed my hand, and bent my fingers back to the point of pain, and told me to never do that again. He did it in front of my boys.
That was it. Relationship over.
Nyaaa… a lady learns that unwanted physical contact works both ways. Adorable
I think abusers often have an "antsy-ness" about them, and a short temper that they may try to hide.
I was with a guy who had a smile pasted on his face, but sometimes when I would say something or react in a way he probably didn't agree with his ears would get red and sometimes it would extend to his neck, and there was tension there. He was holding it in. He would throw little things like pencils or keys when he got frustrated, not at me, but these types of behaviors are red flags for anger issues which is a big risk factor for abusiveness. Even the nerdy antsy way about him made me a little uncomfortable, running to open doors and trying to be the shining knight, but there's this excess energy which is sometimes expressed as charm, humor, love bombing that can turn into something sinister. It's like they are trying hard all the time, always on in some way - not really totally relaxed.
My friend experienced the same type of thing with her ex but she stayed with him and he lost the composure and became controlling and abusive to her.
I don't think I would ever accept physical abuse from anyone.
To be honest, I was surprized this happened to you because I just didn't think you would put up with it either. So it was interesting to hear your story. Thanks for sharing!
Quote:
Originally Posted by SnazzyB
When I was in my 20's, I dated a guy for about 3 months. He was VERY handsome...movie star handsome, and at first, seemed like a pretty normal and nice guy.
Then I found out he drank a lot. It was a red flag, but I rationalized it as "Well, we're young. We drink. Not a big deal. But it was a big deal. He stood me for a date once...didn't hear from him at all, until about 10 or 11 oclock that night, when he showed up outside my bedroom window, drunk, begging me to come outside and talk to him. I fell asleep, after circular arguing with him, to the sound of him begging me to talk to him. Another time, he showed up drunk to my place, and fell asleep on my couch.
Then we were on a date, and at this bar, having fun. He suddenly decides we need to go...like RIGHT NOW. We were both inebriated...should not be driving. Plus, we (he) was driving my car. I didn't want to leave yet, because we were drunk. This made him mad, and he grabbed my arm and we left. And he drove my car like a maniac. He intended to drive us back to his place, but before that, he stopped at a liquor store to buy more whatever.
I said something like "You're going to buy MORE beer?!? You're already drunk!" He raised his hand to me and was going to back-hand me. He thought better of it, but I was shocked. I said "You were going to HIT me? You almost back handed me?? He told me to shut up, and got out of the car, bought a 6 pack, and we went back to his place.
I was pretty scared. I sat on the couch, he went in his room, stripped down to his underwear, came into the living room, sat next to me, put his head in my lap, and passed out.
When he passed out, I slowly and carefully got up, looked around in his room for my keys, found my keys, and I left. I was happy to make it home alive. That was the last time I ever saw him.
He called me the next day to apologize. I told him I appreciated the apology, but we were never going to see each other anymore. We were done. I actually was pretty nice in my tone...but firm. Nope...we're done. I told him he needed help, but I was not the one to give it. And that was it.
When he was not drinking was he ever violent or threatening?
Quote:
Originally Posted by SnazzyB
Oh...I forgot...there was another guy. One time there was this guy I was dating...I pinched his cheek once...not an aggressive angry thing...not a hurtful thing...more like a love pat, but he grabbed my hand, and bent my fingers back to the point of pain, and told me to never do that again. He did it in front of my boys.
That was it. Relationship over.
I get that.
Quote:
Originally Posted by fluffythewondercat
In college I met the man I would eventually marry. He decided he wanted to go to Los Angeles, land of his birth, so we bought an old station wagon. But before we left, we got hitched.
Things were fine. We found an apartment in Los Feliz, he got a job at KTLA. The only flaw was that he insisted I couldn't get a job. He was low on the seniority list at KTLA and if I was working when he had time off, we'd never be able to go anywhere. Made sense at the time except that he was also extremely stingy with money. We did not have a joint checking account. I had no money at all and there was no chance of getting any from my we-don-t-give-a-crap-about-you parents, so he ruled the financial roost.
He started having problems at work. There were rules that producers and assistants had to follow when they were in the control room and studios but nobody enforced those rules because producers were their bread and butter. But he kept butting heads with these people even as the higher-ups told him to cool it.
On particularly frustrating days he would come home and hit me. Worse, there were times when he would sit cross-legged on the floor and pull his big wicked hunting knife out of its sheath. He'd say, "Do you love me? Do you?" A simple Yes wasn't enough. Meanwhile I was mentally measuring the distance from where he sat to the front door. Could I make it? Or would he slash my throat before I got out?
It took me two years to figure out how to escape him. (Remember, no money!) The first thing I did was get a job. And I told him. Weirdly, he seemed okay with that. I found a furnished place I could move to and put down a deposit. Then I waited for him to go to work that night.
I had the bare minimum of clothing in a garment bag and my cat in a carrier. That was it. And the stalking began.
He somehow found out where I lived and showed up, banging on the front door. I called the police. They persuaded him to leave.
The next incident a few weeks later was when he accosted me in front of my workplace. Told me he would kill me if I didn't go back to him.
Then he begged me to meet him at a sub shop. By this time I'd acquired a car, which changed everything. I didn't get out of the car. He pounded on the window, hoping to break it. Then he tried to stop me by standing in front of my car. Big mistake.
It was just like a scene out of a movie. I gunned the engine and he jumped out of the way. It felt so good. So empowering.
But incredibly, it wasn't over yet. He called the police and told them that his wife had left him (true) and he intended to commit suicide (false). They called me and asked me to talk to him in person. I took a co-worker with me. I wasn't dumb enough to go alone. There were two cops there and they urged me to give him another chance. I turned around without saying a word and left.
That is an awful story. This also helps unpack a lot of women are real weary of men who are real controlling. Thank you for sharing.
If he were a feral animal, then sure his violent reaction would be understandable.
Did you miss the part whefe she said she pinched gently ? Did yiu miss the part where he bent her fingers backward to the point of pain?
As a grown man especially, he can use words to comunicate that he does not like that .
Yep, That's like putting the kid's hand on a hot stove because he touched the knob. A bit of an overreaction to the kid's doing something unwanted.
Besides, a lot of guys would love to have a girl give them a little love pinch. Not sure how anyone would assume it would cause a problem or be unwanted physical contact.
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