At the end of 2012, five years into a long-term relationship, an event occurred that threatened my life, my physical well-being, and my ability to care for my son. In a drunken rage my partner, the man who at one time dazzled me and swept me off my feet, pushed me from a moving golf cart.
After weeks of hospitalization, surviving internal bleeding and other complications I returned home, wheelchair bound for 3 months. The incident went unreported. In the moments that I lay on the ground a few feet from the cart that night, his hateful unapproving gaze made it clear that telling the truth was not an option. I would be responsible for destroying his life if I uttered a word. Where would that leave me? And my son? He had been chipping away at me for so long, and I truly believed I had no choice but to endure.
My pelvis had been fractured in three places, but it was my spirit that was completely shattered.
Though no one in my life knew the truth, I lived each day in humiliation, knowing that what I endorsed in this man through my lack of action laid the groundwork for an even more hellacious future for us. This had been the punctuation to years of gaslighting, emotional, financial and verbal abuse. I needed to regain my strength both physically and emotionally before moving forward. This proved to be challenging as the hits kept coming. I floundered back and forth between feeling like I could fix this person with my love, to knowing I needed to do what was right for my son and I.
Don’t judge a book by its cover
When we met in 2007 he was the most charismatic man I had ever seen. Dressed to the nines and always armed with a worldly story that would impress the most traveled person in any room, he was animated and confident. We met while working together in a bustling New Orleans hotel during the busy holiday and Mardi Gras season where his strong work ethic and ability to inspire his team captured my attention. Having just been separated from my husband and the father of my son I did not seek to find a relationship. But, the magnetism of this man enveloped me, and my previous experience left me impressed by a man who could work so hard and be so impressive in all outward facets. He pursued me, called me and sent me gifts, all while I resisted the intrigue that crept into my belly – until almost by accident we ended up at a dinner table together surrounded by colleagues. I watched him command the table, educate the server, and own the dining room as though it were his own. The opening act of this drama would be the last time my spirit would shine for several years.
From the outside we lived a fairy tale. Now that I am free many people have told me they saw the dark side of my partner, but had they said so then I would have worked hard to convince them otherwise. Our image was shiny – vacations and good wine. Happy dogs and nice suits. Fancy cars and sparkly watches. Things are not always what they seem.
Ignoring Red Flags
Within a year of beginning our relationship I relocated my son and I to be with this man. He abruptly left his lucrative and rewarding role in hotel leadership to become a managing partner in a steakhouse and wanted me to be close. The circumstances around his resignation were a bit suspicious in retrospect. When I approached my trusted leaders about my own resignation they tried to warn me. I sat on the couch of my General Manager’s office. I remember the soft lighting and gray furniture well – as I had helped with the renovation process not long before that. He urged me to rethink my decision to follow the man. He challenged me to think of whether I actually knew this person. All of my trusted advisers gave me the same warnings, yet somehow I was in too deep to listen. I was compelled by something less rational to make the life changing decision to leave and start over with someone I ultimately did not know.
Under His Control
The warnings I received began to echo as time went on and this man began to reveal himself. The control began with a last-minute decision for us not to co-habitate, but he instead arranged for my son and I to live in a condo above his restaurant. From here he monitored my comings and goings and expected me to be prepared with pre-shift lunch and late night dinners. As time went on there were not-so-subtle suggestions as to what I should wear and what I should (and shouldn’t) eat. Criticism about my body, chipped nail polish, the type of wine I purchased, or the type of sunglasses I wore continued regularly. He began to engage me into his top notch “image management” plan, molding every aspect of my life from the cleanser I used on my face to the car I drove. Even his own actions, infidelities that continued for years, resulted in an assigned action plan for me. He had convinced me he could be faithful if I were more: playful, exotic, thin, adventurous, exciting, social… In the next 8 years we would move to three more cities together and things progressed.
Somehow I went from being a confident, independent woman on the verge of a life in which I controlled my destiny, to a meek and simple woman serving a purpose I did not define. His indiscretions were my shortcomings. I had to work harder, try harder, be better.
Feeling Crazy & Making Excuses
Alcohol was often fuel to the fire. In the food and beverage industry it’s a common issue, and because of that I made allowances for his behavior. Sharp words, disappearing, a push and a shove… those weren’t the magnetic gentleman I fell in love with – it was alcohol and stress. A dutiful partner would do everything she could to ease that stress, right? Years went by and my loyalty had not earned any mutual respect from this man. My questions and concern were returned with defense and manipulation. I began to turn the questions on myself. With so many things being thrown back at me I felt like I was losing my mind. I could not add things up – including where our money was going. Often I referred to my family history of Alzheimer’s disease – thinking that I actually might be facing a neurological deficit because everything I thought to be true, things I saw and heard with my own eyes, were apparently not. I was paranoid, forgetful. I was told to stop running my mouth. It was impossible to know how this mental game would affect me in the long term. I felt I was an intelligent and assertive woman in full control of my own mind – except where he was concerned.
What breaks heals stronger
Over the period of three years following “the golf cart incident” I was finally able to reintroduce myself to the truth. I rebuilt the pieces of my memory that he had begun to destroy and made one final proclamation not to accept his behavior any longer. This was the end and he wasted no time reassuring me he would not change. Within 24 hours of my proclamation he and emptied our bank account and all but disappeared. I was ill prepared for the “administrative” fallout he had worked so hard over the years convincing me that he was not the evil person he had shown himself to be. Despite being broke, without my own car and unsure of where I would be living – this was the greatest gift I could have ever received: the opportunity to live a free and happy life.
I am not the same person I was 10 years ago — some of the naïveté I always loved about myself is gone, but replaced with a hopeful optimism. I learned a lot about myself and in many ways I am stronger now than I have ever been because:
- I now recognize and acknowledge that protecting myself also protects my child. It’s been said many ways, but children know, see, and hear more than we realize. If we are not safe, healthy and happy as mothers, our children will suffer.
- I forgive those who hurt me and myself. Releasing the burden of anger and regret has been one of the most important and healing parts of my process. I don’t have time to beat myself up about all of my mistakes when I simply need to use their lessons to be a better mother NOW.
- My gut, intuition, and signs from the Universe are real. I now listen to them and give them the credit they deserve.
- Rather than making excuses and seeking convenient answers, I seek the truth and SPEAK my truth. In different phases of my situation I sought out information. Sometimes it was a story about how relationships survived abuse and turmoil like mine. Those were rare. Ultimately it was blogs like this one– real stories of other people who survived WITHOUT their relationship and became better people, that inspired me. Without another person’s actions to excuse and hide I had no reason not to speak my truth in hopes to benefit at least one more person going through the same thing.
If any part of this very personal story rings true for you I urge you to seek support from family, friends, or a counselor. Organizations such as the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence, or the local Shelter House can help provide you with tools and resources to guide you through your own process.
There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind. -CS Lewis
