I worry a lot.
You probably already know that because you're either in my life and see me worry all the time about a number of things...or you've read my blog enough to know the workings of my crazy mind and that I do worry.
I spend a lot of time worrying about what will kill me.
Don't cross the street until it's absolutely safe to do so
Don't walk too close to the edge of the pavement
Examine food closely - make sure it's okay for eating
Chew properly - I don't want to choke
Being home "before dark" because I'm convinced that's when most burglars/muggers/rapists will be about
...and on and on it goes.
But the things that have almost 'killed' me in my tumultuous past have been the unexpected. And the 'dying' has taken years...it's not been instant...but yes, it's been painful.
Like the time I dated a violent abuser.
Let's call him "Gareth".
What's surprising about dating an abusive man is how very slowly and subtly it all happens. I've heard of a term called "grooming" which is usually linked to sexual assault of young children...where the adult "grooms" the child and sort of prepares them for the assault...but softly. Gently. Carefully.
All words I never thought I'd use when it comes to abuse...but they're there, nonetheless.
For me, it happened when I was 19 years old. (OMG. I'm almost 40 now and look back on 19 year old Janet...I can only sigh and shake my head at how very young and extremely naïve I was back then. I thought I knew it all. I guess we all do at 19).
I was happily ensconced in school, I was getting good grades, enjoying lots of social time with my friends, and I was going to Church about 3 times a week for various activities. Youth Group was my favourite. I think it's because one of my all-time favourite things is having a load of friends - and being around them as much as possible. Youth Group was perfect for this as there were about 20-25 of us and we were all around the same age. The boys were super hot and I think each girl there had something very beautiful about her. Even me :)
We all got along really well and it was so exciting being together and growing and learning together. Some of my happiest days were at youth group.
Like any girl around my age, I had crushes on boys. Mostly crushes on the boys at Youth group. Flirting, teasing, laughing, joking - it was so exciting! I remember getting butterflies in my stomach and goose bumps on my arms whenever a certain boy spoke to me. I remember linking arms with my then best friend, "Cara" and whispering and giggling about the boys we liked most. It was a happy, sweet, innocent time and I loved every moment.
Then "Gareth" and his best friend "Dave" joined the youth group.
In their torn jeans and taut, "manly" bodies, they weren't much older than the rest of us - both of them in their late 20's as I recall, but both of them seemed very worldly - as if they lived gritty, dangerous lives on the streets.
Gareth and Dave were mysterious...and appealing.
Especially to a young girl like me. I'd only encountered "good boys" in my entire life...so these "bad boys" were definitely a novelty.
Gareth was mouthy and bold. He was handsome, I guess. I don't know. I know he was good looking in world standards - but not really my type. He was too...adult? Do you get what I mean? There was something very dark and broody about him that repelled me, but something broken and lost about him that attracted me.
I wanted to 'fix' him...to help him. Does this sound familiar of good girls and bad boys?
Unlike the other boys in my life, Gareth was very up front about what he wanted.
And what he wanted...was me.
I'd never been chased like that before. Usually if a guy liked me, he'd tease me, hide my stuff, hold my items above his head so I had to reach up for them and we'd laugh and gentle jostle each other. I knew the 'rules' to the dating/flirting game and they were always very subtle. Very awkward, shy, and sweet, really.
Gareth was the complete opposite.
"I want you" he'd whisper in my ear - not long after we'd introduced ourselves to each other.
Wait. What?!?
My heart skipped unsteadily. He said he wanted me? What did that even mean?
I remember that first instinct - that first real feeling about Gareth...the very first urgent whisper in my heart, mind, soul and body that said one word over and over again in the first few weeks and months of getting to know this man:
"Careful"
I dismissed it. I was being silly.
Gareth showered me in attention. He complimented me heavily and constantly. He promised me amazing things "I'll take you away and treat you like a princess...you deserve to be treated like royalty". He sewed stories that seemed like incredible fantasies to me. Listening to him was like tasting a new dessert that I was forbidden to eat...delicious, new, un-nerving in many ways...but also tempting.
After a few months, Gareth put the pressure on. Slowly. Gently.
"Hey, I really want you to be my girlfriend. I want to date you. I want you to be mine"
Omg. Did people really speak like this? I remember feeling shocked at how brazen he was.
I hesitated. My heart thumping away in my chest. I felt...frightened and couldn't put my finger on why I did.
I remember when he'd offer to make me "his", the possessiveness struck me as...dangerous.
But I loved the feeling of being wanted.
Being chased.
Especially so openly. This felt exciting.
I said "no" the first few times he asked to be my boyfriend. "No thank you" shyly the next few times...then, because of all the gifts and flowers..."Maybe"...
...and slowly but surely, "maybe" turned into "yes...okay then"
...which would ruin my life in ways I never dreamed possible.
At first, dating Gareth was a lot of fun. He'd pull up at my family's house and talk politely with my parents while I finished getting ready. My parent's first reception of him should have set of alarm bells in me, really. My Dad was uncharacteristically wary. He shook Gareth's hand and frowned at him. "Hmm. Nice to meet you. Janet won't be long"
I could hear Dad muttering away to my Mom in the kitchen as I was applying a few 'last sprays' of perfume in the bathroom.
I heard Mom's little feet pad out to the living room to meet Gareth.
"Hi! Nice to meet you, Mrs D!" I heard him exclaim.
Oh Lord. Here we go.
"Nope!" Mom said. I heard her shuffle back to the kitchen.
Mom!
I remember rolling my eyes at the time. So embarrassing.
I got back from my first date with Gareth and my Mom pulled me aside "I don't like him"
"Mom...you don't like any of my boyfriends"
"Yes yes...but this one...this one, Janet...I really don't like him. Please. Please stay away from him"
Which unfortunately for both of us, made me determined to like him more.
Isn't that always the way?
I learnt a few things in the first few months of dating Gareth: (I'm taking deep breaths as I list these, it's hard to admit these to you)
- You don't have to be attracted to or in love with someone to be turned on by them.
Sure, I'd kissed boys before. I'd had a few boyfriends. They were all really nice and kissing was a lot of fun...but it had never gone beyond that. I guess I've been lucky to date guys who were probably as innocent and sweet as I was. We kissed, it ended at that.
Not so with Gareth. He awakened parts of me that I had no idea about. He was a man of the world, all right. We didn't have sex...but we may as well have with what we did do. I'm ashamed of it but I did whatever Gareth wanted and for the most part...I liked it. It was confusing to like these new things when the person 'teaching me' wasn't someone I was in love with. I liked him, but I wasn't attracted to him. I wasn't in love and I grew up my whole life thinking that sharing my body was going to be something I did only with my husband. It was confusing and surprising to be "turned on" when it was by someone I didn't really like - let alone love.
- Compliments and gifts will work on me
I think after the 3rd date with Gareth, I wanted to break it off with him. I wasn't in love, I was still crushing on boys (and feeling somewhat 'unfaithful' for doing so when I was in a relationship) and he wasn't my last thought at night or my first thought in the morning. I didn't miss him when we were apart and I wasn't excited for seeing him. So it made complete sense to me that we break up and just remain friends. Right?
Not on Gareth's watch.
He doubled the money he spent on me and showered me with gifts, flowers, clothes, compliments and more and more promises of the life he was going to give me.
It was a heady combination and I sold out. I loved it. I stayed with him.
In doing so, I gave Gareth "the upper hand" in the relationship. This was a huge mistake.
The next few months together were a blur. It all went so fast. Gareth took the words "hard and heavy" to new levels and I felt I was drowning in all the attention and affection he gave me.
I didn't see it happening, but Gareth was "grooming" me.
Slowly...very slowly...we spent more and more time alone. I was a very social girl...and slowly I was less and less so.
Gareth planned so many romantic activities and dates that I had no time for anything else.
My studies suffered.
My friendships suffered.
I was constantly fighting with my parents as they hated Gareth (Mom said so! No holding back for her, God bless her) and I felt they were "picking on him" - something he'd planted in my mind at the very beginning.
My weight plummeted. I had lost weight naturally over just being so busy! But when not only Gareth complimented me on "looking sexy", I wanted to keep trim and started making smaller meals for myself - or skipping them altogether.
The next year wore on...and slowly, slowly...gently, gently...these things happened:
- I rarely saw my friends because I was always with Gareth
- He convinced me to move away from home - out of my safety zone.
- Gareth was showing so much rapt attention at who I was and how I came to be this way, that I was telling him things I had never told anyone before. He listened so lovingly and patiently that I told him more and more and more...and once this cycle of telling him everything about myself started...and I was powerless to stop it. In pretending to care and encouraging me to trust him more and more, Gareth was collecting information on me and was building a bond with me that would prove very difficult to break in the months and years ahead.
Grooming.
As the relationship went on, the tables slowly shifted - from me being the one who called the shots to me trusting Gareth entirely with my life, my hopes, my dreams, my all - that's when instead of promises and flattery - he started using fear to control me - and my entire life.
I remember the first time 'the shift' between woo'ing and controlling happened.
Gareth and I were "on a date" at the park, watching the stars. It was very late and I was tired. I asked Gareth to take me home.
He flipped.
"I'm not ready to leave" He said. Evenly. Quietly...but there was a rage and malice behind it that was hard to miss.
I gulped. Why was I suddenly so scared?
"But Gareth...I'm tired. I have Uni tomorrow...I need to -"
And he swung around, put his face close to mine and shouted at me.
"I SAID NO!"
He jangled my car keys in front of my face as I shook with fear.
"See these??? Huh???"
I could only nod. I was so scared.
Gareth lent down and pushed them through a grate in the road.
"There. No one's going anywhere. You hear me?"
His eyes were wide - I could feel his hot breath on my face and I was so scared. He raised his closed fist to my face.
Was he going to hit me?
I shut my eyes and waited for the blow.
It didn't come.
I opened them and I honestly thought I was going mad - because above my face - was Gareth's very kind expression.
"Hey you - are you ok?" He moved to touch my cheek with the palm of his hand.
I was shaking so badly, I thought I'd pass out.
What was happening?
"I uh..."
I had no idea what was going on. I was so confused!
Gareth took my hand firmly in his.
"It's such a nice night for a stroll, don't you think?" he winked playfully at me and his eyes glittered.
It wasn't a happy sparkle. It was...menacing.
I agreed because I was afraid not to.
We walked home together that night. It took hours.
I crawled into bed that night, shaken by what had occurred.
"Don't go back" a voice in my head warned
So the next morning, I woke, resolved - determined - to finally break it off with Gareth.
That's when dozens of red and yellow roses were delivered to my door.
My favourites.
Then came the apology - heartfelt and so earnest and sweet that my resolve all but melted away.
We do all make mistakes, Gareth gently reminded me.
Yes, we could try again. Sure.
That was the first time. It happened hundreds more as the next 3 years dragged by.
Yes. You heard right. THE NEXT THREE YEARS.
After 3 years of dating Gareth, I was an entirely different being.
For one thing, I didn't go to Church any more. Gareth was always getting into heated fights with other guys there and I was defending him all the time...it was exhausting for both of us. (or so I thought) and 'easier' if we just didn't go.
I didn't see my friends anymore. What had started as 'innocent dates/activities' for just Gareth and I...had somehow become Gareth planning my daily events - almost to the hour - and these plans never included time with family or friends.
I dropped out of Uni. Gareth said people with "real jobs" didn't need degrees, anyway.
I had lent Gareth money once - to fix his car when the tires wore out - and again when "payroll had stuffed up" and he was "just waiting until next Thursday to get paid", and paid for a few meals/dates because Gareth "had left his wallet at home - Ugh! Sorry"...and after a year, it seemed - again, "easier" - to just give him all my money every week. So that's what I did...year after year.
I actually came to a point in my life where I was asking Gareth's permission to use/spend my own money! And if he said "no", I'd accept that without question!
I had lost my will. I was an obedient horse, following Gareth around and hoping he'd pay attention to me.
I want to make this clear, he never hit me. He never raised a hand to me.
But I was imprisoned to him just the same.
The shift in balance of power when you're in a relationship with an abusive person is a powerful one. Make no mistake.
I was not chained to Gareth and I could "leave whenever I wanted" the entire 3 years I was with him...but at the same time, I couldn't.
I had identified and strongly bonded with my captor. So much so, that I was convinced (with Gareth's grooming of course) that I couldn't possibly live without him. He made the decisions for both of us, so I couldn't imagine how I would survive "in the world" without Gareth to lead me. I forgot I could lead myself. I forgot I was a powerful young black woman. I forgot..everything that mattered.
We didn't fight. Gareth just dictated and I meekly accepted.
I lost my fire. My vision. My heart. My will. My right to be.
I swore more. A habit I picked up from Gareth. I picked up a lot of his mannerisms, like impatience and anger at the slightest things. I remember pulling a singlet over myself to get dressed in the morning and one of the spaghetti straps broke. It was just a little thing, but I went into a rage over it and threw a lamp with all my might against a wall. I had never been like this before. I was lazy. I didn't care for the house we lived in. I didn't plant flowers or buy decorations. I did the bare minimum (cooking, dishes) to keep the place liveable...but there were cockroaches everywhere. And I didn't care. This was not like me. Not at all.
I also lied constantly. Often to excuse missing an important event with family or friends. I'm as bad at lying as I am at Math...so everyone saw through me and was hurt and disappointed. I lost so many friends in that time because I couldn't stop lying.
There is something about being constantly controlled by someone that changes you. Inside, I found myself agreeing with Gareth - on so many things I wouldn't normally agree with. My mindset had moulded to match his and I found myself thinking and reacting to things in ways that were completely unfounded and horribly surprising to me. I stopped thinking like I used to and starting thinking and behaving like Gareth did.
Like getting irrationally annoyed if a friend coming to visit.
I used to love spending time with my friends.
But after months...and then years...of being alone with Gareth, I grew to hate intrusions.
Someone I loved would knock on our door. Yes, "our door" - because I was now living with Gareth - (and paying all the rent, bills and for food. And not questioning it at all. This seemed completely natural to me) so this 'visit' was an intrusion on our lives together.
"Tap tap" on the door.
My first thought would be that I was exhausted. I didn't want to fight. I didn't want to be the peacemaker between Gareth and whoever this was that was coming to visit. I didn't want to lie anymore. I was tired of making excuses.
And Gareth's grooming over all these years had me convinced that visits from friends or family were unwanted intrusions on our perfect, quiet little life.
I would sigh.
The curtains/blinds were always drawn in 'our house' (another thing I never questioned, even though it was so weird) and together, Gareth and I would just pretend not to be home.
It astounds me to write about this...but I would willingly join in on this stupid farce.
We're not home. Just go away.
It was just easier not to see people. It was so much easier just be at home. With Gareth.
Life with Gareth was very careful. Very regimented, very predictable. For me, anyway. Gareth was "away from home" a lot. "Working". I suspect he was using, selling and buying drugs. We had a few incidences where men would come into our home with weapons and beat the living daylight out of Gareth. Not a word was spoken between them...but an understanding had been reached.
I was so confused.
So much went on that I had no knowledge of.
But what I do know...is that I lost so much of what made me me.
I aged far more than the 3 extra years. I grew bitter, cautious and quiet.
It was a really long, really awful 3 years of my life. There were about 3 instances where I did leave Gareth - determined in that moment to never come back - but the apologies, flowers, gifts, love letters and poems would win me back every time. As would the very strange feeling that "I didn't belong" wherever I 'ran away' to - I felt ill at ease away from Gareth's direction.
Isn't that weird?
Anyway, before this blog post becomes a novel (haha) I just want you to know that I'm so thankful for God's breakthrough in my life and for that one time that I finally got away - and never, ever went back.
I'll write about THAT another time :) xx
You probably already know that because you're either in my life and see me worry all the time about a number of things...or you've read my blog enough to know the workings of my crazy mind and that I do worry.
I spend a lot of time worrying about what will kill me.
Don't cross the street until it's absolutely safe to do so
Don't walk too close to the edge of the pavement
Examine food closely - make sure it's okay for eating
Chew properly - I don't want to choke
Being home "before dark" because I'm convinced that's when most burglars/muggers/rapists will be about
...and on and on it goes.
But the things that have almost 'killed' me in my tumultuous past have been the unexpected. And the 'dying' has taken years...it's not been instant...but yes, it's been painful.
Like the time I dated a violent abuser.
Let's call him "Gareth".
What's surprising about dating an abusive man is how very slowly and subtly it all happens. I've heard of a term called "grooming" which is usually linked to sexual assault of young children...where the adult "grooms" the child and sort of prepares them for the assault...but softly. Gently. Carefully.
All words I never thought I'd use when it comes to abuse...but they're there, nonetheless.
For me, it happened when I was 19 years old. (OMG. I'm almost 40 now and look back on 19 year old Janet...I can only sigh and shake my head at how very young and extremely naïve I was back then. I thought I knew it all. I guess we all do at 19).
I was happily ensconced in school, I was getting good grades, enjoying lots of social time with my friends, and I was going to Church about 3 times a week for various activities. Youth Group was my favourite. I think it's because one of my all-time favourite things is having a load of friends - and being around them as much as possible. Youth Group was perfect for this as there were about 20-25 of us and we were all around the same age. The boys were super hot and I think each girl there had something very beautiful about her. Even me :)
We all got along really well and it was so exciting being together and growing and learning together. Some of my happiest days were at youth group.
Like any girl around my age, I had crushes on boys. Mostly crushes on the boys at Youth group. Flirting, teasing, laughing, joking - it was so exciting! I remember getting butterflies in my stomach and goose bumps on my arms whenever a certain boy spoke to me. I remember linking arms with my then best friend, "Cara" and whispering and giggling about the boys we liked most. It was a happy, sweet, innocent time and I loved every moment.
Then "Gareth" and his best friend "Dave" joined the youth group.
In their torn jeans and taut, "manly" bodies, they weren't much older than the rest of us - both of them in their late 20's as I recall, but both of them seemed very worldly - as if they lived gritty, dangerous lives on the streets.
Gareth and Dave were mysterious...and appealing.
Especially to a young girl like me. I'd only encountered "good boys" in my entire life...so these "bad boys" were definitely a novelty.
Gareth was mouthy and bold. He was handsome, I guess. I don't know. I know he was good looking in world standards - but not really my type. He was too...adult? Do you get what I mean? There was something very dark and broody about him that repelled me, but something broken and lost about him that attracted me.
I wanted to 'fix' him...to help him. Does this sound familiar of good girls and bad boys?
Unlike the other boys in my life, Gareth was very up front about what he wanted.
And what he wanted...was me.
I'd never been chased like that before. Usually if a guy liked me, he'd tease me, hide my stuff, hold my items above his head so I had to reach up for them and we'd laugh and gentle jostle each other. I knew the 'rules' to the dating/flirting game and they were always very subtle. Very awkward, shy, and sweet, really.
Gareth was the complete opposite.
"I want you" he'd whisper in my ear - not long after we'd introduced ourselves to each other.
Wait. What?!?
My heart skipped unsteadily. He said he wanted me? What did that even mean?
I remember that first instinct - that first real feeling about Gareth...the very first urgent whisper in my heart, mind, soul and body that said one word over and over again in the first few weeks and months of getting to know this man:
"Careful"
I dismissed it. I was being silly.
Gareth showered me in attention. He complimented me heavily and constantly. He promised me amazing things "I'll take you away and treat you like a princess...you deserve to be treated like royalty". He sewed stories that seemed like incredible fantasies to me. Listening to him was like tasting a new dessert that I was forbidden to eat...delicious, new, un-nerving in many ways...but also tempting.
After a few months, Gareth put the pressure on. Slowly. Gently.
"Hey, I really want you to be my girlfriend. I want to date you. I want you to be mine"
Omg. Did people really speak like this? I remember feeling shocked at how brazen he was.
I hesitated. My heart thumping away in my chest. I felt...frightened and couldn't put my finger on why I did.
I remember when he'd offer to make me "his", the possessiveness struck me as...dangerous.
But I loved the feeling of being wanted.
Being chased.
Especially so openly. This felt exciting.
I said "no" the first few times he asked to be my boyfriend. "No thank you" shyly the next few times...then, because of all the gifts and flowers..."Maybe"...
...and slowly but surely, "maybe" turned into "yes...okay then"
...which would ruin my life in ways I never dreamed possible.
At first, dating Gareth was a lot of fun. He'd pull up at my family's house and talk politely with my parents while I finished getting ready. My parent's first reception of him should have set of alarm bells in me, really. My Dad was uncharacteristically wary. He shook Gareth's hand and frowned at him. "Hmm. Nice to meet you. Janet won't be long"
I could hear Dad muttering away to my Mom in the kitchen as I was applying a few 'last sprays' of perfume in the bathroom.
I heard Mom's little feet pad out to the living room to meet Gareth.
"Hi! Nice to meet you, Mrs D!" I heard him exclaim.
Oh Lord. Here we go.
"Nope!" Mom said. I heard her shuffle back to the kitchen.
Mom!
I remember rolling my eyes at the time. So embarrassing.
I got back from my first date with Gareth and my Mom pulled me aside "I don't like him"
"Mom...you don't like any of my boyfriends"
"Yes yes...but this one...this one, Janet...I really don't like him. Please. Please stay away from him"
Which unfortunately for both of us, made me determined to like him more.
Isn't that always the way?
I learnt a few things in the first few months of dating Gareth: (I'm taking deep breaths as I list these, it's hard to admit these to you)
- You don't have to be attracted to or in love with someone to be turned on by them.
Sure, I'd kissed boys before. I'd had a few boyfriends. They were all really nice and kissing was a lot of fun...but it had never gone beyond that. I guess I've been lucky to date guys who were probably as innocent and sweet as I was. We kissed, it ended at that.
Not so with Gareth. He awakened parts of me that I had no idea about. He was a man of the world, all right. We didn't have sex...but we may as well have with what we did do. I'm ashamed of it but I did whatever Gareth wanted and for the most part...I liked it. It was confusing to like these new things when the person 'teaching me' wasn't someone I was in love with. I liked him, but I wasn't attracted to him. I wasn't in love and I grew up my whole life thinking that sharing my body was going to be something I did only with my husband. It was confusing and surprising to be "turned on" when it was by someone I didn't really like - let alone love.
- Compliments and gifts will work on me
I think after the 3rd date with Gareth, I wanted to break it off with him. I wasn't in love, I was still crushing on boys (and feeling somewhat 'unfaithful' for doing so when I was in a relationship) and he wasn't my last thought at night or my first thought in the morning. I didn't miss him when we were apart and I wasn't excited for seeing him. So it made complete sense to me that we break up and just remain friends. Right?
Not on Gareth's watch.
He doubled the money he spent on me and showered me with gifts, flowers, clothes, compliments and more and more promises of the life he was going to give me.
It was a heady combination and I sold out. I loved it. I stayed with him.
In doing so, I gave Gareth "the upper hand" in the relationship. This was a huge mistake.
The next few months together were a blur. It all went so fast. Gareth took the words "hard and heavy" to new levels and I felt I was drowning in all the attention and affection he gave me.
I didn't see it happening, but Gareth was "grooming" me.
Slowly...very slowly...we spent more and more time alone. I was a very social girl...and slowly I was less and less so.
Gareth planned so many romantic activities and dates that I had no time for anything else.
My studies suffered.
My friendships suffered.
I was constantly fighting with my parents as they hated Gareth (Mom said so! No holding back for her, God bless her) and I felt they were "picking on him" - something he'd planted in my mind at the very beginning.
My weight plummeted. I had lost weight naturally over just being so busy! But when not only Gareth complimented me on "looking sexy", I wanted to keep trim and started making smaller meals for myself - or skipping them altogether.
The next year wore on...and slowly, slowly...gently, gently...these things happened:
- I rarely saw my friends because I was always with Gareth
- He convinced me to move away from home - out of my safety zone.
- Gareth was showing so much rapt attention at who I was and how I came to be this way, that I was telling him things I had never told anyone before. He listened so lovingly and patiently that I told him more and more and more...and once this cycle of telling him everything about myself started...and I was powerless to stop it. In pretending to care and encouraging me to trust him more and more, Gareth was collecting information on me and was building a bond with me that would prove very difficult to break in the months and years ahead.
Grooming.
As the relationship went on, the tables slowly shifted - from me being the one who called the shots to me trusting Gareth entirely with my life, my hopes, my dreams, my all - that's when instead of promises and flattery - he started using fear to control me - and my entire life.
I remember the first time 'the shift' between woo'ing and controlling happened.
Gareth and I were "on a date" at the park, watching the stars. It was very late and I was tired. I asked Gareth to take me home.
He flipped.
"I'm not ready to leave" He said. Evenly. Quietly...but there was a rage and malice behind it that was hard to miss.
I gulped. Why was I suddenly so scared?
"But Gareth...I'm tired. I have Uni tomorrow...I need to -"
And he swung around, put his face close to mine and shouted at me.
"I SAID NO!"
He jangled my car keys in front of my face as I shook with fear.
"See these??? Huh???"
I could only nod. I was so scared.
Gareth lent down and pushed them through a grate in the road.
"There. No one's going anywhere. You hear me?"
His eyes were wide - I could feel his hot breath on my face and I was so scared. He raised his closed fist to my face.
Was he going to hit me?
I shut my eyes and waited for the blow.
It didn't come.
I opened them and I honestly thought I was going mad - because above my face - was Gareth's very kind expression.
"Hey you - are you ok?" He moved to touch my cheek with the palm of his hand.
I was shaking so badly, I thought I'd pass out.
What was happening?
"I uh..."
I had no idea what was going on. I was so confused!
Gareth took my hand firmly in his.
"It's such a nice night for a stroll, don't you think?" he winked playfully at me and his eyes glittered.
It wasn't a happy sparkle. It was...menacing.
I agreed because I was afraid not to.
We walked home together that night. It took hours.
I crawled into bed that night, shaken by what had occurred.
"Don't go back" a voice in my head warned
So the next morning, I woke, resolved - determined - to finally break it off with Gareth.
That's when dozens of red and yellow roses were delivered to my door.
My favourites.
Then came the apology - heartfelt and so earnest and sweet that my resolve all but melted away.
We do all make mistakes, Gareth gently reminded me.
Yes, we could try again. Sure.
That was the first time. It happened hundreds more as the next 3 years dragged by.
Yes. You heard right. THE NEXT THREE YEARS.
After 3 years of dating Gareth, I was an entirely different being.
For one thing, I didn't go to Church any more. Gareth was always getting into heated fights with other guys there and I was defending him all the time...it was exhausting for both of us. (or so I thought) and 'easier' if we just didn't go.
I didn't see my friends anymore. What had started as 'innocent dates/activities' for just Gareth and I...had somehow become Gareth planning my daily events - almost to the hour - and these plans never included time with family or friends.
I dropped out of Uni. Gareth said people with "real jobs" didn't need degrees, anyway.
I had lent Gareth money once - to fix his car when the tires wore out - and again when "payroll had stuffed up" and he was "just waiting until next Thursday to get paid", and paid for a few meals/dates because Gareth "had left his wallet at home - Ugh! Sorry"...and after a year, it seemed - again, "easier" - to just give him all my money every week. So that's what I did...year after year.
I actually came to a point in my life where I was asking Gareth's permission to use/spend my own money! And if he said "no", I'd accept that without question!
I had lost my will. I was an obedient horse, following Gareth around and hoping he'd pay attention to me.
I want to make this clear, he never hit me. He never raised a hand to me.
But I was imprisoned to him just the same.
The shift in balance of power when you're in a relationship with an abusive person is a powerful one. Make no mistake.
I was not chained to Gareth and I could "leave whenever I wanted" the entire 3 years I was with him...but at the same time, I couldn't.
I had identified and strongly bonded with my captor. So much so, that I was convinced (with Gareth's grooming of course) that I couldn't possibly live without him. He made the decisions for both of us, so I couldn't imagine how I would survive "in the world" without Gareth to lead me. I forgot I could lead myself. I forgot I was a powerful young black woman. I forgot..everything that mattered.
We didn't fight. Gareth just dictated and I meekly accepted.
I lost my fire. My vision. My heart. My will. My right to be.
I swore more. A habit I picked up from Gareth. I picked up a lot of his mannerisms, like impatience and anger at the slightest things. I remember pulling a singlet over myself to get dressed in the morning and one of the spaghetti straps broke. It was just a little thing, but I went into a rage over it and threw a lamp with all my might against a wall. I had never been like this before. I was lazy. I didn't care for the house we lived in. I didn't plant flowers or buy decorations. I did the bare minimum (cooking, dishes) to keep the place liveable...but there were cockroaches everywhere. And I didn't care. This was not like me. Not at all.
I also lied constantly. Often to excuse missing an important event with family or friends. I'm as bad at lying as I am at Math...so everyone saw through me and was hurt and disappointed. I lost so many friends in that time because I couldn't stop lying.
There is something about being constantly controlled by someone that changes you. Inside, I found myself agreeing with Gareth - on so many things I wouldn't normally agree with. My mindset had moulded to match his and I found myself thinking and reacting to things in ways that were completely unfounded and horribly surprising to me. I stopped thinking like I used to and starting thinking and behaving like Gareth did.
Like getting irrationally annoyed if a friend coming to visit.
I used to love spending time with my friends.
But after months...and then years...of being alone with Gareth, I grew to hate intrusions.
Someone I loved would knock on our door. Yes, "our door" - because I was now living with Gareth - (and paying all the rent, bills and for food. And not questioning it at all. This seemed completely natural to me) so this 'visit' was an intrusion on our lives together.
"Tap tap" on the door.
My first thought would be that I was exhausted. I didn't want to fight. I didn't want to be the peacemaker between Gareth and whoever this was that was coming to visit. I didn't want to lie anymore. I was tired of making excuses.
And Gareth's grooming over all these years had me convinced that visits from friends or family were unwanted intrusions on our perfect, quiet little life.
I would sigh.
The curtains/blinds were always drawn in 'our house' (another thing I never questioned, even though it was so weird) and together, Gareth and I would just pretend not to be home.
It astounds me to write about this...but I would willingly join in on this stupid farce.
We're not home. Just go away.
It was just easier not to see people. It was so much easier just be at home. With Gareth.
Life with Gareth was very careful. Very regimented, very predictable. For me, anyway. Gareth was "away from home" a lot. "Working". I suspect he was using, selling and buying drugs. We had a few incidences where men would come into our home with weapons and beat the living daylight out of Gareth. Not a word was spoken between them...but an understanding had been reached.
I was so confused.
So much went on that I had no knowledge of.
But what I do know...is that I lost so much of what made me me.
I aged far more than the 3 extra years. I grew bitter, cautious and quiet.
It was a really long, really awful 3 years of my life. There were about 3 instances where I did leave Gareth - determined in that moment to never come back - but the apologies, flowers, gifts, love letters and poems would win me back every time. As would the very strange feeling that "I didn't belong" wherever I 'ran away' to - I felt ill at ease away from Gareth's direction.
Isn't that weird?
Anyway, before this blog post becomes a novel (haha) I just want you to know that I'm so thankful for God's breakthrough in my life and for that one time that I finally got away - and never, ever went back.
I'll write about THAT another time :) xx
That sounds awful, and I'm glad you got out of it.
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