The convoluted world of dating

It’s interesting to admit, at least to myself, that there was some intoxicating, possibly hormonal element and chemistry involved in my last brief relationship. The intensity of that brief time gives me a better understanding of what a flash in the pan, relationally-speaking, might look like.

Things are awkward, moving forward as friends. But I think the friendship is worth working on. It was an emotionally intense time, but I think in a way, it jump-started my emotions and desires and woke up something in me that had lain dormant, even through my first relationship post-divorce. It helped me see that I was ready for something more, and that stepping out into the unknown world of dating might take some bravery for me to get what I want. But I have the tools now. I can say no. I can call people out, kindly. I know more of what I deserve, and want, and am happy enough with my life that I don’t need someone to complete me. There are still moments of loneliness and disconnection. Still moments where I would like having a person. But I know how to fill myself, and who to reach out to for those things in healthier ways.

So the week after we broke off that poorly defined and intense relationship, I joined Match and eHarmony. To be honest, besides a few old creepers liking my profile, easily blocked – my experiences have been fairly low key and pleasant. No unwarranted pictures or uncomfortable interactions. I had one date that stood me up. Met another person for lunch, but didn’t connect with them, though they were nice. Chatted with someone else who seemed nice, but had met someone else and was pursuing one person at a time. Which is very fair!

That first week I connected with someone, whose profile I really enjoyed. A writer, with a bit of tongue in cheek humor, and self-aware enough to just say who he was, and what he liked, and what he wasn’t and was looking for. So I shot him a message, which then began a correspondence that quickly outpaced the allotted size of Match messages. So we moved to e-mails. Last weekend we met up and played some games, and I was a bit pleasantly surprised by the whole experience. We ended up meeting up online to play a video game together last night, and that too was a novel and fun experience. Finding someone who moves at your pace, play-style and conversationally, is frankly unexpected. It’s nice to engage with someone who is self-aware enough for deeper, more meaningful conversations.

It will be fun to explore this, though, I’ve never been involved with anyone with such similar interests as myself. I’m not sure what to expect. But I’m sure it will be a good opportunity for growth, and if there is one thing I’ve gotten good at the past few years – it’s definitely that.

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When he doesn’t know what he wants…

Yesterday I set a boundary. It needed to be said, as He had been messaging me daily (including good morning/good night messages) since we stepped back from dating. Calling once a week. Last Saturday he invited me over to make me dinner, and fool that I was, it really was just as friends.

It’s confusing, when someone acts like your boyfriend, but has clearly said he doesn’t want anything serious. He knows I’m not a Friends with Benefits girl, and he’s dropped all flirtation.

Friendship would be fine – he’s not a bad guy – but not with these mixed messages.

Gaslighting and crazy-making were a part of my life for so long. I don’t want to play relationship games. I don’t want to meet someone else’s needs while burying my own. I don’t compartmentalize or even transition between different relationship stages readily.

But I deserve to be with someone who wants me. I said I wasn’t in a rush, so long as we weren’t dating other people, and that I was interested in possibilities not promises. He seemed pretty certain that he wouldn’t be able to offer even a possibility. I’ve accepted what he told me, and respected that.

I recognize where his actions come from – knowing what little I do of his background. They come from a place of loneliness and insecurity. But I can’t go back to living that life. It triggers too many uncomfortable things for me, especially when the person involved is not a great communicator.

But the honest truth? I felt safe in his arms. I miss that feeling. And I’m lonely.

So to thwart the possibilities of wallowing, I’m having a few friends over for a movie tonight, and I’ve picked up a new hobby. I’ll still see Him at events with mutual friends, but no more one-on-one stuff for a little while, at the least.

 

Navigating the Currents

After taking a class for a first-time experience with a water sport this weekend, I’m amused by the similarities between relationships and the water itself. On their own, neither are inherently bad, it’s how we interact with them that determines the outcome. Do we jump in feet first, not even knowing how deep it is? Do we know the currents? Do we jump in anyway, for the thrill, despite knowing the danger?

My last, rather brief, relationship I fell hard, and I fell fast for someone I’d known for many, many years. I certainly took the jump, knowing the danger – the lack of emotional maturity, being in different places in life. The currents of our lives drew us close to one another for a brief moment, but now have drawn us further away again.

I’ve promised myself to be completely honest here – both for anyone interested in the journey post Domestic Violence as well as post Divorce.

We had two wonderful first dates, and then he stopped actively pursuing. We talked daily, and he had a lot going on, but in hindsight his feelings were not as strong as mine were becoming. He was kind, still is kind, and respectful of my boundaries. But when we were together there was a lot of the physical and not as much of the emotional connection. Which was odd, because before our first date there was a natural build-up of emotional intimacy. I let down my physical boundaries too soon, and while he was a considerate and fun lover, I had no idea how much that would super-charge my emotions.
Continue reading “Navigating the Currents”

Living in the moment

Overthinking. Perhaps it is my nature, or perhaps it is a consequence of history. Either way, my mind is constantly evaluating threads of actions and ideas and words and seeking to interpret the future. Yet while our past informs our future, it cannot always predict it.

Vulnerability terrifies me. Relationships terrify me. Yet I long for the right companionship, someone to laugh with. Someone who doesn’t expect me to shatter with a wrong move. The safety inherent in trusting someone not to go too far.

I have to keep reminding myself to treasure the immediacy of my every moment, to learn and grow and find my peace where I am at now. If I try too hard to examine every little detail I steal tomorrow’s joy too readily.

Dating a friend is certainly different. Our 6 years of history instill a certain level of trust and respect that was missing from my last relationship. I always assumed my edginess regarding physicality was due to my emotionally abusive marriage and the lack of experience with tender, loving touches.

This is the first time I’ve been with someone who both desires me, follows my lead, doesn’t push me past my boundaries… I fell asleep in his arms as we simply cuddled in my living room. No panic aftershocks. A little tenseness that faded into… relaxation. He teased me, mid-way through the night, that I was an aggressive cuddler (having pushed him off a pillow) then rolled over and curled around me, sweet and protective.

Normally I struggle with physical intimacy. Normally I hate being held in such vulnerable positions. When I was still married, my last week before leaving, I had to lay in the arms of someone I thought might kill me if he knew I was planning on leaving. I had to pretend everything was okay.

I wasn’t pretending this week. The danger of catching genuine feelings for this man is suddenly very real and suddenly very intimidating.

Without ignoring anything worth noting, I keep reminding myself one day at a time. Whether this relationship is a season or a lifetime, I know already I will be better for having it.

 

Life After Leaving, Part 3: It’s okay to be happy

What’s wrong with being happy?

A lot of websites, well-meaning people, and marriage ‘fixers’ (especially of the religious variety) will often say that being happy shouldn’t be your end-goal. That marriage is hard, and when you get married you should be in it for the long haul. I don’t entirely disagree, but those comments applied to all marriage relationships (particularly abusive ones) can be extremely problematic.

I should know, that’s one of the reasons I stayed so long, regardless of how miserable I became. It’s also one of the reasons I left and stayed gone, because when I was in… I was ALL in. And when I was out… I was ALL out. One benefit of working so hard at that relationship, I suppose, was I didn’t have any regrets.

In conversations, the same exact words may have different connotations to different people. Sometimes people mistake ‘Happy’ as people wanting to ‘live the high life’. But for me, and I suspect many others in abusive relationships, being happy means I have the freedom to be responsible for myself, own my mistakes without fear, and have what should be ordinary and everyday respect from the people in my life. I suppose what makes me happiest, is feeling fulfilled by my choices, my relationship, and my work.

Being born into a religious family, I think sometimes there is this idea in the Christian faith that anything worth having should be difficult. That to be valued, we must sacrifice. That we shouldn’t care so much about what we have in this world, but what we have in the next. These were all beliefs that led me to stay in an abusive and difficult relationship. If I’m honest with myself, it’s probably a part of the reason I ended up in that relationship to begin with, along with a lack of healthy boundaries.

Although I do still have faith in God and consider myself a Christian, I think some of the church culture nowadays romanticizes service and puts on expectations where our worth and standing is dependant on how much we sacrifice.

This is what I meant, when I said “I want to be happy”.

Before I left, I knew something was missing, a big black hole in our relationship that I struggled to fill. Everything I put into it seemed to be absorbed with nothing to show for the trouble. I didn’t know exactly what I meant when I thought, “I just want to be happy” and I never really felt I could verbalize that thought without people misunderstanding. So when I was finally ready to leave, I told my mom I “didn’t care if I was happy, I just want to be able to sleep.” For me, happiness seemed like a selfish goal, while sleep seemed like a practical and acceptable one.

Now I’ve learned that life can be fulfilling and full of joyous moments as well as difficult ones. If you’re never happy, struggle to find contentment, I think that is a sign of something needing some consideration. Just like physical pain helps us key into problematic physical issues in our body that may need to be addressed, a life absent of pleasure probably means we could use an emotional check-up. For me, that meant rooting my abuser out of my life, and doing the necessary work on myself to heal from that experience. My beliefs and expectations and views on boundaries needed some heavy consideration before I truly found contentment and ‘happiness’ again. It took me about 9 months before I smiled again, after leaving my ex. A genuine smile, not a strained one.

In my abusive relationship, the bar for being ‘happy’ was pretty low. Especially towards the end, to get a ‘happy’ moment was more along the lines of a sense of relief of not getting yelled at or feeling frightened or dealing with a suicidal spouse.

I can clean up just after myself, without being put-down and called lazy.

I can look at my bank account (regardless of positive or negative balance), and know what is going to be in there without any surprises.

I don’t have anyone angry at me, because they bought something expensive and now we don’t have money to pay the electric bill.

No one threatens to kill themselves or slit their wrists if I disagree with them.

My happiness-metric

Being happy doesn’t mean I am always comfortable,  but it does have a lot to do with my feeling content. Happiness for me, is safety in my relationships. The freedom to be my authentic self. To recognize I can’t make everyone happy, and to let go of that expectation. I can be considerate, without making myself responsible for other people’s reactions and feelings. Honesty isn’t always easy, when it leads to difficult discussions, but having the freedom to be honest is part of what makes me happy now.

How do you see happiness? Do you agree or disagree with anything I’ve shared? Would love to hear from some of you. 🙂

Life After Leaving, Part 2: Not quite the End

Leaving wasn’t the end…

…it simply moved my new end-goal to finalizing my divorce. However, it still was a new beginning and an opportunity to learn who I could be on my own. Although our relationship was far past the point of reconciliation, my ex changed his tune immediately to try and get me back. If your ex didn’t respect your voice before, once they find out you mean what you say it will just be a lot of pointless wheel-spinning, manipulation, etc.. I think if we are honest with ourselves, we know when this applies to our relationship. The trick is if we can admit it.

I wrote my ex a letter of explanation detailing everything, after the protection order was finalized. We exchanged a few e-mails on an approved e-mail that was an exception to the Protection Order. Although things had fallen apart terribly, I didn’t want any ill for my ex. I just wanted to get away from him. So I worked very hard to write my letter in a factual, kind and steadfast manner. If any of you have seen the graphic on the ‘Cycle of Abuse’, you will understand what I mean when I say his response followed the quintessential honeymoon mentality. He was so sorry. He was getting help. He was willing to do counseling. Apart. Together. A separation instead of a divorce.

These arguments may have swayed me before, but, while he admitted everything I wrote in that letter was true, he never agreed that his actions and choices constituted abuse. That made it easier to stick to my guns… as did the fact that he point blank refused any of these options in the months leading up to my departure.

Repercussions

The ‘honeymoon’ period of his rationality lasted only so long as it took my ex to realize that I was absolutely serious.

My ex was angrier about the protection order than he was about the divorce, and ultimately I had to share the response to my e-mail of him agreeing to doing all the things I had put in my protection order with my lawyer and his lawyer. My ex was very retaliatory throughout the entire process.

I stuck to my guns, and in the end, it mattered more to me to be fair and stick to my request of a 50/50 split than to cater to my ex’s threats and demands. Luckily, I was in a position with family support to make that possible. Usually, people start from a place where they will negotiate from. I just stuck unwaveringly to what I wanted and knew to be fair. I didn’t want alimony, and I didn’t want any ties to my ex after the divorce was finalized. It dragged things out longer, but it was important to me to 1) stay classy, 2) hold my ex accountable, and 3) stand up for myself and what was fair.

Two years after leaving, I am still struggling to get out of my financial hole. Recovery has been tough, I still owe thousands of dollars I borrowed for my attorney. I missed a few bills before our divorce that have chased me down, up to and including getting my wages unexpectedly garnished. (Oops.)

My ex is still out there, bearing a grudge, and likely skirting sanity as much as he was when I was with him. So safety is still a factor. I’ve learned a few practical things:

  • If you’re registered to vote, it’s likely your home address is publicly accessible. (Some states have ways around this in Domestic Violence situations – but it’s more footwork.)
  • There are websites with generic information about you, and some websites (if you log in) that have your full address. Mindful of my personal safety, I’ve gone to each one and opted out, some required copies of my license to remove the information (I redacted some info). Note: Google yourself to find out where your name comes up.
  • Lesson learned, when I move again, I am getting a P.O. Box.
  • Make sure to have two copies of a protection order. That way you can give one to the police in case of an encounter, and still have your original.

Even with all of that? It’s worth it. Home is safe again. Home is a peaceful place again.

I’m happy.

Life after Leaving, Part 1: Retrospective

While I prepare to file a renewal for a protection order (mine is about to expire) there has been a lot to contemplate and ponder. Mostly the soul-searching of, ‘Do I really think he could still come after me?’ (Yes) and ‘Am I overreacting by requesting a renewal?’ (No).

Now that I’ve wrestled with those two questions, I started to reflect on the past two years. No matter how many blogs I read, nothing really prepared me for what life would be like. I know not everyone’s experience is the same, but this is what it was like for me, leaving an abusive relationship of 10+ years. This will be my first ‘series’ of posts – I anticipate, and I hope to get out roughly one a week.

Mine isn’t the only experience – I welcome comments and am happy to share blog posts if folks write (or have written) their own experiences summing up their experiences after leaving an abusive relationship. Questions welcome. Gritty, funny, practical. 🙂

Life after leaving… really started before I left.

I hesitated to speak up for so long, because a part of me knew that once I did, everyone’s feelings about my husband would change.  Even outside of our relationship, he was not the easiest person to get along with, although very few suspected what was really going on. About three years or so before I left, he threatened my life, and I resolved at that time that if things didn’t get better I may have to make a choice I didn’t like.

The last six months of my marriage I struggled with extreme anxiety and depression. I had decided years prior, that I had to be responsible for my own happiness, and I tried for a long time to make that happen within the context of our marriage. So when my health began to go downhill, I began tracking my panic attacks and anxiety, trying to figure out what my triggers were, so I could deal with or remove them, or seek help from a counselor.

All instances led directly to my husband. It took me a few more months, and two or three extreme incidents to finally start reaching out to people I trusted. When my mother asked me, “Honey, do you want to leave?” there was only a moment of silence before I agreed. “Yes.” And broke down. But having made the decision, I felt a temporary lightness and hope. I can be free.

If you haven’t decided to leave your situation yet, my post ‘How Do I Leave?‘ summarizes most of what I felt was helpful, or you can go to the ‘Leaving your Abuser’ tab on my home page and look at the blog posts there.

My original plan was to wait a month, get things together slowly, sneak things out here and there. It was simplified by the fact we had no children. But that night when I first went home, I realized I couldn’t maintain the facade for long. Apparently everyone on my very small team was relieved when I reduced that time frame to a week.

I had help, however. Having allies in this case makes an impossible seeming situation surmountable. 

The road goes ever on and on…

Revelations are curious things, and sometimes the most profound of realizations to some are ones that are so obvious to others. But I suppose, the path to understanding ourselves is more about the journey to the destination than the destination itself.

A recent run-in with my ex, who decided it best to get arrested rather than obey my protection order, left me opening mail from the Domestic Violence Advocate and the Prosecutor’s office. In it, was a request for a Victim’s Impact Statement.

Although the request sent me to my Google Docs and I wrote several pages on several different days, none granted me the words I wished to use. I wanted to achieve a few things:

  1. I wanted to be cognizant that anything I write will go into the public record.
  2. I do not want to be weak, but I want him to understand I will utilize my protection order to the full legal extent I am allowed.

Though I still don’t have anything down I feel comfortable sharing, I discovered some things about myself through this process.

Continue reading “The road goes ever on and on…”

Rest Stop

Sometimes I forget it is not possible to be in control of everything, all the time. Or that, even if I am in control, my choices do not always lead to the best results. Or, even if my choices don’t lead to ‘the best’ results, who determines what is best and worst? Me. And sometimes those determinations are a little arbitrary, or based on other peoples’ expectations.

The last few weeks have brought with them an overflow of information, a few realizations, an incident with the ex, the Flu, a heart to heart with myself, time with friends, preparation for a long-planned minor surgery, and some heavy considerations regarding my priorities, relationships… pretty much the whole nine yards and then some.

Continue reading “Rest Stop”

Relational Crossroads

Somewhere in the last year, I met someone who genuinely valued me. Who supported me. Who seemed to enjoy my oddities and find a simple pleasure in my presence. Someone who shared my interests, and who could handle defeat of various kinds with grace and kindness and an odd sort of self-confidence that was dashingly attractive.

Tonight, I realized our relationship was lopsided. That I look at a deepening relationship with as much fear as he does eagerness.

Someone in a group made a comment about his wife, and I felt the brush of Guy’s fingers, and felt as much as saw the warm glance he turned my way.

There is one problem, however.

I am not ready.

Continue reading “Relational Crossroads”

Numb. Because life isn’t Complicated Enough.

Most people, when they see rolling hills and wide grassy expanses feel a sense of joy and relief in the beauty of the world. In reality, I can entirely relate to this and even crave the peace and quiet and regenerative qualities of the great outdoors.

Yet, with anxiety, the emotional counterpoint of those rolling green hills takes a darker turn. Beneath that beauty, lies a minefield, and if I’m to function, I have to find a way to cross it.

Fun! (Not.)

Continue reading “Numb. Because life isn’t Complicated Enough.”

Forging my own relational path

Learning to love….? again.

Love is a funny word, when you come to think of it. So many meanings and applications. I know how to love: with my family, with my intimate girlfriends who have kept me sane and supported, with my friends children or my pets. All of those things come easily to me.

When I think of love, I’ve often interpreted it in the past as action. If we love someone, we look for and strive to meet their needs so that they feel valued. A relationship is formed when that person offers the same to us. As a piece of the relational puzzle, it is a really important one. But I’ve come to learn that actions cannot exist in a void, and love itself is too multi-faceted for any strict, single definition. But, to get back to my original train of thought… Continue reading “Forging my own relational path”

Breaking Free

Shame involves that pervasive gut-twist of fear. It is the awareness that someone has learned some deeply hidden truth about you and they may think less of you, because you think less of you for it.

When I first left my ex-husband, I felt a lot of shame. That inner voice didn’t just whisper, it battered me with my own judgmental thoughts. It weighed me down physically and emotionally. Thoughts that were harsher than I would offer  any other person in my situation.

Continue reading “Breaking Free”

Nightmares

Despair greeted me when I awoke this morning, opening my eyes to the light pouring in the window. My heart pounded, and it took a little time to place the objects in my room.

No ex.

None of his things.

None of the rooms present in my dreams.

Although I immediately relaxed from that state of near panic, I’ve been on edge all day. For a few moments, I thought everything of these past 18 months had been but a dream. In it’s place, the actual dream placed me back with my ex. The location, however, was the house I grew up in. We had his niece staying with us, roughly 9 years in my dream, and another teenage girl. I returned home from work, and found them both uneasy. The older girl was supposed to stay with us, but had called to be picked up, even though it would take a few hours.

We all moved on eggshells. Me, as I didn’t want to subject the younger girls to my ex’s verbal diatribes. I don’t recall what happened next, but my ex followed me about the circular house, screaming his anger at me.

I eventually turned around, and stood up for myself. At the least, yelling back that it was not alright for him to treat me in that manner. His response was to become sulky-angry, and he stormed off to hide in the office.

The older girl went out the front door to wait outside for her ride. The niece looked at me with wide eyes, and I heard from her that my ex had been vocalizing this kind of anger while I was gone. I started gathering things, and quietly told the girl that if my ex came out of my room to just go out to the car. She wanted her things first, but unfortunately they were in the office where my ex was.

I went to try and retrieve them, and my ex opened the door when I got there, staring at me with his cold death stare and a freezing anger. The kind of anger that led to things breaking, while I held my breath and wondered if, this time, I would be next.

That is when I awoke.

I have been trying to shake that dream off all day, with little luck. I can’t focus. Can’t study. So I decided to write it down. Try and put it into words in an effort to dump it from my mind.

I am safe.

I am out.

He can’t reach me now.

I just wish my nervous system would get the memo.

Benchmarks

A year ago today, I didn’t feel whole. Instead, when I looked at myself, I saw something resembling a shattered window. All the glass reflecting bits of me, refracting light every which way, but nothing whole.

Jumbled. Confused. Broken.

I wish I could reach back in time, and wrap the woman I was in a big, long hug. To tell her, “Your journey is worth it.” Because it is. It has been. And it continues to be.

There are days I still wonder if I’ll ever be fully healed again, moments of irrational fear and obsessive thoughts that lead to anxiety. But instead of derailing my day like they once did, I am able to start moving past them. Being able to write and process life and struggles and perspectives here has been such a blessing.

I am starting to come back.

Promotion at work. Slowly getting my finances in order. Starting back to school. Spending time with friends. Working on healthier habits. My own car. Renewed friendships. A healthy relationship.

Life doesn’t often allow us to stop and reflect. I still have a long way to go, and I am still cleaning up a lot of messes that happened when I was overwhelmed, anxious, and lacking in funds. But if I’ve come so far in just a year, where could I end up in another?