How Much Easier It Would All Be If He Was Just A Monster.

How much easier it would all be if he was just a monster.

Sometimes the hardest thing to accept about abusers/toxic relationships is that these people care(d) about you, or at least thought they did.

It’s easy to think of stereotypical ‘abusers’ as these Big Bad Monsters who have no regard for your wellbeing. It’s easy but it isn’t always true.

They may well be like that, but they might also be that one person from school who always texts to make sure you’re okay. They might be the family member that tries to cheer you up. They might be the friend you’ve had for as long as you can remember. There is no template for abuse and there is no template for abusers, everyone experiences it differently.

No matter how much these people care about you or love you, if they are abusing you it is absolutely okay to cut them out of your life. You don’t owe them anything because of how they might feel about you.

Part 2 : I did get up.

Anthem

While working in the basement one day, I did something that upset him (likely the board I was holding wasn’t straight or flush enough for him, or something we screwed together wasn’t square).  He pushed me to the ground and I hit my head on something.

He stood over me, triumphant and imposing. I locked eyes with him for a moment, stunned.  Then he sang “Who runs the world” in a mocking voice; he sang Beyonce daring me to get up.

Good riddance.

2017 was the year I woke up. I will hold on to that.

Problem

I am not looking for anyone at this point in time, and may never look for someone ever again.

But if there comes a time when I would like to have a someone again, I may be in a pickle. Who on earth would hear any of this and not run for the hills?

This was part of the plan I'm sure.

"What? You think John* hasn't ever had to keep Jane* in line? You think I'm the only one who does this?"

* a couples friend of ours. Names changed.

Anthem

While working in the basement one day, I did something that upset him (likely the board I was holding wasn’t straight or flush enough for him, or something we screwed together wasn’t square).  He pushed me to the ground and I hit my head.

He stood over me, triumphant and imposing. I locked eyes with him for a moment, stunned.  Then he sang “Who runs the world” in a mocking voice; he sang Beyonce daring me to get up.