We’re in my childhood bedroom, in my parents’ house, in my hometown. It is Thanksgiving Day, and my mother and I have just finished dinner. My father would not be home until close to midnight, as the medical field tends to not slow for holidays.

My mother sits on the edge of my bed, pensive. We are talking about a topic she does not love, which is when I dated an abusive man for a period of time the previous year.  

She exhales and begins to speak.

Mom: “I have always wanted there to be a special someone in your life who gets you, and is your best friend forever. It’s not easy, as a mother, to see your child go through anything less than that — you’ve had two unhealthy relationships in a row, now.”

It’s true; I’ve been in two long-term relationships, and both were unhealthy — lasting about a year apiece. My most recent one was much more severe than the first, ending about one year ago.

Me: “So what was it like as a mother, to watch me go through a second bad relationship?”

Mom: “I didn’t know in the beginning that things were going to get as bad as they did, but I did know from day one that I didn’t like him. I also knew that if I let you know that, you wouldn’t be honest with me if things were ever not okay and you needed help. I’d seen you do it before, with your first boyfriend, so I stayed quiet from the very beginning.”

Recognizing the Signs

I asked my mom what clues she found outside of the larger incidents — and she told me that they were many, and frequent, and almost exhausting to try and keep up with and analyze.

“Your Behavior Changed”

Mom: “The unhealthy patterns started with smaller things, but then it turned into huge things, like when you drove to Baltimore for a Beyonce concert and skipped the actual concert. You’d given him your extra ticket, but when you got back, you said something about how he’d been in some kind of pain and needed to go to the hospital instead. You’d been talking about that show for months. The daughter I knew would have sent him to the hospital in an Uber and gone to the concert alone. You’d been seeing him for two months. That’s when I saw he had a hold over you, and it’s probably how he learned it, too.”

“Your Lifestyle Changed”

Mom: “You were going through money so fast and I couldn’t tell where it was being spent; it didn’t make any sense. You made more than enough to cover your expenses and still have a cushion. You’d ask for help with a bill, so I’d send you money. And then a couple days later, you’d ask for even more, but once it was for the same bill. That’s how I figured out you were paying his bills on top of yours. None of this was like you.”

“Your reasons for doing things or not doing things weren’t even your words. Everything you said was rehearsed. Your whole lifestyle was wild – all these trips, night out after a night out, tons of time taken off work — things you’d never done before. It all came on so quickly, almost out of nowhere. Except I knew it wasn’t out of nowhere; I knew it was him.”

“You Stopped Coming Home”

Mom: “You didn’t come home to visit as much, and you wouldn’t let us come down to see you. When you did come home, there was always an agenda. You weren’t yourself. You weren’t relaxed. You always brought him with you, and you always left with cash or a check for whatever objective he’d given you that time. I couldn’t get to you;

I tried to talk to you, but it was like you were in a fog and I didn’t know exactly how to go about helping you get back.

You couldn’t make eye contact with me. Or you were looking at him, constantly measuring what you could say in front of him as if you couldn’t afford to misstep.”

“Your Partner Controlled You”

“He had this awful body language. When I asked you something, he’d give you a sideways glance, and wait for you to give me an answer, as if he had prepped you. And then he’d relax back into his chair. He had control over what you said and did in front of me. I started to be afraid that if you didn’t keep jumping through hoops and covering for him, he would do something awful or aggressive.”

Stunned, I asked her what kept her from intervening. This is hard for me to ask, and harder for her to answer, I’m sure. We are both tearful at this point, my mother and I. We have never discussed this part of the story.

Mom: “Your relationship with him could have destroyed your relationship with me. I’m sure that’s what he wanted — for you to separate from me. I knew that if I got difficult, that he would make you cut ties. I knew he had that kind of that influence, and I knew your life depended on that not happening.”

“You Shut Me Out”

Mom: “I was up here, three states away; you were down there, and I had no way to assess for myself. I’d call and text, and you’d insist that everything was fine. I was never around you enough to be sure. I was afraid that if I offended you, you’d shut that door and I’d lose you.

So I kept calm. And I just waited. I prayed a lot. I told you that I loved you so many times.

I was addicted to your Instagram and Facebook because when you wouldn’t talk to me, it was the only way I could get information. I got so nervous when you didn’t post anything for a few days. It made me angry that I didn’t have the power to pull you out of this.”

The Break-Up

Mom: “One day you called me because you found out he was starting a rumor about you. You said to me, “Mom, I think he is trying to tear my life apart; I think he’s trying to isolate me from the rest of the world.” I already knew that and was glad you were seeing it.”

“I actually found out that you’d ended things from reading your blog; you never told me that you guys broke up. I don’t know exactly what happened. You were just as tight-lipped about his departure. You never discussed it with me. But I watched you come back to life. You started suddenly doing all this stuff — working out again, being involved in stuff again. So that made me hope that you were breaking the cycle and changing all the settings.”

Moving Forward

Mom: “You’re a therapist, and you had a therapist. If anyone should have “known” better and been spared from this, it was you. But then I look at you now, and you’re a different person as a result of it all.

Before, while you were with him, you were angry…lost…victimized. Now, your feet are on the ground. You are so self-aware now; you did so much work and dug so deep into figuring out why you had a tendency to choose abusive people instead of just being ashamed of it.

You’re my hero for that. You’re a lot of people’s hero for that.

Now, you’re frustrated that this happens to other people. I have no doubt in my mind that you’re going to accomplish anything you set your mind to because you’re always thinking about what you needed someone to say when you couldn’t speak on your own.”

Advice From One Parent To Another

Our tears have turned to tears of joy and gratitude now. I have one more thing to ask my mother — what she would tell parents who see their children, or people who see their loved ones, in what could be an unhealthy situation.

Listen

Mom: “I think it’s hard for anyone to hear they’re wrong about something, and it feels bold to tell them, especially with matters of the heart. You can create opportunities to share, but you can’t make them do the sharing. You just have to keep reassuring them that you’re in their corner no matter what should arise. If you intervene, unless that person is really ready to change and leave, they’ll go right back.”

Be Supportive

Mom: “So don’t alienate your child, or your friend, or whoever, to where they won’t come to you with a problem. Do what you can to keep it supportive and tension-free so that when they are ready to talk, they will. If you destroy that, there’s no go-to. I would like to think everyone has someone in their life they can talk to. If you even think you’re that person, be careful not to jeopardize that gift.”

And what a gift my mother is to me is not lost on me. We return to lighter topics — what kind of pie is still left in the kitchen, for starters. The holiday season and dawn of a new year have me feeling more thankful than usual, because of my own journey and how far I have come in just a short time. It gives me hope that the tides really can turn, and abuse really can lessen, if we keep shedding light on things and telling about them as we are able to. A little bit more light every day, and perhaps no one will have to be in that darkness anymore.

 Written by Writer’s Corps member Amanda Phillips 

The post My Unhealthy Relationship Through My Mother’s Eyes [A Bystander’s Perspective] appeared first on One Love Foundation.

A letter to myself on the first morning after walking away from my abusive relationship.

[This is a letter written to the woman I was 9 months ago. These are the things she needed to hear, and that I can now put a voice to after months of therapy and healing space. This is everything I wish someone had said to me on the morning after I left my abusive relationship.]

Dear Amanda,

First of all, take a deep breath. There are a lot of things that you need to do right now, and the first one is to just breathe. Second of all, take your time. Get out of bed slowly, if and when you are able. When you do, take a look at the woman in the mirror. She has a whole world to rebuild. If that sounds daunting, try to reallocate that weight to be hopeful for the new and beautiful things that I can see from where we are now. It’s going to take some time for you to get here, and that time will not always be easy, and that’s okay. Healing is like that. Third – and you may not be ready to believe this yet, but we’ve got to break the ice on this – none of this was your fault.

You thought you could fix him; save him. You thought that if you stayed, he would finally love you in the right way, instead of the way that kept you isolated, and up at night, and hiding things. You offered that man every square inch of warmth in your heart. The fact that it didn’t heal him says nothing of any insufficiency on your part, and everything of how cold and despondent he really must have been, despite your best efforts to see the situation in any other light.

Here’s what you need to know. Not to spoil the ending, but your life has absolutely expanded in his absence. But his departure doesn’t get the credit for that; your life would have expanded regardless. You know who you are, what your purpose on this planet is, what you deserve, where you’re headed, what you are worth. You have always known, and those things were never contingent on his staying or leaving, but it sure is easier to hear all of that without his voice in your ear constantly telling you that you are too much, to slow down on your dreams, or:

“That didn’t happen.

And if it did, it wasn’t that bad.

And if it was, it’s not a big deal.

And if it is, it wasn’t my fault.

And if it was, I didn’t mean it.

And if I did, you deserved it.”

That voice is gone now. I know you don’t really know what to do without it, but hear this – there are better, kinder, more truthful voices coming to take its place. You don’t have to listen that one, The Wrong One, anymore – and I’m sorry that you ever felt like you had to in the first place. The good news is that you found the strength to walk away from it; that was a hard thing, even though most people talk about it like it should have been a really easy decision. They mean that with love; only some people really know the extent of the hold he had on you, the power of abuse, and even fewer people know the whole story, which is that he stripped you of your identity and made it sound like he was doing you a favor, made you feel like you had to stay, and even worse — that you had to keep how terrible things really were all to yourself — and you spent months too paralyzed to look for a way out.

But you did find it — the courage to leave, rather than exist in a world where you took whatever you could get and accepted that you were merely tolerable instead of exquisite and radiant and unstoppable, which are all things you only realized that you are after he left and you had to wake up in a quiet house and look in the mirror again.

His house was cold; his heart even moreso. There were no mirrors on the walls there, though. You couldn’t see the strong woman in the mirror. You’ll wonder later if this was intentional.

But it’s your first morning. It’s your first morning turning over a new leaf. And it’s really hard here. The girl you’re looking at in the mirror – I know that she’s terrified. Be there. Be terrified for a minute – or angry, scared, sad. Feel those things, and stay with them until you figure out what they have to teach you. It would be really easy to just call and let him back in for the 400th time, and start the whole cycle over, which he will invite you to do, peppered with the same old things he doesn’t mean like, “I’m sorry” and, “it was the bourbon” and, “but you’re the love of my life.”

You may have been, but he wasn’t yours, and that is all released to the wind now.
There is actual love out there.
You have so much of it within you; nurture that for a while. Breathe. Take your time.

None of this was your fault, but oh, you will grow from it.
The girl in the mirror will smile again, soon enough.
She will find joy, and pour herself into things that will flourish.
The anger and fear and confusion will pop their heads in from time to time.
They’re still around, but they will be the white noise behind laughter,
singing in the car, life stories in coffee shops,
or under the stars.

Life will be abundant again. Write that on the mirror, in case she forgets.
— in case she forgets that love is coming.

Love,

Yourself. Always.
[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]

Written by Writer’s Corps member Amanda Phillips

The post A Letter to Myself After Walking Away From My Abusive Relationship appeared first on One Love Foundation.