Feelings of Resentment - I Started Wishing They Didn't Come Home

I wish I could say that my feelings were isolated to one of the men who hurt me physically, but after getting out of that violent relationship and starting afresh with others, I felt like I was walking on eggshells with them too.  I started wishing that a couple more didn't come home either.  The sexist behavior, selfish ways, and the superiority complex that came with these men gradually showed up as I learned more about them.  It didn't matter that they were "so nice, didn't hit me..." but their words and disloyalty did.  The pain at times was far worse than what the physically violent man had done to me many years before--the ache was in my spirit and didn't go away at all for one person I was in a long-term relationship.  As for the other man, those negative feelings came and went and then returned again when the next offense showed up and the next.

What was going on with me was not only unresolved issues of the past, but a strong desire to make things work with incompatible partners.  The revelations were there early on, but when in lust you don't see the writing on the wall.  Also, when you have gone through so much, you only want to see the good in people sometimes.  You grow weary of being disappointed over and over again. 

I hated what was going on within and around me and I felt I had no control.  Crazy-making relationships with people who have large egos, large pockets, large bodies, and large everything else can be intimidating, delightful, and strange all at the same time.  We think that big is better in so many ways.  We admire men who have big homes, stand tall and big (because we revel in feeling protected), big "you know whats" for obvious reasons, big bank accounts and whatever else that is big and beneficial.  But when people and things fail, break down, don't look right, or even act right in relationships, those feelings of resentment begin to set in.  We ask ourselves, "What did I get myself into?"  And because one hurt us, then another and another, we run out of love, patience, and hope.  We begin to wish ourselves to be anywhere but with the person who walks through the door.

Nicholl McGuire
Laboring to Love an Abusive Mate, Laboring to Love Myself, Socially Sweet Privately Cruel Abusive Men, and She's Crazy.