Violent Relationship, Power and Control - Childhood Observation Came Around Full Circle
Yelling, threatening, punishing...this was not what I signed up for. What kind of relationship was this? In the 1990s, I was still discovering unique traits about myself before I ended up in a violent relationship.
At times, I wasn't easily understood by family and friends. Being in an intimate relationship was really not ideal for me at the time. It was enough trying to figure out my personal interests outside of college and where I might end up being employed later.
I was quite young, a mere 20 years old and not a virgin. Yet, I still dabbed acne cream on random pimples that would sprout up whenever my menstrual cycle would rear its ugly head. I was still fitting into clothing from the ninth grade and still standing at the bus stop sucking on a lollipop in the words of rapper L.L. Cool J. I was still cute in the face while my body was maturing in clothing that showed my best features.
The socially sweet, privately cruel abusive man took notice one day as I hurried to my part-time mall job after leaving my part-time day job at a telecommunications company. I was walking along a street one hot summer day in my childhood hometown headed to a bus stop without a lollipop. The abusive man, who I referred to in past articles and a book entitled, "Laboring to Love an Abusive Mate" would take what little innocence I still had left weeks later.
Ten years older than me at the time, my abuser had a lot of experience finding women and bedding them. He was in the mood for someone youthful, naive, and ignorant to his kind of gaming. A young woman such as myself back in '96 was just happy to be getting a ride from a date, going to the movies and eating at restaurants on someone else's dime. I didn't have time nor the brain space to be concerned about manipulative men on the prow using power and control tactics on their prey. That was something that happened in the movies. It wasn't my reality until a met Mr. Wrong.
My youthful laughs, blushing, and occasional fun in his bed would turn into many tears, fears, and stresses in a matter of weeks. I felt I was just too young to manage the issues he was dumping on me, yet my wanting to help him motivated me to stick it out--his meltdown, his neat-freak behavior, rides in his cars, talking to his friend, and going to places he suggested. I started longing for fun times with my friends again when life was just about attending college classes and staying late to help out with extracurricular activities while chatting it up about us soon-to-be graduates great opportunities ahead. What did I get myself into back then?
When I figured out why I would be attracted to someone older who didn't have much patience, money, trust, respect, care, etc. I realized that he was familiar. There was something about his features, conversation and mannerisms that reminded me of childhood. I observed broken men like him interacting with broken women in our family. These abusive men I grew up with had a domineering presence. They were nice men when they wanted to be, but the common personality trait was that they all had a dark side -- a mean spirit. The dark side was attractive as long as it stayed in a movie scene, but in reality, my reality, they were simply put, evil men. They used and abused women. They had little respect for them. They wanted far too much from women then they were ever willing to give. What was confusing was the women complained among one another, but with a smile on their faces and listening ears, they still served these bad men.
I overheard their conversations growing up, these violent men talked about what they got away with and laughed about the "crazy" women who they weren't dealing with anymore. I learned later why those women were no longer in their lives, they had hit them repeatedly. They got away--they had, had enough! What my relatives didn't know was that my new boyfriend was just like them, he too was grabbing, shoving, and tripping me with his foot whenever he was irritated or angry with me. He too was talking about other women who got away too with his abusive friends.
When I think back, I was a bit lonely. I didn't really like younger men at the time, because the ones I encountered was so immature. I was also in need of some financial assistance (so I thought he would help me), but later I found out I was helping him far more. The player wasn't about to get played (so he thought) by a younger woman--he held all the cards including my heart.
I know that had I been more discerning about this guy and less busy with other things like work and college, I would have seen that he was no match for me. However, I also didn't think we would be nothing more than "friends with benefits" too. Months later he had proposed to me and despite the abuse that I had been enduring by his scarred hands, I felt like things would get better since he wanted to commit to me and only me. But they didn't, a whole lot of promises, but nothing got any better, it only got worse.
The angry man accused me of things he had really done to me when we would argue about all sorts of things like cheating. He would criticize me about my new found faith, meanwhile he was the one who invited me to church. He would lie about his whereabouts and the drugs he smoked while I was at work. He told me I was nice-looking and smart and then would turn around in the same breath and talk about how stupid I was and joke about how I looked during my tough bouts with a variety of PMS related symptoms. I honestly grew to dislike that man, but I knew I had to leave him once and for all.
Nine months later, the time came when we had a major falling out because I had finally made up in my mind that I was not marrying him and I was moving out. I fought one of my worse physical fights with him that sunny, spring day in April--a Saturday, I recall. A day when we should have been resting from a week's work, but no, there we were fighting again. It was my yelling, "Help! Help!" and the thumps on the floor from us fighting that motivated someone in our apartment building to call the police.
I have shared details over the years about my story on this blog and on other websites around the web. What I would like every reader to take from this blog entry is this, never be so busy that you aren't paying close attention to that new person in your life. Notice all the signs that let you know this person is not the one--don't dismiss them!
Singles will spend more time pouring over material to pass a test, an application to purchase a car, and even scrutinize someone who is handling their food and money, but not so much when someone shows up in one's life appearing to be the answer to all his or her problems.
Looking back, that abusive man was a gentleman. He behaved like he was really into me (while he was also "into" every other person he thought he could bed too). Finding and bedding women was his hobby! Controlling others was his interest. The signs were there, but I had an old, familiar phrase in the back of my mind, "Boys will be boys."
What I observed during childhood was that rarely did nice-looking men, who talked a good game, experienced consequences from the gullible women. As long as they knew they could get away with some things, they continued to do them. These women, who were at times fearful, didn't bother to set boundaries. They did whatever they could to keep their men, because they thought they were being "good" women by doing so.
The strong women realized the truth about those abusive men from my childhood rather quickly and got out of their lives as quick as they learned. I saw them once and then not anymore. Yet, the gullible and fearful women, who were too mentally weak, physically tired, and felt like they couldn't ever meet a good man, settled. Those were the familiar examples around me, weak women with low self-esteem who walked on eggshells around players, pimps, and hustlers.
No matter how much education one has, there is always a spot in one's mind where ignorance is bliss until you get hurt. You notice some things, but you don't really want to fight that fight with someone. You hope and pray that the issues might go away, but with people who have unchecked disorders of all sorts, they don't just go away!
The man I met was a narcissist. He also may have been borderline, because his mood could change very quickly to anger, paranoia would kick in, along with disloyalty and addiction especially if the slightest relationship related issue triggered him. It could be the tone of your voice, the way you moved, or something you said that he didn't like. I spent a lot of time in that relationship saying, "I'm sorry...I didn't mean...That's not what I said... Why are you calling me a name?" I would yell, curse and cry. He would grab, push, choke, name-call, ignore, cheat, etc.
For the victim, you can do better. I know it is hard to see your worth in a miserable relationship. One day, you will see yourself in the way that God intended when you get away from that evil person, a child of darkness, that feeds off of snuffing out the light within. Haters hate those who they know are far better than them.
I was in college on the Dean's List and came from a two-parent household. My hater never went to college and his father wasn't around because he was married to someone else. He was a rejected love child. My mother and father who cared for me from the time I was born, hadn't ever abandoned me. His mother's idea of care was making extra income by spreading her legs for male suitors who he and others' in the neighborhood saw coming and going out of their home. He was forced to be independent at a young age making his own food and cleaning their home. I got to take my time since it wasn't deemed necessary for me to grow up so fast.
We had more differences that created a lot of division between us. I had no problem communicating my thoughts, writing, and enjoying the company of others. He wasn't good at articulating his emotions, didn't write well, and in the company of others he turned people off with his "I" talk and the shady way he looked at people. Haters have a way of seeking out people better than them, then later hating them because they are better -- go figure!?
Please be inspired by my experience to make better dating and relationship decisions in your life. Back in the 90s, we use to say, "I don't need a man." Yet, we acted in ways that said differently. A man is an added benefit to your life when he is right, but when he is no-good, we don't settle.
God bless.
Nicholl McGuire is the author of Socially Sweet, Privately Cruel Abusive Men and other books.
At times, I wasn't easily understood by family and friends. Being in an intimate relationship was really not ideal for me at the time. It was enough trying to figure out my personal interests outside of college and where I might end up being employed later.
I was quite young, a mere 20 years old and not a virgin. Yet, I still dabbed acne cream on random pimples that would sprout up whenever my menstrual cycle would rear its ugly head. I was still fitting into clothing from the ninth grade and still standing at the bus stop sucking on a lollipop in the words of rapper L.L. Cool J. I was still cute in the face while my body was maturing in clothing that showed my best features.
The socially sweet, privately cruel abusive man took notice one day as I hurried to my part-time mall job after leaving my part-time day job at a telecommunications company. I was walking along a street one hot summer day in my childhood hometown headed to a bus stop without a lollipop. The abusive man, who I referred to in past articles and a book entitled, "Laboring to Love an Abusive Mate" would take what little innocence I still had left weeks later.
Ten years older than me at the time, my abuser had a lot of experience finding women and bedding them. He was in the mood for someone youthful, naive, and ignorant to his kind of gaming. A young woman such as myself back in '96 was just happy to be getting a ride from a date, going to the movies and eating at restaurants on someone else's dime. I didn't have time nor the brain space to be concerned about manipulative men on the prow using power and control tactics on their prey. That was something that happened in the movies. It wasn't my reality until a met Mr. Wrong.
My youthful laughs, blushing, and occasional fun in his bed would turn into many tears, fears, and stresses in a matter of weeks. I felt I was just too young to manage the issues he was dumping on me, yet my wanting to help him motivated me to stick it out--his meltdown, his neat-freak behavior, rides in his cars, talking to his friend, and going to places he suggested. I started longing for fun times with my friends again when life was just about attending college classes and staying late to help out with extracurricular activities while chatting it up about us soon-to-be graduates great opportunities ahead. What did I get myself into back then?
When I figured out why I would be attracted to someone older who didn't have much patience, money, trust, respect, care, etc. I realized that he was familiar. There was something about his features, conversation and mannerisms that reminded me of childhood. I observed broken men like him interacting with broken women in our family. These abusive men I grew up with had a domineering presence. They were nice men when they wanted to be, but the common personality trait was that they all had a dark side -- a mean spirit. The dark side was attractive as long as it stayed in a movie scene, but in reality, my reality, they were simply put, evil men. They used and abused women. They had little respect for them. They wanted far too much from women then they were ever willing to give. What was confusing was the women complained among one another, but with a smile on their faces and listening ears, they still served these bad men.
I overheard their conversations growing up, these violent men talked about what they got away with and laughed about the "crazy" women who they weren't dealing with anymore. I learned later why those women were no longer in their lives, they had hit them repeatedly. They got away--they had, had enough! What my relatives didn't know was that my new boyfriend was just like them, he too was grabbing, shoving, and tripping me with his foot whenever he was irritated or angry with me. He too was talking about other women who got away too with his abusive friends.
When I think back, I was a bit lonely. I didn't really like younger men at the time, because the ones I encountered was so immature. I was also in need of some financial assistance (so I thought he would help me), but later I found out I was helping him far more. The player wasn't about to get played (so he thought) by a younger woman--he held all the cards including my heart.
I know that had I been more discerning about this guy and less busy with other things like work and college, I would have seen that he was no match for me. However, I also didn't think we would be nothing more than "friends with benefits" too. Months later he had proposed to me and despite the abuse that I had been enduring by his scarred hands, I felt like things would get better since he wanted to commit to me and only me. But they didn't, a whole lot of promises, but nothing got any better, it only got worse.
The angry man accused me of things he had really done to me when we would argue about all sorts of things like cheating. He would criticize me about my new found faith, meanwhile he was the one who invited me to church. He would lie about his whereabouts and the drugs he smoked while I was at work. He told me I was nice-looking and smart and then would turn around in the same breath and talk about how stupid I was and joke about how I looked during my tough bouts with a variety of PMS related symptoms. I honestly grew to dislike that man, but I knew I had to leave him once and for all.
Nine months later, the time came when we had a major falling out because I had finally made up in my mind that I was not marrying him and I was moving out. I fought one of my worse physical fights with him that sunny, spring day in April--a Saturday, I recall. A day when we should have been resting from a week's work, but no, there we were fighting again. It was my yelling, "Help! Help!" and the thumps on the floor from us fighting that motivated someone in our apartment building to call the police.
I have shared details over the years about my story on this blog and on other websites around the web. What I would like every reader to take from this blog entry is this, never be so busy that you aren't paying close attention to that new person in your life. Notice all the signs that let you know this person is not the one--don't dismiss them!
Singles will spend more time pouring over material to pass a test, an application to purchase a car, and even scrutinize someone who is handling their food and money, but not so much when someone shows up in one's life appearing to be the answer to all his or her problems.
Looking back, that abusive man was a gentleman. He behaved like he was really into me (while he was also "into" every other person he thought he could bed too). Finding and bedding women was his hobby! Controlling others was his interest. The signs were there, but I had an old, familiar phrase in the back of my mind, "Boys will be boys."
What I observed during childhood was that rarely did nice-looking men, who talked a good game, experienced consequences from the gullible women. As long as they knew they could get away with some things, they continued to do them. These women, who were at times fearful, didn't bother to set boundaries. They did whatever they could to keep their men, because they thought they were being "good" women by doing so.
The strong women realized the truth about those abusive men from my childhood rather quickly and got out of their lives as quick as they learned. I saw them once and then not anymore. Yet, the gullible and fearful women, who were too mentally weak, physically tired, and felt like they couldn't ever meet a good man, settled. Those were the familiar examples around me, weak women with low self-esteem who walked on eggshells around players, pimps, and hustlers.
No matter how much education one has, there is always a spot in one's mind where ignorance is bliss until you get hurt. You notice some things, but you don't really want to fight that fight with someone. You hope and pray that the issues might go away, but with people who have unchecked disorders of all sorts, they don't just go away!
The man I met was a narcissist. He also may have been borderline, because his mood could change very quickly to anger, paranoia would kick in, along with disloyalty and addiction especially if the slightest relationship related issue triggered him. It could be the tone of your voice, the way you moved, or something you said that he didn't like. I spent a lot of time in that relationship saying, "I'm sorry...I didn't mean...That's not what I said... Why are you calling me a name?" I would yell, curse and cry. He would grab, push, choke, name-call, ignore, cheat, etc.
For the victim, you can do better. I know it is hard to see your worth in a miserable relationship. One day, you will see yourself in the way that God intended when you get away from that evil person, a child of darkness, that feeds off of snuffing out the light within. Haters hate those who they know are far better than them.
I was in college on the Dean's List and came from a two-parent household. My hater never went to college and his father wasn't around because he was married to someone else. He was a rejected love child. My mother and father who cared for me from the time I was born, hadn't ever abandoned me. His mother's idea of care was making extra income by spreading her legs for male suitors who he and others' in the neighborhood saw coming and going out of their home. He was forced to be independent at a young age making his own food and cleaning their home. I got to take my time since it wasn't deemed necessary for me to grow up so fast.
We had more differences that created a lot of division between us. I had no problem communicating my thoughts, writing, and enjoying the company of others. He wasn't good at articulating his emotions, didn't write well, and in the company of others he turned people off with his "I" talk and the shady way he looked at people. Haters have a way of seeking out people better than them, then later hating them because they are better -- go figure!?
Please be inspired by my experience to make better dating and relationship decisions in your life. Back in the 90s, we use to say, "I don't need a man." Yet, we acted in ways that said differently. A man is an added benefit to your life when he is right, but when he is no-good, we don't settle.
God bless.
Nicholl McGuire is the author of Socially Sweet, Privately Cruel Abusive Men and other books.
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