Once again, I was moved to tears by thinking of my last long-term relationship – my stepfamily experience as an adult. The word “mind-fuck” came to me. That’s exactly what happened – in a word. It’s been a long time since I thought of that word to describe the 2 ½ year experience. I went through a long spiritual process of forgiving everybody, including myself, and ridding myself of all resentment. This word had slipped from my thoughts until about an hour ago.
I woke up from a dream and couldn’t get back to sleep. My mind drifted to the book I’m going to write of that ordeal. The memories brought me to tears. The termination of that relationship was 2 years and 9 months ago, and it still affects me. I guess the scar doesn’t go away. Maybe it never will. The majority of the time, I am not affected and live life like an average happy person. I love to laugh, have a good time, enjoy new experiences, and the company of good friends. As long as I don’t *really* think of specific incidents during those years, all is status quo. However, I decided to write this book and now I can’t escape the memories. I think about what words I’ll use and how to describe the details without boring the reader. Mostly, how do I convey how it felt – to me - when I went through it?
The one thing I want people to realize more than anything else is I AM NOT A VICTIM! I WAS NEVER A VICTIM! I chose to be in that situation and I chose to stay. In spite of the pain, I don’t regret staying as long as I did. Nor do I regret making the decision to leave when I did. The timing was right for me to leave. I believe I would have lost my sanity if I had stayed longer. I am on peaceful terms with those decisions. Yet, that doesn’t alleviate the pain of being hurt the way I was.
I was not physically abused. Nobody called me horrible names (my ex-boyfriend’s ex aside). I was not otherwise demeaned or insulted – not in any outwardly mean way. Instead, I was constantly criticized for everything I said and did. Everything I did was wrong – because it was not the Ohio way, or not *their* way. They had this false sense that they knew the best way to do everything – and that all other ways should be changed… as if different was inferior. They thought that Cleveland water was the best in the country! LOL My way of doing things, and my perspective on most topics, did not make sense to them. They deemed me crazy and always kept me as an outsider. I was constantly defending myself, for even meaningless stuff like drinking bottled water and not believing that pets should be buried in a box/container (non biodegradable containers is like littering and not good for the earth). I understood that and didn’t expect much else from my ex’s family. What hurt the most is that he – the one person who should always have my back - shared their viewpoints.
Society gives the step parent such a hard time because we knew what we were getting into. We signed up for being a guardian to other people’s kids and the whole nine yards. True. Bio parents should be held to the same standard. My ex signed up to be with me – all of me. He liked and admired my *different* viewpoints when we were dating. I’m sure that was part of his attraction to me, as it was part of my attraction to him. So when he of all people never defended me to his family, it hurt my feelings very deeply. By not defending me, he agreed with them. I only mention a couple examples, but there are at least a few dozen more.
That alone didn’t create the mind-fuck. That’s tougher to explain. He essentially lived a lie every day we were together. He lived the lie so well that he made me believe it too. We talked numerous times. In every way I knew how, I tried to make him understand what how difficult things were for me. I made suggestions of things to change in an attempt for us to both be happy together (win-win). He resented the notion of changing on principal. He asked me why should he have to change and how could I ask him to? My answer was why should I be the only one to change? Should I only make dinner for myself? Should I not wash his son’s clothes? Those are changes I willingly made. I resented the notion that I should be the ONLY person to have to change. Why shouldn’t he change? I did… willingly.
Aside from that, most of the time he acted very understanding. He would hold my hand very tenderly, look into my eyes, and very sweetly tell me he loved me, that he understood, and that he would try harder. He made me believe it. Early in our relationship, he made me believe that he wanted to have kids with me. He continued making me believe that long after he changed his mind. Again, he told me what I wanted to hear. Maybe he was the best damn liar ever. That’s what I told the marriage counselor we saw to help us resolve issues and stay together. But, that thought nagged at me because he never came across as somebody who would intentionally hurt another person. On the contrary, he would give the shirt off his back to help a stranger. People who know him well will agree with me.
The mind-fuck didn’t stop at that. Nope. Everybody we knew wanted us to break up. Each of them had their own reason. Unbeknownst to me, a few of them were plotting behind our backs. One went through my phone text messages. People eavesdropped on me. Things I said were turned against me. Exaggerations of the truth and outright lies were told to my ex. I still don’t know most of what was said. One of the stories was the result of 2 people going through all of my personals – drawers, boxes, pictures, etc. All I knew is that he had a difficult time trusting me. For a long time, I blamed it on his ex for cheating on him. The few things I did hear, I confronted my ex. I was truthful. I had nothing to hide, so telling the truth was a no-brainer. He said he believed me, and I believed that he believed me. But, hearing the lies from multiple sources nagged at him and made him question everything – and doubt me. How could he possibly think any of those people knew me better than he did? I wasn’t chummy with them – or anybody. My closest friends were still in AZ. Even phone conversations with them – close personal friends in another state - were turned against me somehow. And, the so-called friends I had in OH turned out to be talking shit about me behind my back. Several things of mine were stolen, a few of which were returned, over the course of the couple years, including $50 out of my purse (2 months before I left).
At the time I left OH, I was paranoid to speak in my own home. I always wanted to look over my shoulder (literally and metaphorically) to see if somebody was eavesdropping. I was leery about talking to anybody. I didn’t know who to trust. The feeling was constant – followed me everywhere I went. You would think this would automatically go away after being in a different environment, but it didn’t. It took me the better part of a few years and a ton of soul-searching to feel comfortable sharing anything personal with anybody – even things remotely personal.
I guess it’s good that I didn’t know the extent of what people were doing behind my back and what they were saying. Similarly, I’m glad I didn’t find out the worst of it until I was ready to leave. Otherwise, I may have decided to leave earlier, or may have gone insane. It’s tough to say. As it is, I’m here and well. I love my life and wouldn’t change it for anything. I’ll never be able to say I didn’t learn anything. If anything, my life has been educational and emotionally adventuresome.
A few more words on not being a victim. It took a lot of time and effort for me to figure out how I contributed to the dysfunction. My state of mind when I entered the relationship had a lot to do with it, as well as the Law of Karma. I fully believe he had good intentions as I did. We were just clueless about how to handle step situations, and other things. Part of the problem was that we couldn’t see the forest through the trees. When I was there, I repeatedly re-evaluated the situation. Each time, I re-established my decision to stay. Others in similar situations may not have seen all the options or even have known they had options. Hence, some see themselves as a victim. If the choice is not conscientious, it is a choice nonetheless. I, on the other hand, conscientiously made the decision to stay, repeatedly, until I decided to leave. None of that makes the aftermath easier. I am a different person because of that experience – a better person. I chose to overcome it and learn from it. I also want others to benefit from it.
Judy Graybill
Stepfamily Coach
Sensible Steps, LLC
Solutions for Today's Families
http://www.sensiblestepsolutions.com
http://www.twitter.com/StepfamilyCoach
judy@sensiblestepsolutions.com
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