It is really something soul shattering. Being with someone who says they love you, but secretly, behind closed doors, shows you they hate everything you stand for. There is something so completely tragic about being the victim of emotional abuse, all the while, empathizing with your abuser for once being the abused. It was not until my big sis, a woman who I trust with not only my hair but with every little dark secret, emphatically spoke to my spirit through a simple text message.
It read: HE IS EMOTIONALLY ABUSING YOU!!! HE IS ABNORMALLY USING YOU! YOU MUST RETREAT.
3 little sentences- one text message… although no sound was present to carry the emotion of the words on the screen, I could vividly hear her voice in my mind. It hit me like a ton of bricks to the face. I remember my heart dropping and with a slight gasp, all I could think was, “How the hell did you get here?!”
How you might ask? Those who know me, know the strong but silly, laugh out loud, smart mouthed person on the outside. Very few know or have experienced the vulnerable, hopelessly romantic, overly affectionate, deep loving, “ride or die” chick that lies within. Because I save her, for certain people, and certain relationships. This woman loves with purpose and when she does, she loves hard and it lingers no matter how bad the sting. This woman, still looks at the world with a childlike optimism and a reciprocal “I love you, you love me. I see and accept you as you do me. Ride or die, Bonnie and Clyde” type of mentally. But the truth is…not everyone loves the way I do. In fact, many people do not know how to love at all. So, how did I get here? Well… I jumped. I jumped hoping to fall in love with someone who’s words were delicately laced around my neck, and when he saw fit, he kicked the chair from under me and I choked on them…..Ok, ok, ok a bit dramatic, I know, but you know what I’m saying. Honestly, when we met, I was in one of my “green light” phases. Green lights are periods in my life when I’m open for fun, dating and I am really just willing to try new things. This time around, the new thing was jumping. I am not a jumper by nature. I’m more of a stick my big toe in, then my foot and slowly sink into it type of girl. But during this “green light” phase I was a jumper. So, I blindly trusted because to be honest, he didn’t look or seemed capable of the type of damage that he would later cause…. and why not? #YOLO!
Being the product of a fatherless home, I can own the responsibility of having a bad picker at times. Although, all my friends and family can confirm that his poker fcae was epic! So, how did I get here? I tried to love someone who was never shown the love that I was growing up, therefore, he was not capable of receiving or giving back that love. He was, however, great with appearances. He knew what it all should look like but embodying it, was another story. Him not being loved the same way I was as a child, created, as it does in most abused people, a buried self hatred and the ability to tear down anything good based on a moment’s notice. The kind the permeates and destroys everything close to them, which in this case was me. Everything I did, said, cried- or posted, was a problem. Sadly, the signs did start pretty early, but me being a singer, I’ve always had to deal with the male ego and insecurities based on stereotypes about what do and where my career will take me. So I simply wrote it off as him needing to learn how to trust; something that would simply pass. Then, his temper which used to be slight frustration at most, started to go from “0 to 100 n*gga real quick” #inmydrakevoice. I was constantly avoiding his anger and afraid to talk about things that couples should, from fear of an argument. Something as simple as me humming a ratchet song that was stuck in my head could turn into a fight. Typing these words for the first time, really reverberates how much of a fuckery I was in. I was afraid of the man I was supposed to be in love with. Wow… if that ain’t ass backwards, I don’t know what is.
But this blog, like my life, is not about him. There is a lesson here.
The funny thing about emotional abuse is that you never really see it coming. Its so sly, slick and manipulative that your confidence and self esteem is gone before you even realize what happened. When I was confronted with what I was dealing with, I started to do research and paragraph after paragraph, the smoke and mirrors disappeared. Every fight, every attempt to retreat and every criticism made sense. We were in almost every line I read. I had become a woman so afraid of being the light that I am, that I dimmed it to make him feel more comfortable. I literally over analyzed everything; even my eye movement and contact in public places from fear of him accusing of trying to cheat. I walked on egg shells in order to prevent any thing that would set him off. I scheduled my life on his clock to void discord. I cried and begged and pleaded and like punk bitch when he tried to find a way out of the relationship. Except for the last time. The last and final time the response was simple:
“Get your shit and get out of my house.”
But before I arrived back to my own shadow, I had been completely broken down. I was his emotional punching bag, where he unloaded all the things he did not want the world to see in him. It only took a few months for the change to occur. And me constantly being forced to defend myself, my actions, my words, my thoughts… hell, even my Instagram made think it was all me. So, I took just it and changed until I literally could not recognize myself in the mirror. Like, for real ya’ll- I. was. gone. The woman who loves hard had sacrificed herself in order to save him. But as J Cole says, “They don’t wanna saved.” It was up to me to save myself, and so, with no fight left, I finally said, “Get your shit and get out of my house.”
In the aftermath of us, I was left spiritually and emotionally battered and questioning everything; my gifts, my purpose, my opportunities, my worthiness, even my race. If it weren’t for my big sis, my friends and family and a lot of prayer, crying and wine, I probably would have been in that hole much longer. Have you ever come out of something that just stole your passion, your identity and your ability to love? If not, I hope you never have to. I hope this blog finds you before you jump into something that can not feed the love that you are deserving of. Let’s just say, I took for the team.
Today, in hindsight, I see that it was necessary for me to be broken down. Not that I care to do it again but I needed to be rebuilt. The reconstruction that had to take place in my life was from the ground up. I needed it because I needed to reinforce in my own mind and heart who and what I am, and more so, where I am going. I needed to walk into hell to know to never go back to that bitch again. She ugly, messy, her breath stank and the her sex is bad. I needed to mend and fall in love with myself so deeply that him not being able to, became a blessing. And hell, I got some great songs out of it-LOL…just sayin’. But I needed that level of doubt, pain and persecution to really know myself, as I do now.
I am who I am. Like it, love it, hate it. I really could care less if it is the latter. I am-with or without public opinion and no longer have fucks to give. I have none.
I am what I am and I am completely unapologetic.