I’ve noticed something about myself and that is that I tend to come from scarcity when it comes to things of value such as money and love. I tend to ‘make do’ with whatever is available because I think that is all there is. I manifest this at work too. I take on too much all at once, volunteer for things that I really do not have time for and then allow other people’s priorities to overtake my own and make them more important than mine. I get ‘talked into’ things easily and say that I will do something even if I have never done it before and I know it will be difficult. I understand from what I have read that this is a typical characteristic of someone prone to being abused.

Take my business, for example, I have a set of terms and conditions which I give out to new clients most of whom don’t even bother to read them – let alone sign them! I don’t make a fuss, fearing that if I did perhaps they will take their business elsewhere and I will never get another client in my life and I will lose my house and…………………………….down I go on that ‘thought spiral’. 

The result of this is that many people in my life treat me badly. Because they are basically rude, selfish and ignorant and I don’t ‘check’ them for being so. I have always allowed them to get away with it. My clients, for example, never thank me for what I do for them – which often goes way beyond what I am being paid for. I always go the extra mile and I guess you could say that they do reward me by paying my bills and keeping on giving me business. But, you know, sometimes that’s just not enough. Sometimes, just sometimes, a kind word would mean so much. If I make a mistake or do something wrong you can bet your life they are extremely vocal but do something good, exceed their expectations and………….silence! 

I know I shouldn’t be complaining – that I should be feeling very lucky to have business in this ‘downturn’. I hardly ever complain to friends and acquaintances but when I do often the reaction typically is to shut up moaning, be thankful and enjoy spending the money!! But just recently I have begun to see that that is just one way to look at it. There are other ways. For example, would those people think it sensible to fill my life, and business hours, working for customers who are basically costing me money by keeping me busy doing work that is less profitable when I could be looking for work that is much more profitable? I believe there are customers out there who would respect my terms and conditions and indeed would see me as more professional for having them, be agreeable to adhering to them and thus making for a much smoothing ride towards a productive professional relationship whereby they get exactly what they want in the shortest time possible and as cost-effectively as possible and I get a proper, detailed and specific briefing to work to so that I don’t have to keep re-drafting everything because they cannot make up their minds what they want!! I think that is a sensible option – don’t you! 

It’s all about respect, being assertive and changing my responses to events from the past. That’s what one friend (one of the more supportive ones) said to me. She suggested I do an ‘assertiveness’ training course – but one that is business focussed (rather than personal development-led). She said this might help me to not be scared to assert my rights as a supplier and have my terms and conditions adhered to. She said that it would probably take a bit of getting used to for the clients I have so far, who have got used to the casual, ad-hoc way of working that I have allowed but that I must not worry if they cannot hack it and decide to go elsewhere because I would, in effect, be making room for more and better clients who would treat me more professionally – and better. 

I see it all the time. I see it in my personal life, how I pick up tiny crumbs of friendship, affection, attention and love because that is all there is and I might not get anymore. Well, there’s a sea-change a-commin! I’ve taken the first step: becoming aware of how much I give up and give in (actually, the first step was leaving my abusive partner!!). Now I am ready to take the next one. I want to manifest great things – great work, respectful and appreciative clients, great relationships, a full social life and………………….so much! Not sure how I will do it, but that doesn’t matter as I have taken the first step.

Check out Sam Vaknin (you can get there via melove54, top of the page – link to YouTube video – or go to YouTube), self-proclaimed narcissist. Jees! That’s my husband! Well, not literally – I was not married to Sam Vaknin but the characteristics of him and my abusive ex are identical: the portrayal of grandiosity beyond reality, need to come across as perfect, constant tetchiness about the immediate environment, focus on self – yikes! Painful to watch. Then we get to see his poor wife! OMG! That’s me! Having to always look up to him, make him the focus, do his deeds, pretend like you have a say in the matter when the reality is you don’t!

It got me thinking about my relationship and how difficult it was for me, when I began to realise I was trapped in an abusive relationship, to garner support from anyone within our circle of friends, acquaintances and family. The problem was, because he was so accomplished at putting on this play, this facade, creating a great self-image, no-one saw or experienced him as I did. What they saw was what he wanted them to see: this brave, courageous and charming persona – so when I started to complain, the response I got was less than supportive. Most of them tried to make out that there was something wrong with me – there must be; that I was complaining about this ‘great’ man whom I was “lucky” to be with (yes, believe me, some people even said that to me!!). I understand now that there is a vast difference between narcissism and self-confidence. Here’s my take on it: 

• Narcissism is all about self. Self-confidence is inclusive. 
• Narcissism is about being better than………..Self-confidence is about being as good as you can possibly be and/or as good as everyone else.
• Narcissists want recognition and attention. Self-confident people want to do what they love and do it well.
• Narcissism is about entitlement. Self-confidence is about celebrating achievement.
• Narcissism is about projecting a false image. Self-confidence is about taking pride in what I know, what I have learned/studied and what I know I am good at.
• Narcissists lie. Self-confident people are goal-oriented and want to win but make no false promises. 
• Narcissists repress their emotions/feelings. Self-confident people possess freedom of expression.
• Narcissists are manipulative. Self-confident people are persuasive.
• Narcissists are motivated by power and control. Self-confident people are motivated by achievement.
• Narcissists are obsessed about appearance. Self-confident people care more about their abilities.
• Narcissists care little for human values. Self-confident people value being human.
• Narcissists value material possessions. Self-confident people value experience.
• Narcissists value notoriety. Self-confident people value dignity. 

Until recently (latter part of the 20th century), relationships were about survival and continuing the human race, I believe. My Grandparents got married because she needed a man to bring home the money that they used to buy food and put a roof over their heads and he needed a home-maker who would support him in going out and making the money – and they both needed each other to make babies! It was a perfect partnership. Emotional feelings, for the most part, didn’t figure and it’s been like that through time. Now, however, relationships have become exceedingly difficult because a lot of confusion exists as to their purpose. For most of us in the ‘westernised’ world, survival is pretty much handled now; single, couple, able-bodied, disabled, we can survive – even if not always under our own steam but there are systems and processes in place (pretty much – there are always exceptions of course) for us to get by. Procreating the human race, now, is unnecessary – the world is extensively over-populated. People no longer ‘need’ to have babies. Oh, but what about keeping the family name going? Leaving a legacy in my children? Maintaining the gene-pool continuum? All very valid reasons for procreating but all very selfish too. If we want to conserve the planet, we should stop breeding for a while. Mother Nature, I believe, is trying hard to redress the balance – how many couples do you know of who have had problems conceiving? Mother Nature’s way of suggesting we find other ways to fulfil ourselves but instead we go for IVF! That aside, if relationships are no longer about survival or procreation, what then are they about? 

I think relationships are about love – pure and simple! But what is that? Ah, well now, that is the big question! I think love is about getting back to oneness (’one-ness’), which means that I can be totally at peace with who I am – and the role relationships play in that (all relationships not just love relationships but family, friends, colleagues – everyone!) is to hold a mirror up to me so that I get to really see who I am. At first it’s uncomfortable, ugly even, but after a while (a lifetime, maybe, of personal development and growth) if I can begin to fall in love with myself then I will – without even trying – be able to fall in love with everyone.

So, my abusive partner was reflecting that side of myself I have been neglecting so far. That side of me that can be manipulated, abused, controlled.  The low self-esteem, the total lack of attitude and assertion. Alongside that, he was also reflecting my steely independence, tenacity and strength that kept me fiercely independent and would not allow anyone to do anything for me and this provided him with something to chip at because it reflected his weakness and emotional neediness. In many ways I was weak: not blowing my own trumpet,  not standing up for what I believe in and not speaking out or asserting myself. But in other ways, I was incredibly strong to the point of (unconsciously) scaring people (most particularly men). For him, I was his mirror reflecting his belief that he would never be acceptable and the only way to get what he wanted, what he felt he was ‘entitled’ to was through a regime of bullying, control and abuse. But does this make abuse right? No! Of course not, but it doesn’t make it wrong either – it just is the way that it is (don’t ask me to explain this right now – I fear it’s more than a blog entry!). To perpetuate the attitude of: horrid abuser, nasty man – poor me, I’m a victim, is to keep things as they are. To change abuse and move beyond it in my relationships (thus ensuring I do not recreate it in the next one) demands that I transcend that attitude somehow. I end the trance (trance-end) by bringing a new awareness to it. For me it is about taking responsibility for bringing it into my life – wait a second! Not condoning it. This is not about blame. This is not the same as what he and his family were trying to do which was for me to believe that the abuse was my fault – not the same! NO! NO! NO! What I am advocating here is that I see that I chose to live this life lesson. I chose him for his mirror, for what he would reflect back at me so that I would get a chance to see it, become aware of it, feel it and then change it by (in my case) saying it’s not okay with me that you treat me that way so I am going – bye! And withdrawing myself from him, and thus, the situation. I see that by blaming him all this time has been keeping me in victim land. One finger pointing at him, and three at me! He has been my gift from God. Not in any wondrous way where I should get down on my knees and worship him. He is a bad man. He has is not an angel/gift. He has not done this consciously oh I will just manifest as a human abuser, which I know will be incredibly painful for me but I will do it for her – not like that. He has been my ‘gift from God’ in the same way that the grain of sand in the Oyster shell causes such permanent irritation, rubbing and rubbing away until – WOW – one day – a pearl appears. But it doesn’t happen with every Oyster (for every 1000 you open, you may only find 1 pearl). Why is that? Same as it is with humans I expect – some get it, some don’t. I know I have got this abuse thing now. It won’t happen again for me but I suspect my abusive partner is still the dud Oyster and will remain so because he hasn’t got it. Let’s hope I am wrong. 

So, relationships, now, are about growth and development – not survival and procreation. That’s how it should be but the conflict and confusion is happening because most people don’t understand this yet. Most people aren’t getting it! We are still trying to do relationships the old way – get married, breed, stay together forever, die and get buried in the family plot! I’m not saying there is anything wrong with that. It is absolutely the way many people would live as long as they are happen, fulfilled and in love. But for those of us who aren’t, we really should be asking ourselves why? And it may be that our development is in another direction.

 

The Kiss

This guy has come back into my life, having been out of it for the duration of my abusive marriage, and I’m not sure what to make of it. I’m into there being meaning to everything at the moment – nothing happens by accident. It’s all meant to be. And so everything has to have a meaning, or some higher purpose. Otherwise, what’s the point? What’s the point to any of this?

On the one hand, his appearance back on the horizon of my life has lifted me. He’s brought me joy this week because he’s been extremely attentive. It has done my self-esteem a lot of good. I’ve received emails almost daily and on the days I haven’t there have been phone calls. I’ve fallen asleep fantasising about how it would be to be together again, to melt into his arms and be held, to reconnect with whatever it is that bonds us. It fills me with love. And that’s a good feeling.

We’ve known each other since 1992 (17 years!) which makes him one of my longest running friendships. Although I hesitate to use the word ‘friendship’ because in many ways we are like acquaintances but in many others our relationship has been deeper and more touching than any I have known. Sometimes it feels like that ‘soulmate’ thing but yet there are aspects to it that get in the way of us being in a relationship together. For one, he’s married. I know I should dump him pronto, put it all down to a slight slip of the halo, one of life’s little mistakes and move on, never once uttering his name or thinking about him ever again. But that would be to deny what is going on, which I may at this stage understand little about but which is much bigger than the both of us and cannot be simply shut away in a box somewhere and put with all the other stuff that gets buried in the life garbage sack. “But what about his poor wife and family!!!?” Well, for one I am not a threat to them. Never have been. I don’t want him to leave her for me. I would rather he left her for him, if that is indeed his journey, at some stage or if their marriage came to a natural end for whatever reason and he feels he wants to move on.

If, at that stage, it’s right for us to be together then – great! If not, fine. So, don’t worry. I’m not a home wrecker and not about to become one. There’s an age difference of fifteen years (he’s older), which has never bothered me but I think it does him. I don’t see a 60-year old when I think of him. I see him and he could be 20 or 100! Some people show their age but to me he doesn’t because the connection between us is not just physical it’s spiritual and that’s ageless.

But the fact that he’s unavailable is interesting, there’s a pattern there for me. I have chosen a lot of men in my life who have been unavailable.

My father was unavailable, emotionally, for much of my childhood, older childhood in particularly. My soon-to-be-ex husband was unavailable that way too. In between times there have been numerous ‘unavailables’ I have gravitated towards. And, by the same token, there have been numerous ‘availables’ I have lost interest in pretty quickly because (I suspect) of the very fact that they are available.

And then there’s M (we’ll call him M, no particular reason, just the first thing that came into my head). When we first met, he was a client. I fell for him immediately. There was a real magnetism, for me at least. He was so much older but I found him so attractive. He seemed the direct opposite of my father; driven, ambitious and strong. He seemed, at the time, quite out of my league, something to aim for. Every time I saw him, my heart would (literally) skip a beat and I’d get all excited and fuzzy-headed and get all school-girl and inept all of a sudden, which wasn’t really like me. I’d catch myself saying stupid things in his company, things I would never say to anyone else, or things I meant to say would come out all wrong when normally I would be quite articulate. It got that it was impossible to concentrate when I was in his company. Not great when he was a client. I knew he was married; occasionally we would have downtime between company meeting and he would talk proudly of his family. I liked that, not that he was married but that he was a loving and doting dad (unlike mine). I didn’t ever think the fact that he was married would be a problem because (don’t forget) he was ‘out of my league’.

We didn’t start having an affair until years later, after I’d left the company. We stayed in touch, I can’t remember how or why but we did. All I can remember is that it was a mutual thing, he wanted to as much as me.

In the intervening years I did once have a dream about us together, making out. It was a proper dream, not an imagined fantasy. From then on, to me at least, he became ‘the man of my dreams’. The dream was very vivid and the reality (as it turned out) was not dissimilar. We didn’t have sex, however, until five years ago around the time of my 40^th birthday. We’d come quite close several times. What we had done, however, had been pretty hot and extremely seductive.

The sex itself wasn’t the passionate, free and spontaneous love-making of my dream but tinged with awkwardness and (I am guessing) regret (although not on my part). We only did it the once but rather than being the start of something I had hoped for it actually seemed to signify the end of our relationship as I’d known it up to then.  He went quiet and didn’t contact me for months. I’d got used to that. M had always been like that; either full on or nothing. I’d got used to getting my hopes up and letting my imagination run wild for a few weeks and then having to wrap all my fantasies back up in tissue again and put them away in the storage box until the next time he was ready. Yes, I know, he was very much in control of when and how much we saw of each other – and there goes another pattern in my life – the controlling male. Except in M’s case, it wasn’t like the same kind of control as my ex-husband. It didn’t make me feel squashed or undermined. If anything, I put it down to him taking charge and I liked that, so I let him.

But just after my 40^th birthday, my self—esteem was at such a low ebb. Dad and I had had a major bust up. He’d been really pissy and awkward that I had not had the sort of celebratory party he’d wanted me to have (a private, quiet, family doo). Instead I had organised a party for 40 close friends in our local village hall. I’d hired a Karaoke and disco and got caterers in. I was short of money, so Dad had offered (weeks before) to pay for something. I’d thanked him kindly and asked if he would pay for the Karaoke, which he agreed but then, the day before I went to collect it and had no money left in the bank, he changed his mind saying he didn’t like Karaoke and wouldn’t pay for it. I said I wish he had told me sooner and he told me that if I couldn’t afford to pay for things I shouldn’t get them! It meant I had to borrow the money from a friend to pay for the karaoke (thank God I have been blessed with great mates!). That, and the fact that there was a woman at the rowing club (of which I was a member) who’d taken a dislike to me and was making my time there miserable and this bloke (from the same place) who was giving me the run around. So, just after my birthday, my self-esteem was too low to deal with the ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’ attitude of the man of my dreams. He still occupied much of my thoughts but I resigned myself to the fact that our relationship had changed and I probably would not see him again. Then, of course, I met my husband who as we all know was looking for a vulnerable yet strong woman to ‘feed’ his habit – and the rest is history as they say!

During the good times, it hadn’t all been physical with M either – although that was the primary driver (I’ve never reacted like I did with him with any other man in my whole life. He could turn me on just by standing close!). We had good conversation too. That said, in the last seventeen years, we have hardly seen each other, yet every time we do it seems (clichéd as it sounds) like it was only yesterday! There’s no catching up, straight back in there where we left off and even though each of us has been through so much in our lives separate from each other, it seems like he and I are travelling along the same path together as spiritual beings in this human experience.

That brings me nicely to now…….

So, he calls me last week, just for a chat but it soon gets round to flirting. I like it. It makes me feel good. Brings back all the wonderful feelings of the past, our past. And after the call they stay with me and I’m off on this fantasy – again – of me and him together – again. Making love. But it feels different this time. It’s not that it’s not as nice, far from it, or that I want him any less. It’s just that I don’t need him anymore. There’s a very subtle but vast difference between wanting someone’s affection and needing it and I recognised this week that I still feel the same about the guy but I don’t need him anymore. It feels good, healthy. Gives me all the pleasure of being able to fantasise without the emotional neediness.

He wants to meet up but he’s not sure when. I understand, his business is suffering at the moment and life is a constant fire fight for him. I understand that. But he seems to forget that it’s like that for me too, in my situation. I am not so free as I was. I am having to work my ass off to pay £1000/$1600/month solicitors bills just to keep my ex from dragging me down into the shitty place he’s in right now – and I don’t mind paying if it means I keep control of my life and my finances from now on. So far it is working but it demands a lot of commitment and hard work. I also have a dog and I am not willing to just drop everything a leave him on his own in my house for 8-10 hours while I go off and indulge myself in great sex!

But then, what I’ve noticed with M too when he wants to meet up is that there are always a thousand other things he has to do first, people he has to satisfy or comply with before he can possibly, maybe, perhaps have some time for me. I am beginning to feel like I don’t deserve that kind of vagueness in my life anymore. I’m human too. I’m important too – leastways to me and I deserve to be put top of the list by someone just once in a while. M is not in a position to do that. I accept that. But is it okay with me? No. No, not really. Not anymore. But then, I cannot imagine my life without him.

So, then he says Thursday is a good day for us to meet up – but then he remembers his son is going to be around so we decide that is not such a good plan. I have met his son before, many years ago and we could explain it away (as we did then because it was true) that his father and I are work acquaintances and we both happened to be in the same part of the country so we decided to meet up. But his son is now a grown man and M and I have known each other for over 17 years and I don’t think he’d buy it. So, then M says Tuesday is the only other possibility but it looks likely he has a work commitment for dinner so probably not, but maybe. And there’s the vagueness again. There was a time, many years ago, when I would have travelled all the way down to where he was and hang around by myself just in case the possibility happened and then if it didn’t I would have come home disappointed but that is not me anymore. That’s way in the past. So, I say, Okay well never mind. There will be other times and he says well we’ll see.

Tuesday evening he calls me at 8:20pm, apparently his work thing didn’t materialise and he asks if I will get in the car and go down there. It’s only an hour, I’d be there at 9:30pm whereupon he’d have some Thai food waiting for me and …………he would have called earlier but the phone has been going none stop so he didn’t get the chance.

I thought about it. I really did. I was hugely tempted but then it just felt like the same old stuff all over again. The same old crumbs of love and affection I have been feeding off all my life and I have been living the consequences of the subsequent emotional malnourishment ever since. I thought about how fantastic it would be too see him again, to melt into his arms, make love, talk, be with each other, to touch him, hold him……………………………but then what? More of the same vagueness – when will I see you again – dunno, excuses – I’m really busy and then there’s the family, reasons why not – I can’t commit to you, I’ve got this family thing going on. He wanted me, I could tell by his voice, he wanted me so badly and when I said no and suggested that perhaps he try and give me more notice next time so I can prepare myself he goes all cold and “yeah, whatever” on me. I know it was disappointment but he could at least try and understand. Why does it all have to be about him?

After I put the phone down, I was so tempted to jump in the car and just go. But this higher part of me knew it was wrong and that I had actually – disappointing as it might have been for both of us – done the right thing. Stupidly, I expected to hear form him the very next day with a suggestion for a day next week when we can meet up, which gives me plenty of time to ‘prepare’ (that is the other thing men do not understand – we women need to prepare for these things physically. It may seem trivial but it’s important to feel confident and making sure I look my best). But I get nothing but phone, email and text – silence! Having phoned, emailed and texted me – every day for about ten days, now there is nothing.

I think I know what this is about, but I am still not sure. As I have mentioned, I am reading about Radical Forgiveness and I know that this is all part of my journey (his journey too but this is my blog, it’s about me!). It is part of what I need to complete and forgive in order to diffuse the energy of that ‘not deserving love’ thing of mine and  ‘not deserving the best’. But this one is a biggy and (unlike the sheep episode with the dog the other day) it may take some time. Whether M is around for the whole of that process or not, I don’t know. Whether our relationship changes as a result of my going through that process or not, I don’t know. Whether we end up fulfilling our fantasy one last time or even forever, or whether he disappears out of my life completely, I’ve no idea but really none of that matters. What matters is that I am willing to go through this and start accepting that I do deserve love – and lots of it from (in my case) a man and whether that man is M or not, well…………………………………

Some of you reading this may well be talking to yourselves about the one thing I have mentioned little, which is his wife. His poor wife. What about her? Well, indeed, what about her? I hate that I am the sort of person who does this. I hate being an adulterer! It does not make me feel proud or good about myself. The fact that it goes on, with millions of couples all over the planet does not make it any easier to accept either. Has my relationship with her husband hurt her? It would be easy to say – no, not at all because she doesn’t even know about it but I don’t know that for sure and not only that it is out there in the ether and she will be picking up on it somehow. Even if it is not consciously, even if it is just through the irritation in her husband’s voice as he walks through the door this weekend or that he is behaving distantly. It’ll be getting through somehow. And it has been done to me, I know how it feels. None of this makes it right on any level. Except that it gives me another opportunity for forgiveness. This time, forgiving myself.

There are so many things I need to work on radically forgiving. So many people I need to let go of and forgive, radically, including myself. I have much work to do. But I know it will take me to a place where I can then begin to manifest positively the things and conditions in life I really want. That’s why I believe I am not a threat to M’s wife. I don’t want what she has: the solid marriage to a wonderful man, the large house, the active and full social life, the loving family, the success – none of it! And that’s a lie because I do want all of those things. But it’s also a lie too because I really have no idea if she has all that. I am just guessing that she does, it’s my perception that she does but reality might be that she doesn’t or even (ironically) that she does but she doesn’t want it, she wants something else! I think what would be really smart here is to acknowledge that I really (we none of us really) has any clue what’s going on because we make it all up anyway. This whole thing – life – it’s all made up fantasy. Oh yeah, I pretend I know what’s going on and so do lots of other people but the truth is we don’t. And therein lies the miracle! If we don’t have a clue what is going on, then we can make it up anyway we choose. And that’s great because that gives me control over the outcome of every area of my life – in the relationships I have with everything and everyone – people, money, my relationship to the planet – everything!

So, now there is silence. No phone calls, emails, texts – nothing. And I don’t know if that is because he is disappointed, confused or perhaps he just doesn’t really care for me that much but then if that were the case, what have the past 17 years been about? I cannot help thinking though, that if I had jumped in my car, abandoned the dog on Tuesday night and gone down and stayed with him that it would have been the same, that there would have been nothing but silence and regret (on his part).

I could write his story too but I’d be making it up. I think I know his story but I really don’t. All I do know with any certainty is mine. I can only guess at his and what would be the point of that?

The great thing about all this though is how my feelings have changed and moved on into a whole lot healthier place. It used to be that this intense pursuing, leading to a night of passion and then complete silence would throw me into a thought spiral that would ultimately lead to depression (albeit temporary) out of which I would drag myself by becoming resentful and bitter about M pretending to myself well I didn’t like him that much anyway. But I don’t see it that way anymore and I don’t feel that way either. I don’t get depressed when he doesn’t call me. It just is the way that it is. I get on with my life, filling it with good things and people who can give me the feast of love I so want and deserve. Perhaps that’s why I am running out of room in my life for M.

But for M and I, I don’t think it is about being together 24/7. I don’t think it has ever been about that. I watched one of my favourite movies on TV yesterday: The Bridges of Madisson County, in which an Italian housewife, married to a farmer from Ohio becomes romantically linked to a photographer from National Geographic for four summer days. Not only does she discover her passion that has lain dormant for all the years she has devoted herself to her husband and kids but they discover this deep spiritual connection, a certainty about which only ever happens once in a lifetime. There are some great lines in the film and I get totally lost in it. It’s the only film I have ever seen in which Merril Streep and Clint Eastwood disappear for me and become these characters. One of my favourite lines is where Robert Kincaid (Eastwood) says to Frances (Streep): “It feels like everything I’ve ever done in my whole life, every trip I have ever taken has been bringing me here, to you.” But they never do get together beyond those four days. She chooses to honour her commitments to her family because she knows that the guilt she would carry with her if she left them to be with him would destroy every ounce of what they had. She stays with her family and buries all of her memories of those four days in a box in the house along with (at a later date) his things which upon his death he has requested be sent to her. The saddest and yet most joyful part of that film for me is at the end upon her death when she (even though she is Roman Catholic) requests a cremation so that her ashes can be thrown from Rosamund Bridge, the start of it all and the place where his ashes had been scattered some years earlier. She says in a letter to her kids (who are by now adults): “I have given my whole life to you and your father, now I want Robert to have what is left of me.” It’s a beautiful story and chimes so much with M and I’s own. I used to hope (but I am now not so sure) that we are actually meant to ‘be together’ forever more. I don’t think that is what it is about for us. Or maybe it is – I don’t know.

Moreover, we are on this spiritual journey together and that’s as it should be. Where it takes us and what happens to us or what choices we are going to have to face along that journey, I’ve no idea but that doesn’t matter. What matters is how we face each day and what we do with those choices and how that enables each of us to grow closer to God, that’s what really matters.

 

Michael Jackson 1958-2009

God bless you Michael. May you rest in peace and may your music live on. You were five years older than me and when you were at your height (1978-87) I wasn’t paying much attention. Wish I had. Interestingly, the music I was paying attention to has all but disappeared (except U2 – my all time favourite band) but yours has endured. I love Earth Song. It’s true, the Earth has a cancer – it’s called the Human Race! 

I had a dream about you once: we were both trying to help each other escape. I’ll never forget. I’m not done here yet but when I am, I hope you’ll be waiting.

 

I want to talk about forgiveness, again. But I’ll do that in a later post. Reason I mention it is that it is relevant to what happened to me this morning and what this post is about and it is also relevant to what is going on with me in general. I am reading this great book (which a very good friend lent me after it screamed at me out of 600 other books on her well-stocked shelves): Radical Forgiveness by Colin Tipping. It states on the back cover: this book will change your life – yeah right! They all say that don’t they! Wow! Hey – I’m only halfway through, and sceptical as I was, believe me – it’s true. More about that later. Back to today and what happened this morning:

Well, I took the dog for a walk as usual, through a field of sheep – so I kept him on the leash (as I do) until we reached the other side and went safely through the gate. Fine. On the way back, he was a few yards in front of me (nothing unusual in that) and I was day-dreaming and I didn’t notice that some of the little sheep had gotten through a hole in the hedge and were in the field the dog and I were in. Well, he sees them and starts giving chase (because that’s what dogs do). There was no aggression, he just thought they were to play with. Most of them squeezed back through the hole except one and he jumps up at it and brings it to the floor (no teeth just 100lb of Labrador was enough to floor it). Hearing the ‘ruckus’ brings me out of my day-dream and I shout at him to “COME” and he comes straight away and I put him on the lead. The sheep stays on the floor where it fell. Oh jesus! He’s killed it! I moved closer but didn’t want to go up to it with him on the lead for fear of scaring it even more (if it was still alive). I could see that it’s eyes were open and it was breathing but no other movement. There were no teeth marks, no blood. He hadn’t actually attacked it, just played rough like he does with other dogs.

I felt terrible, guilty, panicked, sad, 1) because I love animals – all animals and I hate it when they get injured – especially when I feel responsible and 2) Especially as I had not been paying attention and had been day-dreaming. I was convinced the sheep was dying. It looked in a bad way. I started having a chaotic conversation with myself in my head. What should I do? One option was to leave it there in the hope it would be okay and pretend like nothing happened but I couldn’t do that. It felt like a bad thing. The other option was to run across the field to the farmer’s house and tell him what had happened. From where I was, I could see his wife in the garden hanging up washing. She was too far away to have seen what happened but she was close enough to do something about it. I started to run towards her. Then the thought in my head said but what if the farmer reports you? They might insist the dog is put down!! What if it gets round the village that the new girl, with the golden Labrador, let it kill one of farmer x’s sheep?! But I couldn’t do nothing. I couldn’t let the animal die in pain – just couldn’t. I just had to trust that what I was doing would work out okay.

I got to where the wife was, out of breath and hot. I started to tell her what had happened. It came out in a muddled mess of pieces of the story: my dog………. jumped on the sheep…………… lying down in a bad way……………….I’ll run home and get my car…………….take it to the vets.

To my surprise she didn’t look too concerned, except that she made me feel even worse when she said oh yes, those are my pet lambs. Oh jesus! Make me feel really bad!! I then said, I’ll take him home (meaning the dog) and I’ll come back. Okay, she said and then added nonchalantly actually, I’ve got to go out now for about 20 minutes but I’ll be back later. Blimey, I thought. She’s not bothered.

Then I set off to run home, feeling like the shittiest person on the planet, the same as I felt the time I ran over someone’s dog that was not on a lead and had followed its owner across the road but at the last minute turned back and came straight under my car. And the time a couple of years ago when I was walking the dog into town next to the main road to get him used to the traffic noise (he was a puppy then) and as I approached a level crossing a little boy who was standing next to me just decided to run out in front of the traffic. He was hit by a car, thrown ten feet in the air and landed on his head. I was convinced he was dead but miraculously he survived. The fact that it happened right in front of me made me feel somehow responsible. Maybe it was because I came and stood next to him with the dog and got him over excited. Anyway, I blamed myself. Or the time when I was a kid and got blamed for hiding a knife in a gym mat at school (which I did not do) or pushing Rosemary Fluker over in the yard (which I also didn’t do). Or the many millions of times I felt responsible for my father’s depression and alcoholism. I was right there again this morning, like a child again – being blamed. All this was going on in my head as I was running home. But at the same time, something else was going on. Another voice, much older, more grown up. This one was saying now you have an opportunity here to do the right thing but at the same time don’t allow yourself to be undermined or blamed or taken advantage of or treated unfairly. Offer to pay any vets fees or (God forbid) reimburse them for the lamb if that is the outcome but don’t allow them to treat you like a second-class citizen who is irresponsible and did it on purpose. Remember, the sheep had strayed out of its field and the farmer had not made necessary repairs to his fence to contain his animals. So, s/he is just as responsible.

I got the dog inside the house. He was quite shaken up, could sense my tension and was upset but couldn’t really understand what he had done. I was gentle but decided the lamb was more in need than the dog right now. I ran back to the field and could see that the farmer’s son was at the gate where the incident took place. It looked like he was pacing up and down on the other side of the hedge. This does not look good I told myself. Please god, please, I kept praying. Please let the lamb be okay. As I approached, he looked across at me and instead of being angry (as I’d expected) he was actually quite pleasant. Where did you say it was when you last saw it? He enquired. Just down there I said pointing to an empty patch of brown earth in a gap in the crop. It was lying there, I said, half dead. It looked in a bad way. Well it’s not there now, he said. Must have got up and walked away because all the lambs are there. I’ve counted. There are fourteen and that’s how many we had yesterday. My heart sang. I could feel the relief like it was a healing robe being placed over my head and pulled down over the rest of me. Thank you God. Thank you God for answering my prayers. I said how sorry I was, that if there were any repercussions I would happily pay any vets bills but I also, very gently, pointed out the hole in the fence which he promised to repair.

As I walked back toward home I really felt like something marvellously healing had occurred. It felt like the whole event had happened on purpose, that each ‘being’ (human and animal) had played a willing (but unconscious) part in the whole process of me getting to heal the wounds of my past in terms of feeling that anything bad that happens is my fault. It really felt like I had handled this differently. I had faced up to what had happened and had not run away from my responsibilities (which would have been so easy) and yet I had also done it in a grown-up, responsible way. It felt good – feels good. I shall hold on to this forever.

It was most especially healing at this time because of what went on in my abusive marriage whereby my partner always made out that everything that went wrong and every bad mood he was in was my fault. No matter what I did, I got the blame. He would take a course of action based on a poor decision, I would gently point out that I did not agree with his course of action (like invoicing clients for work we had not actually done) and he would retort by saying he was doing it in the best interests of the business, trying to get us out of financial difficulties, that I NEVER supported him and I was putting him under INTENSE pressure because of that. So, I would shut up and go along with it. Then, when it all went wrong and blew up in our faces he would blame me for that saying it was the way I dealt with clients and allowed them to take advantage that was at fault and it was my fault we were in dept. I had four years of this and after four years I guess it becomes engrained. Today has been a great opportunity for me to change the energy around that forever. I bless the poor lamb for what it put itself through to enable me to do this. And my dog for being willing to play his part. And myself, of course, for acknowledging what was happening and dealing with it.

Today, I want to write about what it’s like to be the victim in an abusive relationship being accused of being a perpetrator of violence against one’s own perpetrator, about the guilty feelings and how that, in itself, silences any idea of complaining – to the authorities – to anyone! It has taken me a while to come to terms with my own violence in my abusive relationship but over time (being out of the situation) I have developed a healthy understanding and I feel ready to disclose without fear of accusation or retribution.

The guilt I felt about the anger and violence I discharged on my husband during our three-year marriage was a major cause of concern for me. I felt guilty for a long time and he knew it. He knew just how to make me react like a scared puppy whose owner arrives home to a littered house. The dog hasn’t done anything wrong (wasn’t his fault he was left too long) but because it can smell the irritation on its owner and interpret the angry facial expression, it adopts a guilty stance. That was me; every time he spat: “but you hit me too” I adopted that guilty puppy stance – because he was right – I had! But what I was too traumatised to acknowledge (and he wouldn’t admit) was the difference between the reason I did it and the reason he did it, which made the accusation of me being a perpetrator completely wrong and unjustified.

My husband claims I have attacked him numerous times during our marriage; that I subjected him to extreme violence and aggression, that I beat him, threw things at him, yelled and screamed abuse at him and so on. I have given him cause to make those accusations, but I have never attacked him.

He has subjected me to a sustained campaign of abuse, intimidation, manipulation, bullying, violence, aggression and so on. The first time I reported him to the Police, the officer asked me “have you hit him?” to which I replied “yes” because I had. He said that as far as the Police were concerned it would be very difficult, in that case, to ‘prove’ any crime against me by my husband because it would be his word against mine. He predicted a counter claim.

Firstly, please bear in mind that by this stage I had endured dozens of attacks, violence, bullying (and all the other aforementioned) from my husband before I even went to the Police in the first place. I do not say that to justify my actions but to paint a true picture of the situation. Also, whereas I hit my husband with open hands (and I am not a fighter nor trained in any form of combat, martial arts or self-defence), my husband used a weapon against me, a walking stick mostly. Does that make me any less guilty than him? Well, yes, I believe it does – and here’s why:

I didn’t ‘attack’ my husband as he claims. I did not use violence against him in a premeditated, intentionally harmful manner. I, either, used violence to defend myself against his violence towards me or in response to his intimidation, bullying, anger, manipulation etc., etc. There is a huge difference and it’s what makes one person the perpetrator and the other the victim, in my view. My husband’s actions (whatever motivation lay behind them) were designed to ‘do me in’, belittle me, undermine me, hurt me, control me, manipulate me, and so on. My actions were intended to stop the situation, stop him doing all those things to me, end the violence, stop the abuse. It was never about doing those things to him. I can honestly say, hand-on-heart, that I never attacked him with the sole intention of hurting him or harming him in any way. Therefore, I believe, I have never attacked him – full stop! I have got angry and yelled and screamed in the hope that it would show him that he could not treat me that way and shut him up but I have never actually set out to ‘do him in’ – even when it could have been called justifiable ‘revenge’. Even now, going through the divorce and separation of the business interests (during which, as you can imagine, he is still employing his tactics) none of my actions is motivated by any need, want or desire to do him in. All of my actions are designed, intentionally, to show him (and everyone else involved) that I will not be bullied, manipulated, undermined and so on and so forth. They are also intended to limit the damage that could be caused to both of us through his negligent pig-headedness.

I often wondered, when he had driven me almost to breaking point and I was standing in front of him, fists clenched, purple in the face from screaming, two inches away from his face, why he never showed any fear.

I would have, and I did when he did it to me – I tried to get away from him as quickly as I could. But he didn’t once try and run away from me. He told his parents that I scared him, but it didn’t make sense because you don’t hang around people who scare you – and he did. He’d stay right there and keep pushing – push, push, push, hoping that I’d really lose it and run him through with a knife or something so he would have something really serious he could accuse me of but I never did. He knew I never would and that’s why he wasn’t scared. He had nothing to be scared of because I wasn’t out to do him in – unlike him.

I have mentioned this before but the most predominant emotion I felt throughout the whole of my marriage was anger. I used to feel angry 90% of the time (the other 10% I felt depressed, which is the same – anger turned inwards, I have since read). He accused me of being out of control, said I was a thug and told his parents that I got angry with him and hit him. His father told me I had a problem with anger and should go and seek anger management counselling – so I did! So desperate was I to make our marriage work that I believed him. I was prepared, at the time, to do anything to make it work and so I arranged to go for counselling (even though I was of the view that it was my husband who had the anger problem).

I disclosed everything to the counsellor. I told him about our marriage and the problems we were having. I told him about my husband and myself and told him how much I loved him and wanted to make it work and that I hadn’t even realised I had a problem with anger until my father-in-law had mentioned it, whereupon I’d thought maybe he had a point.

Having listened to me talk about all this for a whole hour, the counsellor (who was standing to make around £600 out of me if I took the course), turned to me and said: “I don’t think you have an anger problem. From what you have told me, I think your anger is a justifiable response to unreasonable behaviour from your husband and that for the most part you have it under control.”

It was then I began to realise that if I wanted to move away from anger and violence, I had to move away from our marriage.

Having been separated from my husband for almost a year, I now know this to be true. I cannot think of one single time I have been angry or felt prolonged outrage since (except once or twice when I have had to deal with him).

When is violence justified?

I also do not feel guilty anymore about defending myself against his regime. I feel justified. I have often thought about the question: when is violence justified? I guess every head of state in world has asked themselves that self same question before declaring war on their neighbours.

Being a peaceful person at heart, I find it hard to justify any. I am certainly not a supporter of war or violence in any shape or form, but having lived through four years of an abusive relationship, I can understand why victims display violence and anger too. But I have also come to realise that, as with war, it doesn’t actually solve or achieve anything and in that sense it is not the answer. It doesn’t stop the abuse or violence from the perpetrator nor does it shut up their verbal attacks and emotional undermining. If anything, it feeds their campaign and it does this in three ways:

1) Whilst the victim is being angry and violent, they are giving their power away to the perpetrator and thus, unwittingly, putting them in a position of power and control (which is exactly what the perpetrator wants).

2) It feeds the perpetrator ammunition with which to sustain their campaign of accusation and undermining.

3) It gives the victim a sense of powerlessness and thus makes them feel bad about themselves, which ultimately undermines their confidence and self-esteem, which is already at a low ebb – again, what the perpetrator wants.

Most people I have talked to are of the opinion my actions were justified, that I had been pushed beyond the boundaries of self-restraint to a place where I had no option. Now, that may be so, but it doesn’t stop me from wishing I hadn’t done it, wishing I could have been more composed, able to ‘turn the other cheek’ and not have been pushed into a reaction. But I did and I was and so I have to live with that. But I take comfort from the fact that, for me, anger is not a problem merely an emotion.

I reckon domestic abuse (of one form or another) has been going on in marriages and intimate or family relationships since the millennia. What makes me say this? Well, the number of women I meet, older women usually, who say: “Oh, yeah. My husband was like that but I just put up with it. We stayed together until the kids left home and then I left him ‘cos I’d had enough.” I reckon loads of women out there (who have left marriages) were in abusive relationships and didn’t even know it. They knew it felt bad, perhaps even had an inkling it was wrong but didn’t know what they could do about it or that they didn’t deserve it, so they just ‘put up with it’.

When I look back through my life and think about everyone I know who has separated or got divorced, I think it is likely there was some form of abuse going on for them to have left and in the majority of cases it was the woman who was being abused. Why do you suppose more men have second or multiple marriages than women? I’ll tell you: because if a woman has been married for a long time and endured abuse and she then plucks up the enormous courage required to leave him and go solo, she then discovers how good her life can be lived on her own terms, lived freely and without compromise and she thinks – why the hell would I want to risk losing all this and go and be someone’s ‘wife’ again?!! The abusive partner, on the other hand (who in this example is a man) thinks – right, got to find my next victim, my next ‘house-keeper’, slave, substitute mummy!

The time is right for really creating awareness about abuse, what it is, what it does to people (victim and perpetrator) so that it cannot go undercover anymore, so that it is no longer a ‘taboo’ subject and so that people will feel okay about coming forward and saying: “NO! That is not okay!” When I was young, a woman being slapped on the bottom by an amorous boss had to just keep shstum. Sex discrimination didn’t exist – and it’s not that long ago (I’m not that old!). Now, the majority of workers understand the boundaries in that sense. We need to do the same for abuse – in all its forms. Make people aware so that we can, globally, begin to change our habits around it and it becomes as unacceptable as drink-driving and child abuse and the perpetrators have few places to hide.

 

Commitment

When I was in my abusive marriage (and before I realised it wasn’t ‘normal’, that it was abusive) I used to think I had a problem with commitment. I’ve always been independent, not in any pig-headed, selfish way but because I had to grow up fast when I was a kid. I was being my own parent from about age 8 when my mum was having to work really hard to pay the bills Dad couldn’t afford because of his mounting debts and he was too ‘depressed’ to bother with the kids. He used to stay in his study most of the time he was home, drinking. So, I have always been able to take care of myself and when it came to marriage, I kept on doing it. I’d never been married before so I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know what a ‘normal’ marriage was – except what I had gleaned from those around me, my brother, friends and so forth. 

So when the abuse began (pretty early on in our marriage) and I started getting this feeling like I don’t want to be in this I put it down to my independence and inability to ‘commit’ to a relationship. My abusive partner of course sensed this from things I’d revealed (or rather, he’d winkled out of me) about my past and he was only too willing to exploit it. He kept telling me: “You’re scared of commitment.” I was so confused, vulnerable and scared that I believed him which of course made me stay and ‘work at being a committed wife’, which is exactly what he wanted. I did this whilst every ounce of my inner knowing, intuition, self-preservation – call it what you will – was screaming “GET THE HELL OUT”. But I kept thinking about all the people I knew who had put up with crap in their relationship and made huge compromises because they were ‘committed’ (like my mum, my brother, friends – almost everyone I knew). I felt guilty whenever I thought about leaving because it was like well they’re sticking with it so I should too. Except of course they weren’t having to endure the kind of stuff I was having to endure. Their niggles and irritants within their relationships were the ‘normal’ stuff of marriages, stuff that can drive you mad and make or break the relationship but not the sort of stuff designed deliberately to destroy the other person like abuse is. That’s the difference. And I was in it – wanting to get out – but desperately trying to honour my vows at the same time. 

When I look around me now and think about my life I realise that I DO NOT have a problem with commitment. I have, and am, committed to many things such as my job, paying rent on my house, taking care of my dog, my friends and family – loads of things that demand that I stick with them through thick and thin but also bring me great joy. I also know that when I am ready and I meet someone worthy of my love and affection I will be committed to that relationship too. Commitment does not mean allowing yourself to be destroyed by someone else. Commitment is about sharing a journey with someone you love and rising above the obstacles that are the niggles and irritations to a place where you are high enough to be reminded of the wonderfulness of who they are and who you married and that I do not have a problem with.

I read with interest on the BBC News website an article quoting Marks and Spencer Chairman Sir Stuart Rose speaking to the Observer newspaper. In the interview he is quoted as saying: “women never had it so good” in the workplace, that the so-called ‘glass ceiling’ barring promotion no longer exists and that “women can get to the top of any single job that they want to in the UK”. 

He is also quoted as saying: “Apart from the fact that you’ve got more equality than you ever can deal with, the fact of the matter is that you’ve got real democracy and there are really no glass ceilings, despite the fact that some of you moan about it all the time.” And:

“I mean, what else do you want to do, for God’s sake? Women astronauts. Women miners. Women dentists. Women doctors. Women managing directors. What is it you haven’t got?”

Well, how about real equality Sir Stuart, that would be a start. 

I don’t want to be top dog in an organisation because a man put me there – as a token gesture to tick the box that says ’show that you are an equal opportunities employer’. I don’t want to have to ‘do it like a man’ just to compete on an even playing field. I don’t want to be looked down upon as a second class citizen if I choose to stick to traditionally female roles like stay-at-home motherhood, nursing, secretarial work, cleaning, cooking (men are Chefs women are cooks!! Same effing thing to me except that cooks don’t get paid the same as Chefs!!!). I want men to get it, really really get it – THAT YOU DON’T RULE THE FUCKING WORLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sir effing Stuart – put that in your pipe and smoke it!!!!!