It’s not like he hits me or anything

It’s not like he hits me or anything

I remember these words coming from my mouth when I was trying to express to those around me how I was feeling about a relationship that I was in.
What I was really saying was that I don’t have a bruise to show you as proof of what I’m going through, but there is a problem that I’m having difficulty putting a label on, I knew something wasn’t right, but I thought it was just a string of different challenges within the relationship that seemed to go from one story to the next. I was far too intrenched in the dysfunction to clearly see the gradual spiral downward let alone recognise the red flags.

Anytime I would catch up with my friends, it was spent unpacking the various stories of what was going on with my then partner to get their perspective, it was as if I was desperate for someone to diagnose who was right and who was wrong so I could get it straightened up in my own head.

Soon, our catch ups became less and less frequent, no doubt they were tired of hearing the same stories over and over. For every solution they had such as leave him, or give him an ultimatum, I presented a reason why I couldn’t yet.

It had started out like a love story, lots of compliments, lots of him prioritising me, driving ages to see me, messages first thing in the morning, and last thing at night. It felt flattering, and safe, and that I was the centre of his universe. But we were like rubber bands, the more I’d pull, the more he would push away, so I’d instinctively push away, to which he would then pull. Upon reflection, the signs of power and control were actually there from the early days.
He would turn his phone off in the middle of an argument knowing full well I would get in my car and drive over there all fired up wanting answers, that’s when he would cry, see an error in his ways, apologise for being such an ar*sehole, and we would end up in the bedroom making up. I couldn’t see my role in what I had just allowed. I couldn’t see the stages in the typical “cycle of abuse” because I was right in it.

He went from what appeared to be an open book, to taking his phone to the toilet and sleeping with it under his pillow. I went from being the fun new girlfriend to a suspicious nagging cow. I would argue if he had nothing to hide why was his phone never left alone in my presence? He would argue a relationship should be built on trust and that I was paranoid and perhaps the one with the problem.

I remember being in a line at video ezy where we were getting a DVD to watch. I didn’t have my purse with me but had $10 in my car that I’d put in my pocket. It was a rainy Sunday afternoon, and the line was long. When I got to the end the staff said I had late fees from my last hire, the DVD hire was $7, so I asked if I could just pay $3 off my late fees, and fix the rest up next time?
The teenager at the counter shook his head, no sorry, it’s our policy now that all late fee’s have to be paid in full before you can rent a movie again. I tried to negotiate some further with the kid at the counter, and he wouldn’t budge. People in the long line behind me were getting annoyed. Can you just fix the $14 up I asked my boyfriend, I’ll give it to you when we get home? No, he replied, you are the one that bought it back late, you have to pay it. I will, I said to him through gritted teeth, when we get home! A guy in the line yelled out I’ll give you the fu**king $14 seriously, can you hurry up? I wanted the ground to open up. That’s fine said my boyfriend, we won’t get the DVD then, and he stormed out of the store. I had never felt so humiliated, I could feel the heads shaking at me from behind, as I put my hand to my forehead and walked out in total shame. That incident resulted in us breaking up again, and then making up. I justified the whole thing by saying all relationships have their spats, no one is perfect, it was not a big enough deal to end an entire relationship over. I tried to justify it in my head by saying it was the first time he had acted like that about money with me.

As time went on, more and more of the same unfolded, but each time it was slightly different, and it was gradually escalating.
His phone had rung while he was in the shower, the name “Trav” flashed up, he had never mentioned anyone called Trav, my intuition kicked into overdrive, so I answered it, it was a girl. I asked her how she knew him, I’ve been seeing him on and off over the past 3 months she told me, is this his roommate “Renee” she asked? What? Roommate? No, what are you talking about, he doesn’t have a roommate, I’m Renee his girlfriend. There was complete silence on the other end of the line, for what seemed like a lifetime, when she said… that is not what he told me, at which point he got out the shower, saw me on his phone, and all hell broke loose as he snatched it off me bumping my lip really hard with the phone.
He demanded an apology for me picking up his phone and “betraying him” the way I had while he was in the shower. The focus was on me and what I had done. He swore on his mother’s life, this girl was just someone he had taken out for dinner when we were on one of our ‘breaks’ and told me if I left him he saw no point to keep living.
We sat on the edge of the bed where I held an ice pack on my lip from the ‘accident’. I knew I had to leave. But he had never threatened to end his own life before, I didn’t think he would go through with it, but if he did, I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself. I felt stuck between a rock and a hard place.

The problems continued to get more serious more layered and more complex. So I booked us in for counselling because I wanted a third person to point out to him what he was doing. I didn’t know which way was up or which way was down anymore. I couldn’t see the forest for the trees. My mind felt scrambled.
We each had individual sessions, and then sessions as a couple. I thought a professional could show him the light. Explain to him what he was doing to me.
In my sessions I would list dozens upon dozens of things that had happened, until one day the Counsellor said to me in my private session, you know the problem is you Renee? I will never forget those words. I sat there in shock.

Me I gasped, as my heart starting pounding through my chest.. Me? Are you serious?!!!!
She said I do not doubt a single word that you have told me about this man, not a single word, but you are the one that is enabling his behaviour by staying, the biggest problem you have is actually yourself right now. I broke down and uncontrollably sobbed.
I finally made the decision to leave him, something had shifted in me.
We sat down and had what seemed like a mature conversation about going our separate ways and I then left.

He messaged me later that afternoon that he had left something in my car he needed for work, and could I drop it over as he had been drinking and he really needed it. I identified this immediately as being an attempt to lure me back into the ‘negotiation phase’ a step I had identified in therapy as part of the cycle of abuse. Yet still I told myself this was one last thing so that all contact could end for good.
I drove over to where he was staying.
And an argument broke out, it was if he could sense that I was really was done with him for real this time.
He was blind drunk and said he was going to get into his car and do something I would regret. I sat in the driveway refusing him to back out in that state, he squeezed me so tight to lift me up that two of my ribs broke.
I got in my car and drove straight to the doctor for a scan. They confirmed my ribs were broken.
I was in agony, yet I felt a sense of relief, because I knew I’d never go back.
Broken ribs were a wound I could show with x rays, it was the ‘something tangible’ that was the turning point for me to start the road to loving myself again. It wasn’t the lies, cheating, financial abuse, or one humiliating thing after the other, that ended things. It was the physical abuse that was the final deal breaker for me.

It was the one thing that happened that started a list of services reaching out to help me, but if the truth be told, the internal wounds of the emotional abuse were far more agonising than the broken ribs that seemed to harness so much empathy.

If there is anything I could share with my fellow women out there, is that just because you aren’t being physically abused, doesn’t mean you aren’t being wounded. Emotional abuse more often than not will escalate to physical violence, usually within the first 3 weeks of you leaving a toxic relationship.

The women that are dying every single week didn’t all think it would take their death for the abuse to end.

Don’t try to work out why they are abusing, that’s not your concern.
Your concern is you,  and working out the safest and fastest exit strategy you can.

My end point was broken ribs, ask yourself what is your end point ? What’s the dealbreaker for you ?

Please share this with your girlfriends, your sisters, your colleagues, who may be suffering in silence with their invisible wounds.

You are so much more than a statistic.