I’m Fifty Years Old and in the First Healthy Relationship of My Life
By: Alecia Kennedy
Tags: Culture, Abuse, Society, Safety, Relationships

My first boyfriend in high school turned out to be a master of emotional manipulation. Unfortunately, by the time I met him at fourteen, I was already practiced in the skill of not upsetting men and avoiding confrontation at any cost.

At the slightest indication that my boyfriend was unhappy with my behavior, I would do whatever I could to smooth things over. He used angry outbursts and eventually, physical violence to get his way. No matter what I did, I couldn’t make him happy, and his control over me grew until I was forced to sneak away from my own home and obtain a restraining order. When I was finally out from under that relationship, I thought I knew the warning signs of an abusive relationship. I thought I would do better next time.

And I did in some respects. My next serious relationship started four years later with a chance meeting at the beach. The warning signs I knew to look out for were not there. The beach guy didn’t fly off the handle at the least provocation. He didn’t use physical violence to get his way. He didn’t try to control where I went or what I did. I thought I was safe.

But he used other, more insidious tactics to maintain control. These tactics confused me, but I didn’t equate them with control or manipulation at first. My boyfriend did not use anger to alter my behavior and he did not pout when he didn’t get his way. But he would cancel plans on me at the last minute and he would accept casual invitations to go out with friends when he hadn’t seen me all week.

Once he stopped to have a beer with an acquaintance without telling me after I had been on a business trip and hadn’t seen him in days. He was three hours late to my house. He wasn’t sure why I was angry.

He let me know by subtle remarks and actions that I wasn’t really important to him, while simultaneously telling me I was the best girlfriend he had ever had. The first time we spent the weekend at his parents’ house, he felt the need to tell me that everyone he dated had done the same. When he accompanied me to a class reunion early in our relationship, he reassured me it was no big deal. I cooked Thanksgiving dinner for his parents at my house — so what? That’s nothing. He told me he was buying a house but wouldn’t let me go with him to view properties. Later I realized it was because he didn’t see me in his future.

I was on edge during the last few months of our relationship. I didn’t know where I stood with him. He kept me guessing until the day he refused to take me to the airport and headed out of town to spend the weekend with an ex-girlfriend. He then broke up with me over the phone while I was a thousand miles away on a business trip.

My trust and faith in men were so broken at that point that I honestly didn’t believe I would ever be in a serious relationship again. It took an entire year before I was healed from my heartache and even then I didn’t feel completely whole. I decided that I was finished with opening up with people. I was finished with trust. I would simply date for fun and companionship but I would never let someone get past my tough facade.

But then I met the man who would become my second husband.

I had moved back to Kentucky for a job and was finding it difficult to find interesting people to date. He was polite and soft-spoken — such a difference from the northern transplants I had become accustomed to dating in Florida. He opened my doors and bought my drinks. We had fun together. He had two children and I found myself enjoying playing the part of the fun aunt.

I believe that until we completely learn an important life lesson, we will keep attracting the people and circumstances that are necessary to teach us that lesson.

He was the first person I had dated in the seven years since my divorce who wasn’t scared of a commitment. He was searching for stability and found it in our relationship. Within four months we were living together and within a year we were married. I thought I could be my full and true self with him. I thought I had finally found someone who was okay with me just the way I was. I was wrong but I found out too late. By that time, I had trusted him enough to have a baby.

I believe that until we completely learn an important life lesson, we will keep attracting the people and circumstances that are necessary to teach us that lesson. With my second husband, the need for control did not initially show up in the form of verbal or physical abuse nor did it show up in the guise of making me feel unimportant or inadequate.

This time, the abuse was even more subtle and harder for me to recognize. It came in the form of a quiet dissatisfaction with everything in our lives. If I kissed him, it wasn’t passionate enough. If we went on vacation, the kids didn’t express enough gratitude or didn’t have enough fun. If I cleaned the house, he could have done it better. If we had friends over, he would disappear midway through the evening because he was bored. If I suggested a quiet night at home, he would find a reason to go out and stay out all night without me.

When I made a mistake and apologized, he held onto the pain and dismissed my remorse. There was no safety in our relationship because the rules were always in flux. I soon became wary of expressing my true feelings and opinions. I became secretive because I feared his disapproval. I had to pretend to not want things that I actually wanted because as soon as he became aware of my preferences, he would act in a way that opposed them. I was living in an opposite world and it became harder and harder to remember what I really liked.

I became combative because I was always defending myself. He would lose his temper and threaten divorce only to pretend it had never happened the next day. I strove to become so perfect that he would be unable to find any fault in me or our life together. But there was no such thing as perfect enough.