Everyone Saw He Was Emotionally Abusive but Me
By: Neetha Pm
Tags: Feminism, Mental Health, Friendship, Relationships, Misogyny

Everyone Saw He Was Emotionally Abusive but Me

For as long as I allow my trauma to define my being and how I treat others, I will always attract the likes of people like him.

Photo by Johan Mouchet on Unsplash

It wasn’t long ago when I made a friend named Pete*. He seemed pretty laidback at first. He was a lot older than me––almost twice my age, so I thought he must be wiser. Though he grew up in a different time, we grew in environments with racial tensions that rallied against us. I thought that should have brought us closer.

Oh, how wrong I was.

It wasn’t long before Pete started to emotionally torment me. I’ll admit that I probably shouldn’t have dropped bombs about my life so quickly when I met him, but I just came out of some traumatic experiences then. I don’t know about you, but I always make it a mission to listen. Especially when the person looks like they’re struggling to balance on the edge between life and death every so often.

At the least, I expected some common courtesy where Pete could have just ignored me and went about his own way if he was so bothered.

But nope. He told me I was sad to be around. I secretly wept and contemplated suicide some more that day. And I couldn’t help but think, maybe, he has a point.

Who wants to hear some girl blabber about her sob story? Whoever asked for that kind of inconvenience?

That’s what I was being. An inconvenience. I learned my lesson, and I thought Pete finally opened my eyes to some greater fuckin’ truth. Thank you, Pete.

But then there was more of that.

I would talk about a regular day of being a twenty-something-year-old, where drama is likely to ensue in a group of girlfriends. Pete didn’t like that.

“This is the problem with all you females. You guys get caught up in bullshit drama. Just stop talking. I don’t wanna hear it.”

I felt bad about it. Maybe, I should have just stopped talking then. I don’t know. I was having a rough day and I simply wanted to let out some fumes.

There were some days when Pete was more obvious about his power trip over me amongst our other friends. He would comment on my looks,

“No offence. You got this hot girl attitude, but you’re not even that hot. Stay in your league, man.”

He would comment on my choices,

“Just shut up. I don’t wanna hear it. Life doesn’t work that way. I lived longer than you, so I know. I can’t even be here.”

He would belittle my issues by bringing other things up,

“Did you hear about that girl who got raped on the news? Maybe, you should acknowledge your privilege and stop whining about life.”

I don’t know the basis by which he assumed my ‘privilege’. But there is no way in hell, he could ever fathom what I’ve been through.

Especially not with that statement.

And I admit. I wasn’t a great person, to begin with. I was bitter at the world that seemingly took and took from me, so I would take back twice more. We both grew up in unjust systems. He asked about whether I stole once, so I honestly said, “Yeah, it was a very long time ago.”

He took that moment to criminalize me and talk about why it’s wrong in front of others. I acknowledge the wrong in my actions today, but damn I was caught off guard even then by another one of his power trips.

But I realized something one day.

Pete managed to attack all the women around us. We were all younger than him, yet we were either a) far more advanced in our professional capacities or b) moving to positions above his rank. He was only comfortable with lashing out against me because he knew I was conditioned to submit to men by my cultural upbringing. But most of all, he knew that I was in an emotionally vulnerable state to exploit in the first place.

What does that say about him?

He really reeked of gendered contempt. You can see it when he used words like ‘shelf-life’ to describe how useful a woman is by her appearance.

You might meet Pete, and think he’s a nice guy at first. But I know Pete as the guy who’d lug us, women, around in dog leashes, if only society worked that way. His appraisal for some vile practices against women in third world countries behind closed doors should give you a better idea.

It wasn’t long enough before other people realized what Pete was.

“Oh… *That* guy? Yeah. He’s something else, alright.”

This was said to me by a silent observer, who was likely to have heard Pete’s obnoxiously loud misogyny, every now and then.

Damn. This person saw the red flags the first time around. Yet for months-on-end, I was still blinded from the truth.

And you know what’s funny? I took the time to hear Pete’s random emotional outbursts about his bitterness for getting racially bullied. Yet I don’t think he ever took to the time to listen to me, or realize that we are a lot more alike than he’s given credit for.

But that’s the thing. For as long as I allow my trauma to define my being and how I treat others, I will always attract the likes of people like Pete.

Petes who dwell on their downfalls, to justify the less than desirable outcomes of their lives.

Petes who continue to play the blame game, instead of owning up to their lack of perseverance.

Petes who cannot see through their own delusional hypocrisies, in fear of staring their mediocrity right in the eye.

Petes who take and take, without giving back.

So, I removed Pete’s negative energies from my life today, and no longer keep in contact with him. But I really do thank Pete for opening my eyes to greater truths.

These are simply just far from the ‘truths’ that he preached.

*Name changed to protect the identity of the subject