Untangled Final: The Question worth millions of dollars

Why didn’t I leave sooner? I still ask myself that to this day. What I’ve learned about abuse since my ex—whether emotional or physical—is that the abuser counts on you not knowing you’re being abused. Narcissists don’t target the weak; they target those who think they’re too strong to be used. They count on you not even suspecting that it’s happening to you. My ex also didn’t present who he really was; he presented a lie, and I believed the lie. He knew that if he presented the real him, I would have NEVER accepted it. I fell in love with the lie that was presented.

Think of it this way: a pedophile doesn’t tell the child they’re going to molest them—they first present a lie. They create an atmosphere of trust, loyalty, and intimacy. Once I felt safe with him, the devaluation phase began. I was sincere in my love for him, but he had no intention of loving me. I was always just a supply. I also believe a small part of me wanted to prove that I was marriage material.

The first two and a half years, I had no real desire to break up with him. I thought that was a normal range for getting to know someone. I didn’t like the lies, but I thought they would change once he got to know and trust me; for the most part, things were okay. After all, no relationship is perfect—isn’t that the first lie we tell ourselves? That was my way of excusing the inexcusable.

We didn’t argue because we didn’t talk. I told myself all of this was normal. I knew what all the books I read said, but I thought this was the exception to the rule. It wasn’t until around year three that I began to question the relationship and become disgruntled. Things were fine until they weren’t. He would have been perfectly content for me to live another ten years the way I was. He didn’t care if I was happy because, to the narcissist, they are always first. He was content. The problem was that I became vocally resentful. I was dealing with a trauma bond to the narcissist and a soul tie because he wasn’t my husband.

After this experience, I realized I didn’t know anything about men or dating, so I no longer offer any form of dating advice. This situation has helped me see that I need to rely on the Holy Spirit every step of the way. I now understand the woman who is trapped and the one who got free. I now know that true love never takes the advantage but gives the advantage. Unfortunately, I don’t trust myself anymore. I don’t trust myself to choose correctly because it’s been proven that I can’t.

When I was young, I didn’t have dating experience. I didn’t date, so I had no idea of “the rules.” I am transparent and have always been. I believe the best in people, and I think everyone’s honest because I’m honest. What’s the scripture? “To the pure, all things are pure.” That has been my downfall. I recognize that and have taken steps to right the wrong.

As I write this, I am 48 years old and have only been on five dates in my whole life. I have learned to be content in my situation. I’m so grateful to do the job I do because at least I get to touch and talk to people while I’m at work.

I have been free for 853 days at the time of this entry. I intend to contend for my freedom until I leave here. I recognize that I still have healing and growing to do, and I welcome it with open, outstretched arms. I am thankful for you, dear reader. You’ve taken a long, painful journey with me, and I am honored to be a looking glass into the day-to-day of a narcissistic relationship.

“AT SEVENTEEN”

By Janis Ian

“I learned the truth at seventeen
That love was meant for beauty queens
And high school girls with clear skinned smiles
Who married young and then retired
The valentines I never knew
The Friday night charades of youth
Were spent on one more beautiful
At seventeen I learned the truth…

And those of us with ravaged faces
Lacking in the social graces
Desperately remained at home
Inventing lovers on the phone
Who called to say “come dance with me”
And murmured vague obscenities
It isn’t all it seems at seventeen… 

A brown eyed girl in hand me downs
Whose name I never could pronounce
Said: “Pity please the ones who serve
They only get what they deserve”
The rich relationed hometown queen
Marries into what she needs
With a guarantee of company
And haven for the elderly… 

So remember those who win the game
Lose the love they sought to gain
In debitures of quality and dubious integrity
Their small-town eyes will gape at you
In dull surprise when payment due
Exceeds accounts received at seventeen…

To those of us who knew the pain
Of valentines that never came
And those whose names were never called
When choosing sides for basketball
It was long ago and far away
the world was younger than today
when dreams were all they gave for free
to ugly duckling girls like me…

We all play the game, and when we dare
We cheat ourselves at solitaire
Inventing lovers on the phone
Repenting other lives unknown
That call and say: “Come on, dance with me”
And murmur vague obscenities
At ugly girls like me, at seventeen…”

There was a time when I believed and sang all these words. They resonated with me. I understood her pain, the rejection, and the self-hate. That was unfortunately my own self-fulfilling prophecy. That belief is what attracted those men to me. I had to actively change my beliefs to see what I wanted. I could no longer agree with Janice and sing this song while still expecting pure, reciprocal love.

The truth is, love is not just for beauty queens; it’s for the divorced woman of four, the 51-year-old unmarried single, the 60-year-old beekeeper, the 31-year-old who has never dated, the 45-year-old career woman, and the list goes on. It’s free. It doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t damage. It doesn’t demand. It believes the best and it gives of itself freely. 

I wish you hope. I wish you peace. I wish you prosperity, and above all, I wish you love.

La Fin