The fear he felt at the end does not even come close to the terror that you and others had to live through.
He was a monster, and I am glad he is gone. The world is a little safer without him. In the last few days, the story has been on my mind, and some moments kept flashing back to me. Iam so grateful that you had the courage to leave. ❤️❤️❤️
I'm amazed, inspired, moved and shaken in the best possible way. Your words feel like a warm hug to anyone who still feels that nervous hum. Thank you so much for sharing, Marie!
Good for you for your courage to leave and move on!
I was in a relationship in the 90s that turned verbally and emotionally abusive. Nothing anywhere close to what you experienced. But, after first blaming myself for "not being good enough" and then realizing -- with the help of my therapist -- that that blame was misdirected nonsense, I too found my way to freedom.
When I left, everything escalated. He threatened violence. He stalked me. He showed up at my new apartment and tried to break in. I always managed to stay one step ahead. It took a tremendous amount of effort and it came at a price -- I could never relax. I had to stay vigilant.
A line from your essay stands out to me: "It was more like a dormant alert system." That's exactly right!
In 2013 -- 14 years after I left - I was looking out my window and I noticed that someone had placed a brick on our hot tub cover. My husband was out of town at the time so I knew he hadn't done it. A cold fear paralyzed me for a minute as I thought, "Oh my God, he's found me," even though I had moved more than half way across the country.
I "get" what you were talking about.
And you're right, we don't talk about this enough. I'm not sure about others, but while I do write about it, I'm very careful how I write about it because in the back of mind, I have that dormant alert system that warns: don't do anything to catch his attention again. I write more from the perspective of what I learned about myself and I keep any mention of him and what he did to a minimum, as though he was almost a side note, which, as I write that I think: that's a fitting place for him. A side note.
I totally understand your fear. It's still in me, even though I know he's dead. I still have to remind myself that it is, and I think with years (yes, sadly I think it will take years) that fear will get less and my body will remember that he's gone and can never hurt me again.
I am so sorry for what you have gone through, and that you still live with that fear! Take care 🤍
Thanks Marie. As I read your words, the funniest thing went through my head: I am not sorry. I wouldn't wish the experience on anyone, but I am finally to that place where I am grateful for the experience because it revealed to me what was worth fighting for -- me. My right to be who I know myself to be. And I came out the victor. That IS something to be grateful for!!
It is indeed. Every experience, the good and the bad, shapes us to who we are today. I have to say, I am proud of the person I've become, and am proud that I am still growing, becoming a little bit more myself every day. Thank you for reminding me of that.
If I say "Congrats" to you, would it sound petty, vindictive? If I say, "Good for him, he had it coming," would I sound equally evil? But I really want to celebrate with you that your hum finally stopped after thirty years. (I hesitated to leave this comment but after reading Noor's, I find that my glee is a shared feeling.) Thank you for sharing this difficult time and giving some of us wisdom that we will need now or for later.
As a former Forensic Nurse Examiner this story touched me. Unfortunately, it’s like so many I’ve heard before. I’m thankful you escaped and are continuing to heal. You are such a strong woman and you definitely “belong”!
In my opinion, he got off too easily.
The fear he felt at the end does not even come close to the terror that you and others had to live through.
He was a monster, and I am glad he is gone. The world is a little safer without him. In the last few days, the story has been on my mind, and some moments kept flashing back to me. Iam so grateful that you had the courage to leave. ❤️❤️❤️
You are right, there's absolutely no balance between his fear and our terror.
Looking back on that time, I'm grateful I got out when I did, but I wish I'd never ended up in that situation to begin with. There lies my shame.
I'm amazed, inspired, moved and shaken in the best possible way. Your words feel like a warm hug to anyone who still feels that nervous hum. Thank you so much for sharing, Marie!
Thank you for your kind comment, Diana!
What a story this was - and the ending too - that dreadful man! However, you feel about his passing is fine. He's gone - good riddance i say :-D
Good riddance, indeed. There is no sadness for him.
Good for you for your courage to leave and move on!
I was in a relationship in the 90s that turned verbally and emotionally abusive. Nothing anywhere close to what you experienced. But, after first blaming myself for "not being good enough" and then realizing -- with the help of my therapist -- that that blame was misdirected nonsense, I too found my way to freedom.
When I left, everything escalated. He threatened violence. He stalked me. He showed up at my new apartment and tried to break in. I always managed to stay one step ahead. It took a tremendous amount of effort and it came at a price -- I could never relax. I had to stay vigilant.
A line from your essay stands out to me: "It was more like a dormant alert system." That's exactly right!
In 2013 -- 14 years after I left - I was looking out my window and I noticed that someone had placed a brick on our hot tub cover. My husband was out of town at the time so I knew he hadn't done it. A cold fear paralyzed me for a minute as I thought, "Oh my God, he's found me," even though I had moved more than half way across the country.
I "get" what you were talking about.
And you're right, we don't talk about this enough. I'm not sure about others, but while I do write about it, I'm very careful how I write about it because in the back of mind, I have that dormant alert system that warns: don't do anything to catch his attention again. I write more from the perspective of what I learned about myself and I keep any mention of him and what he did to a minimum, as though he was almost a side note, which, as I write that I think: that's a fitting place for him. A side note.
I totally understand your fear. It's still in me, even though I know he's dead. I still have to remind myself that it is, and I think with years (yes, sadly I think it will take years) that fear will get less and my body will remember that he's gone and can never hurt me again.
I am so sorry for what you have gone through, and that you still live with that fear! Take care 🤍
Thanks Marie. As I read your words, the funniest thing went through my head: I am not sorry. I wouldn't wish the experience on anyone, but I am finally to that place where I am grateful for the experience because it revealed to me what was worth fighting for -- me. My right to be who I know myself to be. And I came out the victor. That IS something to be grateful for!!
It is indeed. Every experience, the good and the bad, shapes us to who we are today. I have to say, I am proud of the person I've become, and am proud that I am still growing, becoming a little bit more myself every day. Thank you for reminding me of that.
Yes!! Sometimes, if I’m feeling uncertain, I pause and remind myself of that and it’s like connecting to an internal power source.
If I say "Congrats" to you, would it sound petty, vindictive? If I say, "Good for him, he had it coming," would I sound equally evil? But I really want to celebrate with you that your hum finally stopped after thirty years. (I hesitated to leave this comment but after reading Noor's, I find that my glee is a shared feeling.) Thank you for sharing this difficult time and giving some of us wisdom that we will need now or for later.
Thank you for your honest comment, Yuni. We might be evil to say "he had it coming", but he had. Karma works in strange ways.
As a former Forensic Nurse Examiner this story touched me. Unfortunately, it’s like so many I’ve heard before. I’m thankful you escaped and are continuing to heal. You are such a strong woman and you definitely “belong”!
Thank you so much for your kind words!
❤️