\”Beauty is in the eye of the beholder means that different people will find different things beautiful and that the differences of opinion don\’t matter greatly.\”
So I was reading a post over at her bad mother . Strangely enough I was talking to him about the time that my psycho ex boyfriends mom was and the time she said to me:\”You know Stephanie, you have a really nice smile. Oh Thanks! Although you could stand to loose a few pounds off your thighs. *come again?*\” At least I know where he got it from. I was maybe 15 or 16 at the time. Anyway, hearing comments like that at any age is somewhat damaging, hearing it when you\’re in your early teens? Damn near suicidal. You see I had a really awkward time growing up. I always looked different, growing up in a small town made my red hair that much more of a rarity, not to mention my freckles and my last name pretty much made me a prime target for being teased. Oh yeah lets not forget I was the only one in my grade four class that wore a bra. A real bra, not one of them training bra deals. I was sassy but brutally shy on so. many. levels. Cambridge was a bore, I grew up a little, learned to appreciate myself for who I was to a degree but I wanted more. I got the utmost thrill from being bad (Sorry mom! I love you), rebel without a clue essentially sums it up.
I met Garnet when I was 15. He lived in Guelph which was a considerably bigger city that Cambridge and was everything that I wasn\’t. We broke up after a few months, although we still had a few mutual friends in common and to make a long story short ended up getting back together later that summer at a friends birthday party. The abuse started when I was about 16. I was (and still am) a very stubborn, independent person with too much pride. I should have ended it after his first attempt to kill me that day, but for some reason unbeknown to me at the time, I stayed. Looking back on it now as a rational adult, I can see it so clearly. At that age, its not so blatantly obvious. He constantly berated me for the way I looked, the way I dressed, what I ate, how much I weighed, how much time I spent at the gym (too little for him apparently). Essentially he took my self esteem and destroyed it. I allowed him to control me and how I seen myself. I. hated. myself. a. lot. Case in point. I obsessed over how I looked, what I ate and essentially had a borderline eating disorder. I look back at pictures from that time period and of course I would kill to have the body I had then. I however have since learned to accept myself for the person I am and I like me. Now. However back then, I loathed myself on so. many. levels. Especially when you hear things from someone who claims to love you that they\’re repulsed by you, they\’re not physically attracted to you and so forth.
There\’s a huge correlation between an abusive relationship & how one views themselves. I\’ve been asked countless times why I stayed. That\’s a valid, yet totally loaded question. Like I\’ve said on numerous occasions, its hard impossible to comprehend when your on the outside looking in. Its something that you know in your heart is wrong, yet your so destroyed inside, mentally and emotionally that you don\’t have the courage, strength or the will to leave. Your life is no longer your own, its dominated by the skewed way you view yourself, fear and having it drilled into your head time and time again that no man will want you looking/acting the way you do. After a while you start to believe it. Really it boils down to control, an insatiable need for it at all costs. That is one key component to the mindset of an abuser. I have since learned that its them who can\’t live without you, them who feels that they will be nothing if you leave. God forbid if you try and obtain a mind of your own, the strength to stand on your own two feet and live your life the way you choose to.
I\’ll never forget the day we broke up. I called him, he was crying and carrying on saying that I should have been upstairs with him (we lived in the same apt building) not waiting for my date to arrive. I said no to him for the first time ever. The cry stopped immediately and he said what? I said no, no I will NOT come upstairs to be with you. He then says to me \”Stephie, you finally stuck up to me, that\’s all I ever wanted you to do.\” Right, so that gives you just cause to beat me down on so many levels? Anyway needless to say, the euphoria I felt at that moment is still to this day indescribable. I finally felt for the first time that I and I alone had gained some control of my life and that was and still is to this day the best feeling ever.
I still on occasion have moments where I hear his voice in my head when i\’m having a bad day. Every once in a while, those damn image issues come creeping up on me and I try to ignore them and most of the time I succeed. I am who I am and while I am not perfect, I am perfectly flawed and in spite of it all; I have learned to not only accept myself but love myself for who I am. I refuse to obsess about it, although I do know that I should pay far greater attention to taking better care of myself overall.