Thank God I’m Free! What being with a controlling man taught me
Written By Natasha P. // Domestic Violence // EEW Magazine Online
When I first met my ex, Blake, he made me feel good about myself. He complimented me constantly, telling me, “Oh, you’re so beautiful.” “I love everything about you.” He treated me like his special queen. It was a dream, a fairytale, even.
But it was too good to be true.
Over time Blake’s compliments changed to criticisms. A high-powered businessman and corporate executive, Blake especially focused on the way I dressed. He would tell me that my outfits were inappropriate and made me look cheap. Also, according to him, I needed to dress more modestly. I didn’t want to embarrass Blake around his colleagues, so I started changing my style choices, even letting him pick out the pieces he liked most.
Then Blake told me I looked more attractive without makeup. At first, because I liked wearing my favorite MAC products, I didn’t stop dolling myself up. I was good at doing makeup. In fact, it was my side hustle in addition to my full-time job at a law firm. I enjoyed enhancing beauty.
But soon I realized Blake’s suggestions about my appearance weren’t just suggestions. With the passage of time, he started outright saying, “I wish you would stop wearing so much makeup. I hate looking at when you are looking like a Jezebel, and I won’t take you anywhere with me looking like that.”
More and more I found myself changing my clothes to fit his preferences and toning myself down. Makeup became a thing of the past. When I looked in the mirror, I didn’t recognize myself. Who was this plain Jane staring back at me?
The more control I gave up, the more control Blake wanted. He grew increasingly possessive and was jealous of the good relationships I had with family and friends. He didn’t like most of the people I was close to and told me I needed to cut them out of my life. He said they were beneath me.
He boasted about his expensive tailored suits, BMW, luxury high-rise apartment, and exquisite gifts he gave me and said he was trying to take me to “another level,” and everyone couldn’t go where I was going.
The first time things got physical, we were quarreling over my decision not to stop hanging out with the woman who had been my best friend since first grade. To appease him and avoid conflict, I pulled away from those I loved to devote more time and attention to him.
This made him happier, but it made me more miserable than ever. I was losing myself and no longer had the same zeal for life. My energy was low. I was depressed often. I was unfulfilled at work. I had to cover up bruises on my arms and face. I missed my friends and family. I was tired of being reduced to Blake’s arm candy and nothing more. He didn’t even like my church or my pastor, so I changed that too!
Only a shell of my former self remained. I lost weight because he asked me to. My whole world revolved around him and what he wanted me to do and be.
I saw myself in Zora Banks, the lead character in the film adaptation of Terry McMillan’s acclaimed novel, Disappearing Acts—one of my favorite movies. Like her, I put my dreams on hold and placed my plans on the back-burner. I was so absorbed in Blake’s world, mine completely fell apart. I watched Disappearing Acts while crying and eating a pint of low fat ice cream on my most depressed days.
I gave my power away, but it was never enough for him. Somehow, I thought being a doormat and letting a jealous, insecure man walk all over me would eventually make him see what a good woman I was.
I just wanted to be loved, accepted, and respected. I hoped to get married and have kids with this man. But the more I gave myself away, the less I respected myself and the less Blake respected me. It took three and a half years of staying tied down, being rejected and manipulated before I made a change.
I prayed for the strength and courage to leave Blake. Night after night, I cried myself to sleep. I made a few unsuccessful attempts to break it off with him before finally letting go for good. It was a devastatingly painful breakup, but I knew the relationship was not the will of God. I had made too many compromises and reached the point of no return.
By God’s grace, I made it out after being mentally, emotionally, and physically abused for so long. Though I walked away broken, God rebuilt me gradually. I learned from that experience that the person God has for me will love me for who I am and will not ask me to change everything about myself to fit their mold. And of course, they will not put their hands on me the way Blake did!
I also recognize now that I cannot heal someone who is broken by allowing them to break me. I will never be able to do enough, give enough, or be enough to make an unhappy person happy. I must expend that energy building myself up and embracing the person God created me to be.
When I stopped twisting myself into a pretzel to please someone else and started concerning myself more with pleasing God, things got better and easier.
I am still single today but far happier than I was while stuck in that toxic relationship. I look back on it, though it was hard, and feel thankful for the relationship lessons I learned the hard way.
All I can say is, thank God I’m free!
If you are in a controlling, abusive relationship and need help, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 800.799.SAFE (7233) or visit TheHotline.org. You are not alone.
