I realise I said I had written my last post but I could not resist using this previously unpublished post
“Relationships are like broken glass. Sometimes it is better to leave them broken, than hurt yourself trying to put the pieces back together.”
It’s a matter of perspective:
I love the same guy for years. I always have been like that. From Infant school right the way through secondary school, I had a huge crush on the same guy. He had moved areas and become a policeman. He had come to my eighteenth with his fiance. He had told me his friend, who I had also believed was my friend, had called me a nasty name. I have mentioned this before, only now I believe my friend may have been telling the truth. I recently listened to another friend and had decided that maybe Nigh on forty years was enough time to be angry, so I had responded via my mother to a message from him.
So if the toxic person ever thinks I would take him back, he would probably need to live till at least a hundred. Still I did try to warn him I was like that. Once you hurt my children, you generally have zero chance of getting back on my good side, unless you are under 25. I love young people and I remember my own struggles at that age.
Some of my favourite young people on our street turned out to be the very ones I had reported to their mother. The eldest liked to wear Doc Martens too, which had endeared her to me. I had liked all the young people and had tried always to welcome them.
Why Did It Have To Be Me by ABBA
His family ruined my ex husband’s life. They deliberately set out to break up his marriage and his family. That is not love. That is control. He was caught in a web as much as I was. He was constantly seeking their approval. They had a communal mailbox. They had to come when they were summoned. He had needed to grow up, be his own man and learn to say ,”No!”
He hadn’t wanted to come back to Australia. It was my idea. He once told me he was much happier living a simpler life but he had come back and they had immediately taken ownership of him. I thought he had missed them. Part of him did but then another larger part was trying to break away. He liked it in the UK. He used to watch more English programmes than I ever did. He had loved staying with his friend on the coast and being able to visit Europe whenever he felt like it He had enjoyed being allowed to just switch off from people sometimes. The thing with narcissism is, It’s never (from what I have seen.) about just one person. The last time he hit me, he was just back from a family birthday party and I could tell he was extremely agitated. I recognised that he was a deeply traumatised individual.Our happiest times were browsing second-hand shops, looking for stuff for our home. I remember him being given clothing vouchers for his birthday and just giving them straight to the children. His family just couldn’t let him be happy, without their supervision. I doubt they ever will. They taught me how lucky I was to have parents, who had let me develop my own separate identity. To any future partners, just be aware you are not getting involved with an individual, you will be taking on the whole family unit. Good luck!