Not Me Too- Part 3 "Consent is Informed - Not deceiving or lying"

If you're still reading, you are a champion, my friend. I try to take deep breaths, as I'll be hosting a Christmas party in a few hours and am desperately trying to relieve myself of these feelings so that I can put on a happy face and host. Writing in a blog makes me feel like a 17-year old girl, but I find the medium somewhat cathartic. If I put it on a page , the shame from this doesn't have to live in my body. If I channel the freedom of a younger self, maybe I can reconnect to the self I've lost, kind of like rebooting an old backup of your Iphone.

To recap the timelines :

Jan-Feb 2021 - "You don't know yourself"/ Happy Hour story/ Florida dating app update when we're exclusive

May- December 2021 - Casually hanging out-->Dating--> Partnership

October 2021 - The Ex - partner/FWB weekly hangout/cuddle buddy situation. Also to be clear he was sleeping with Rachel before we met, messing with her while we were dating, and absolutely slept with her after we broke up.

January 2022 - Birthday Weekend Trifecta. "You're just not assertive" referenced in Part 1.

February 2022 - Rory situation ends with "I'm not attracted to her". A lot of snapping at me this month, prior to Valentine's Day.

March 2022 - Makes plans with(ex) behind my back.

April 2022 - Beacon (not mentioned) but in short I take him to my favorite place. I can tell he's off and not being himself. He snaps at me about it when I mention it. He tells me in the car ride over "That's because you have no power". I I think I could write a lot about this and what this sounds like coming from a white man to a young black female. This has stuck with me much longer than I'd like it to.

May 2022 - "I would sleep with my ex if we weren't together.""You see the world the way you do because you haven't been tested". More snapping.

June 2022 - Some peace!!! Some conversations about the future.

July 2022 - Florida, Bad thing to be described below.

I want to fast forward to the end of things, there's much in between, but I think these last few months bring to light the severity of the cruelty.

7/2/2022

I go to Florida to meet his family. I had had an explicit conversation about what this meant for me and it would seem like were were on the same page : I do care about you/want a future with you." . A false affirmation. It became really clear to me on that trip that he didn’t really care all that much about me. We host this party together. I get along with everyone. I feel special as people tell me he hasn't brought anyone home in a long time. His babysitter tells me I'm radiant. His friend looks at me, kisses me on the cheek and says he's so excited to meet me. He's so kind to me that it crosses my mind for a split second that this is the kind of person I should be with. Cheating wasn't an option for me, even emotionally (I'd even told Nitehawk about a few guys who had expressed interest always wanting to be honest). But this moment made me realize that I must've been so lacking in feeling that kindness.

But the party ends and the true nature of my relation to this person slaps me so hard in the face. The entire time I'm with his family, it's as if we're not really together or we don't really care for one another. My one lifeline there, the person I’m closest to, makes me feel like I’m navigating alone. He is someone completely different around everyone but me and I feel what I feel at the happy hour all over again, but worse because it spans days. He doesn't pull me in, doesn't really have many or real conversations with me. I remember trying to talk to him at the pool, but he basically remains silent. When I try to have a conversation bringing up how much I can see that he loves his sister, he grunts a Mhmh. I say nothing in response. And then he snaps at me." I feel like you get upset cause I don't respond the way you want". To which I respond, " Well when you give me a one word response and don't continue the conversation, it makes me feel like you don't want to talk or don't want to talk to me which is fine" . All the while, I eavesdrop on the couple beside us chatting on and on, engaging normally, choking back sadness. His anger snaps back at me again "What! do you want me to go on and on about how much I love my sister. I'm not gonna do that". I am too deflated to speak. This feeling happened more often then I'd like to think. He proceeds to try to make awkward conversation about a book we'd both been reading and then later tells me he had a good time at the pool with me. I'm floored and confused.

There's a tension when it's three of us, one not present when it's just me and his sister. His sister can see it, which is probably why she suggested we write down cards and get to know each other despite almost 2 years of this “relationship”. She can sense the disconnect. I can feel it. I think most partners know instinctively, “I‘m bringing my person to a new environment, I should check on them, make sure they’re comfortable, make sure they’re included, at least make them feel wanted/welcomed. He didn't do any of that. In his home, with his family, he still kept me at a distance. (For context post-breakup I went with him to his therapist). His therapist had asked if he saw me as his guest in Florida, and he said that he saw me as just " A guest at his sister's house", an absolute kick in the teeth. I really meant nothing. Imagine after a year and a half hearing your partner refer to you as "a guest at his sister's house", instead of "his guest". He tells the therapist that he was sort of testing things out ,experimenting by bringing me home. This was not done with the intention I had so previously thought he had when we had discussed this. I like many black women had been just a part of some white man's expirement. (Sista Stories TBD)

I would've been fine to not come, to hold off, even breakup before Florida. I remember even thinking to myself " If I time this conversation correctly, I can cancel my ticket if need be". But we had a conversation beforehand that made me sure that this was a milestone , an affirmation of something real. But, he was experimenting and I was just an object, a tool. And as such, he put me in this situation in which I was guaranteed to be humiliated. And I felt that when I was there. I cried one night in the guest room beside him. I wanted to leave so I didn't have to feel like this anymore, feeling like nothing beside him. I almost broke things off there and called my best friend crying from the guest bathroom. But I held off. I didn’t want to embarrass him. I was being considerate of him, his family situation, his feelings. This is ironic given what comes next.

When I return to NY, he is normal. We'd made plans earlier in the week, he comes back putting on the good boyfriend shtick. He hands me gifts he'd gotten me from Savannah, some things I'd left behind in Tampa, and proceeds to initiate sexual intercourse with me. He finishes. Eight minutes pass as I lay beside him naked. He turns to me and proceeds to say " I think we should break up. I don't love you and don't see a future with you". In this moment, something inside me breaks.

When I look back, I think that this moment is just emblematic of how he's always been. This is how little consideration he has always had for me. I sometimes wonder if he even saw me as a human being. Clearly, not as a partner, but he left with me with so little human dignity, violated, and discarded . I think about the added cruelty of how he'd never told me he loved me in this time but made me wait a year and a half for him to tell me he didn't love me as I lay naked beside him. There are no words for how degrading this is.

In every interaction, every conversation, I had remained calm, communicated clearly, tried to exhibit emotional restraint when he hurt me, which was almost always the case. But the violation is so egregious that I break my characteristic calm. I start yelling about how my body had been violated, my informed consent stripped from me, how I am now the third person he has hurt with his body. I feel like a used condom, discarded after use. I gather my things. I attempt to set our relationship flashcards on fire. I am filled with fury. The disrespect, the violation, all of it is so disgusting. He of all people for two very strong reasons should know better. But he always knew better just chose not to do it. And so he chose to take me at my most vulnerable, used my body, and as I sat naked in his bed, turned around to tell me that he didn't love me.

I think I will be discovering the impact of this on my psyche for years to come. I flashback to this moment every time I am with someone new. I hear "You don't want me." Or "You're worthless" in the back of my head. I can't work it out of my body nor my mind. Any time a person tries to touch me, I'm back in that bed, back in that happy hour, back in Florida just feeling worthless. I have nightmares about it sometimes. In every intimate setting , I flashback dissociate, cry, even when it's just me. The sexual trauma is something I have yet to release from my body.

I had waited to bring up his behavior in Florida giving him the consideration and space to get organized for school, deal with his family issues, deal with his grief. And here I sat naked, on his bed, discarded 3 weeks after he introduced me to his family. I can't say it was sexual assault, because he didn't force himself on me. But he misled me intentionally, violated my freedom to consent had I known his intention, so it feels wrong. The performance of it all, the faking of this gesture. I get stuck on this Planned Parenthood definition of consent. Consent is informed "not deceiving or lying". This line replays on my mind constantly, unraveling my ability to come to terms with this moment. I sometimes wonder how many times he was just putting on an act. It would seem like he's been doing one the entire "relationship". He always told me that he struggled with being authentic and honest. I should've known but here, this, I would've never guessed he'd do something like this. The fakeness of this, the violation of intimacy makes me sick when I think about it. It makes me sick when I think of what he was doing to me the whole time.

I am breaking to breathe here.

As I reel from this moment, I do as much as I can to evade processing. I travel to Colombia. I try to maintain friendly contact hoping that in restoring normalcy, I can minimize what's been done and find a way to move forward. I even try to redo this moment, end things properly better. But, the betrayals do not end when the relationship does. These new betrayals shed light on the unviability of the situation and of this line of thinking.

After all of this, I think he can afford me some decency or kindness. I ask and we agree not to pursue anything within the next month because I know it’s more than I can handle. Two weeks later, as soon as it became inconvenient for him, he disregards that. He goes to the one place where we both go, a place that is special to me,our improv studio and even after I confront him that night, he hooks up with someone. He has no conscience, no empathy, always needing female validation. When I go to therapy with him the following Monday (3 days later), he omits this, lying to his therapist and me (not knowing I know). He slutshames the woman for trying to sleep with him that night, tries to seem noble for rejecting her sexual advance that night, omitting that they left the bar that night to make out somewhere after seeing me and did hook up with her the next night. I've seen that woman several times since, a fun way to relive the pain of that night. I've tried to do improv several times since and my body remembers this moment, remembers him telling me I was medicore, and this wall forms up inside me. And to think he'd even requested that I don't do improv there anymore because it made it hard for him to see me there. I can not underscore the selfishness.

October 2022 - Last but not least, he pursues Rory after months of saying he didn't find her attractive and telling me I was being insecure. I found out in such a silly way, navigating to his Spotify to use his sleep playlist, which I'd spent the past year falling asleep to. I'd only slept 7 full nights since we broke up so I thought it could help. And here I see the playlist he'd created to chronicle this new romantic endeavor, less than 3 months after humiliating me and leaving me naked on his bed. To be clear it’d be different if this was something discovered after our relationship. He discovered it during, talked at length about it with his ex, and misled me for months. And so now I must face that this entire year has been a lie. And any sense of reality just collapses.

If it was someone else or if things had happened differently, with the scarce emotional resources inside of me, I'd find it in me to be happy for him. I am unfortunately gracious in this way. But this betrayal is so large, that it jolts me. It confirms that he had been lying to and also gaslighting me for months in addition to everything else he put me through. The next day coincidentally, he comes to me expressing feelings of guilt about our relationship - tells me how he didn't have the capacity to love me in the same way because he didn't love himself, how he mistreated me because of lack of emotional intelligence, was worried he had nothing to offer in relationships (despite me near begging to not be tasked with all the emotional labor which he let me do anyways). I come to his rescue as I always do. I play into the trap again. I go to his house and we talk more. He's more arrogant in person, saying how it's hard for him to see me , undoubtedbly because I'm a reminder of the worst of himself. He says how he feels like he has to make himself small around me, which for so many reasons is beyond ironic. A part of me just wants him to see how he's destabilized and unraveled me. But it doesn't work. Because in this moment, he's doing it to me all over again and I just don't realize it. He's lying to my face in that moment, purposefully withholding why he's telling me this now, because he's coming to me to use me once again. Because low and behold, this confession, this guilt , his quest for absolution comes very well-timed. All of these revelations, this desire for my emotional support is happening the night before his first date with Rory.

Fooled again, I am livid. He has once again used me as his doormat, wiping his shit off on me to pretend to be clean for someone else. He tells me he didn't tell me about it because he didn't want me to be angry, not sad or hurt but angry. As my anger would be a reaction to yet another lie, the biggest one this time, and would make him have to face all of his lying. And he doesn't want to do that. Once he's gotten the emotional support and labor he needs from me, the next morning he excuses himself saying "Well it wasn't ideal, but wasn't the end of the world" regarding his behavior the past year. I ask for answers. I ask why he didn't pursue it. What happened? What he had been doing behind my back this entire time? He says nothing. I finally have to confront it all. With this last betrayal and his lying in the moment , I break. I write it all out. It's 15 pages and I am shocked that so much has happened and that I have so many tales of abuse and mistreatment, lies, deceit, gaslighting, and a sexual violation as the cherry on top. My body nearly collapses as I now have to face myself too.

A few weeks later, he goes to a concert I bought tickets to first, a concert he knows I'm going to. He tells me he's not bringing Rory. I go to a bar after the concert and there they are. I can't expect him to have been honest about this and he wasn't wrong, but this site is just a visible sign of the betrayal. I've learned now that my trigger is betrayal. This is one of the strongest moments of my derealization. I think I'm dreaming during the entire thing. I go to the bathroom, take a shot, and start driving. My mind and my body are no longer in sync. I am fractured. I don't remember a lot of the details around that night. My friends later tell me that I had some sort of psychological episode driving home from the concert. I'm trying not to remember what happened but I know it was bad. I do still however remember the feeling. I have never felt more out of my own control. I have never been so scared.That's when I knew something was really wrong with me. And a few weeks later I got the diagnosis.

Most days, I am pulled out of life to remember all that's happened as a result of the CPTSD flashbacks and dissociation. I think it's too much for me, for anyone really. I don't know what to get over first. And it's not an emotional issue in which I'm sad and miss my old partner. Separation and reconciliation are natural parts of life. I can do that. That's normal. But what he did , all of it, was not. But this, this is something that is large and big and hairy and a lot and my brain can't process. The therapists have said " I am severely traumatized from emotional abuse. Having experienced a highly traumatic and abusive early life, made it hard for me to see this for what it was..abuse"... Every therapist I've seen has said something like this to me. I've switched so much probably because I hate hearing that word. I know that in part that diagnosis is validation that what happened was not normal. If this was a bad breakup, I'd be sad, not sick, not psychologically damaged. I use this CPTSD Workbook and one of the first lines states that CPTSD is a natural consequence of an unnatural events. Intermittent and consistent gestures of cruelty, gaslighting , manipulating, deception, lies, crazy-making, hyper criticism, snapping, attacks on self-esteem, emotional abuse, derrogatory comments, and bullying. These are not normal facets of any relationship. .

Everything combined has not just hurt my feelings but harmed my psyche, changed my brain. Some of what happened over course of those months was abusive and according to my body, traumatic. And I hate that those terms fit. I hate what's happened more than anything. I hate being a victim of someone I loved. I read up on covert narcissism and narcissistic abuse and it all tracks. He's able to play the victim, release a big secret to garner trust & empathy, and go virtually undetected in his harmfulness. They minimize, downplay, make jokes of their harm towards women, always have women in the wings (Rachel Rory Sarah), very low in empathy(right you must be if you can continually harm someone). They are often outwardly "nice guys". And so maybe that's how I couldn't see it or when I did see it, I didn't believe it, constantly in shock or disbelief when his cruelty would spring up. No one would believe it if you met him. I still don't believe it. But regardless, it happened.

Looking back, I think that I could manage to move forward in the moment because the relationship was like a safety net, keeping me from fully feeling the harm. Nitehawk kept throwing knives at me and being in relationship or communion with him, prevented the knives from piercing all the way through. I don't have to be damaged by this if its something I can move past and forgive. If I can move past it, we can move on from this to maintain our relationship. But with this last betrayal, one last big lie, the net was cut and suddenly all the knives had pierced me all the way through. I felt it all.

So this is Christmas and what have you done? John, what's been done to me?

A part 4 with some reflections to come. Bailey needs to be walked and I have guests coming soon.