To my asshole ex: I wish I had known of the Duluth Power and Control Wheel during our relationship (or even better, before we got together because then I would have spotted the signs). I’m so relieved and exuberant over our break up – I feel much more like myself, and I have a sexy, delicious, intelligent and athletic man who appreciates me and I, him. Check out the wheel here.
This Dr. Phil episode is the *exact* scenario I was terrified would play out in my future with you. I was repeatedly told by professionals involved with domestic abuse that I would end up dead and/or any children, too. Before the violent death, that ultimately would come, there would be escalating control issues, physical/mental/emotional trauma and isolation from family and friends directed at me and most likely future children; even if you had enough sense to keep your domineering insecurities away from the children, they would still hear and see the arguments and physical violence thereby damaging them indirectly.
I knew you were jealous of my relationships with friends and family because you had very few, but I never thought you’d be petty enough to try to break those bonds. My parents raised me to be strong and self-reliant for which I will forever be grateful: it was the very thing that helped me walk away from you once and for all. I’m surprised you didn’t have an inner dialogue telling you that tracking my every move was sick and inappropriate: demanding I answer my phone *every time* on the first ring when you called drove me in the opposite direction. You must have figured out that when you threw a temper tantrum and gave me the silent treatment, I went out with friends or family: I did things *I* enjoyed that you hated. Whenever you demanded “a break,” I was more than happy to oblige. I knew you thought/hoped I would cave in to whatever you were dictating: did not happen, did it? Had you picked up the pattern that “the breaks” were getting longer and longer as the years went by? I reveled in them. I was extremely happy not having you bitch and moan about my jobs, my friends, my clothing, etc: I was finally free!
One day, I fervently hope you and your brother get what’s coming to you. Who the fuck thinks it would be wise to lie to the police or other investigators about how a man’s hand print, in the form of a bruise, is on the face of a female getting stitches inside her mouth because the choking attempt crushed tender flesh into sharp teeth? You two are fucking cowards – the only way you managed to hurt me is when I turned my back to leave and you caught me off guard. I wish I had managed to rip your eye out and that Bobby had the sense to stay the fuck out of the way. I recorded our conversation where you admit you and Bobby were going to lie if I pressed charges: my sister was witness, too. Did you seriously think no one knew? Collin’s mother was with me in the ER and so was my uncle; they were relieved and rejoiced when you were permanently gone. They also *love* my current boyfriend in contrast to you.
I’ll be waiting for that phone call when I am asked to be a character witness.