The beginning

I recently found this picture in a box of unorganized pictures at my parents' house. My smile is real, I can see it in my eyes. Based off my cell phone (that I’d gotten Spring of Junior year), the Santa hat sitting on the stoplight behind me, and another picture I found from this same day of me in front of our Christmas tree, I can tell this is from December of my senior year. The necklace he’d given me was “wrapped” in that Santa hat, and thus it sat in a prominent place in my room. My car keys were attached to my belt loop, because I was so proud that I could finally drive. 

I see the innocence still in my eyes. The softness. The joy. Inside I was conflicted, but I wasn’t broken yet. Up to that point he'd been able to explain the things that didn't seem right to me, normally using his age and alleged maturity and my alleged immaturity to explain that I just didn't understand yet. We’d known each other less than a month by this point, but he was moving fast, all the while telling me that he was actually being extremely patient with me. I looked forward to our conversations everyday, often hours long. I still felt special to have been chosen by him. Now I can see that from the beginning that he was invalidating me and quieting my voice so that I no longer listened to myself or questioned him. 

He came into my life quickly, so quickly, too quickly, and told me everything a 17 year old girl wanted to hear. He seemed to want to get to know me, to know my heart, but later he just used all of that against me. He had an endgame, but I had no idea what that was then. It would be less than a month later that he completely broke me. 

There are so many things I could tell that girl now. To warn her. I'd tell her to listen to her gut, that small voice inside that he eventually all but quieted. But now Romans 8:28 repeats in my head, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." And I've seen what God has done with my pain, how he's used my story to give others the courage to face their own stories, how he's used the wisdom I've gained to tell people, sometimes for the first time, that the thing they've blamed themselves for for so long wasn't their fault. And I see God working and using me. That is my prayer now. This isn't about my abuser anymore, it's about using my voice to give others the courage to use theirs.  

"Reverse Projection: Before we realize the truth about the narcissist in our lives, we relate to them as if they are normal human beings possessing a conscience, integrity, and some degree of self-awareness. We trust their words because we don't deceive and manipulate people, and trust that the people who claim to love us will do the same.  We give them the benefit of the doubt because we believe they truly love us, and no one who truly loves us would purposely say or do anything to hurt our feelings and us. We are, in essense, projecting our good qualities on to them, and when they don't respond the way we expect a normal person should, we become confused and hurt, question our reality, and believe we must be to blame in some way. The problem is that narcissists don't think, operate, or play by the same rules as us, and our failure to recognize this sets us up for manipulation and misery, by default." - Bree Bonchay, LCSW www.freefromtoxic.com 

Cap and gown pic

I was wearing his necklace for my cap and gown pictures. I remember thinking that could be a terrible idea, but somehow I knew even then that he would define that year, and I didn’t want to ever forget that. I’m glad for that jewelry choice now, so I can see exactly who I was then, and how young I was. He gave me the necklace during the grooming stage, and I felt so special during that stage. This picture was supposed to define being a senior: in my graduation gown with cap and tassel, but at that time, he defined me. I don’t remember exactly when this picture was taken that year, but I remember how dead I felt inside, so I have an idea. I went from being a near straight A student to barely being able to focus at all, so it took so much more to keep my grades up. I didn’t want to go to church or youth group anymore, but I still did, out of guilt instead of passion. He did his best to isolate me from all my friends, at least emotionally, by telling me all the time how immature high schoolers were and how he didn’t care about any of that drama. He took so much from me. 

I’m glad for the wisdom of 17 year old Amy, who didn’t yet know, who didn’t yet have the vocabulary, for saving everything I could, so when I finally could start unraveling it 12 years later, I would be able to. There’s been so much hard fought freedom through years of counseling and going through the deep waters of the pain. Coming alive again has been worth every bit of it. 

Now when I look at this picture, I’m more upset they didn’t make me turn my “03” on my tassel towards the camera. I mean duh, camera person. 

#survivor #metoo #lookbehindthesmile #classof03

Prom

This photo speaks to me so much. When I look at it, even I can’t see the broken girl behind that smile. 

I was two days out of an emotionally and sexually abusive relationship when this was taken. Two days. Armi didn’t know. No one knew yet. I didn’t have the words for it then and wouldn’t completely find the words for it for almost 12 more years. I knew I was somehow different, I felt completely shattered, but just looking at this picture, you would have no clue. That’s the face I gave the world. Because I blamed myself (as most abused do), because I’d never been taught what abuse was, because I’d also been gaslit, all I felt was shame and self hatred for this thing I couldn’t name.

I remember watching people dance intimately and screaming inside, “Does she want that? Is he making her do that?” and wanting to physically pull the couple apart and ask the girl if she was truly ok. Thoughts my counselor later told me aren’t normal for a 17 year old girl to think without what I’d experienced. But I still didn’t know. 

I called him that night. After prom. One last time. He didn’t answer, and I knew he was done with me. But abuse attaches you to a person, especially when that person gaslights you, is narcissistic and emotionally abusive, and when that person makes you believe what they are doing is what you deserve and no one else will love you like they do. And then leaves. 

I hung up the phone when it went to voicemail, put that happy face back on, and walked into the after prom party where my friends waited, clueless as to what was really going on. 

 #survivor #metoo #lookbehindthesmile