August 2013
I always told myself I’d never be one of those women that allow a man to rule over her, controlling her actions and emotions. But here I am. Looking back, I can see how I let you make me feel guilty for my feelings. Every time I had questions or doubts you would throw my “jealousy” in my face and remind me of how unacceptable it was to you, making yourself out to be a saint. I bought into your shit, even as I saw you being jealous of me, of other musicians, of your ex’s new boyfriend, of your brother. You were just projecting your shit onto me, and I bought into all of it.
You trained me to doubt, not to question. Then you trained me to not even ask for your time or company. You needed your freedom and space. You were grieving. It was hard to be with a new girl. We’d go out together and you’d leave my side for most of the evening. You’d promise we’d go out together and show up at my house and tell me you feel too sick to go. You’d have sex with me and leave immediately after because you had “other things to do.” I’d tell you it was alright, that I understood. You were busy, and were barely able to make that small bit of time for me. I was thankful to you for bothering to show up at all. All this time, I thought it was MY idea. I thought I knew what you needed and was trying to provide it. Now I see how you were laying out the cards from the beginning.
I believed you were so much better than me. I thought you were so empathetic, kind, spiritual and insightful. I felt like I had to be a great artist to deserve you. Being myself was not enough. Now I believe you are just a skilled liar with a memory like a steel trap. Only once did I catch you messing up your story.
***
Today I backslid a little bit. I saw his new primary relationship partner show up on Instagram and I clicked over to see what was new. I had been actively avoiding doing any such thing for the sake of no contact, but for some reason I succumbed to temptation. I saw that she had been on a recent trip to Mexico and immediately wondered if M had accompanied her. I clicked over to M’s Instagram feed where I saw exactly what I had feared: he was also posting photos from Mexico. I immediately felt jealous as it sunk in that here they were a year and a half later, still together and traveling the world in tandem. For a moment I felt that familiar doubt that maybe he really was just too broken from his last relationship to take me seriously and that now he is in good, healthy relationship with someone else. I’ve spent the better part of the day reminding myself of a few key things:
I can only conclude that she is only the primary relationship that he puts forward as his public relationship and lord knows what else is going on behind the scenes. I never would have suspected his shitty behavior had I not been confronted with very damning evidence and it is likely he has stepped up his secrecy since that PR disaster. He has been denying his relationship with that girl since day one so I doubt he would even acknowledge it to me now if confronted.
The bottom line is this: I finally can acknowledge that it does not matter what is going on with this girl. I personally, do not ever want this word-twisting evil person back into my life. I have no room for emotional mind-fuckery and vague communications that make me feel insignificant and undeserving. Chances are good that the other people in M’s life have not learned this about themselves yet, and hopefully M will be the catalyst for great personal change for them at some point, if he doesn’t manage to destroy them completely.
Reading through this, I’m tempted to laugh at statements like “I felt like I had to be a great artist to deserve you.” Now that I understand more about how Narcissists pick their targets, I realize that my artistic ability (or lack thereof) played absolutely no role in how much I was “loved” by M. My art was just another way to control me. By heaping on praise about my work, he would ensure that he was getting that much deeper into my good graces and trust. I’m fairly sure it would not matter what I was actually creating, his praise would be the same, with the same intended result.
Now I am with a true artist who understands that the act of creating must be the purpose of art, because the glory of fame is fleeting as fans move on to the next great thing. Never once have I felt that I needed to be better than I am to deserve his love. Through this whole ordeal with M, I have learned exactly what my strengths and weaknesses are. I do not need my relationship to define me.
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