Bullying

Most men don’t want to admit that they’re in an abusive relationship. They describe the relationship and their girlfriend/wife using other terms like crazy, emotional, controlling, bossy, domineering, constant conflict, or volatile.

I've never thought about it quite like that before. It was the question my therapist asked, "Have you ever been bullied?" that set me off along this path.

We did some work on core values and beliefs, the things in the past that have contributed to who I am now. I mentioned my dad, his relationship with my mum and us boys, and my relationship with Sophie's mum. She asked the question and I thought about it for a moment, before explaining that although I never really felt like I fitted in at school, I wasn't bullied more than the occasional falling-out with someone and the flak that came with it.

Tara brought me back to the relationships with my father and daughter's mother. I started thinking a little more and could feel a revelation coming on. I always get a sense of impending achievement just before these revelations, anticipation of a wonderful, helpful insight. My dad never really bullied us directly (although that's open to interpretation), but he certainly bullied mum. Sophie's mum definitely bullied and abused me and, just as in that quote above, I never really admitted it until these past few days.

I was bullied, by my girlfriend. I had an abusive partner. I think it's a big step forward to see what happened in that light, because that's exactly what it was and, in knowing that, I can start to move forward with getting past it

I did some reading before I came online this morning. I had to modify my search somewhat to find information specific to a woman bullying a man, instead of vice versa. One of the hits, below, rang so many bells it startled me:

http://shrink4men.wordpress.com/2009/01/30/10-signs-your-girlfriend-or-wife-is-an-emotional-bully/

Just like the opening quote above, I classed her behaviour as manipulative, controlling, crazy and angry, not as abuse or bullying. Now I see it for what it is, I can work through it, but I'm surprised how hard the realisation has hit me. I intend to explore this theme of bullying further in the near future as I firmly believe it has a strong influence on some of my current behaviours. The realisation that it was bullying/abuse that I suffered has had a strong impact on me and I'd like to explore that further.

I noticed an interesting parallel

during a skype call with Tess yesterday. She only smiled once or twice for the whole call, and when I asked her about it, she said "I just miss you, so much."

Earlier in the week I'd revealed that our gmail chat conversations were sometimes a trigger for my binge eating, for much the same reason. Our chats, while satisfying and fulfilling and loving, are a strong reminder of the vast barrier between us, the yearning in my heart and the deep desire for proximity. They're a daily opportunity to remind me how long we have until we're together, the nearest opportunity being ten weeks away, the next being ten months.

I knew this aspect of our relationship would be painful, but I didn't realise how insidious it would be. It is a creeping and underlying hurt, like a dull toothache that only occasionally meets consciousness, but is sub-consciously always there causing tension. I guess it might be easier to deal with if it came in waves or noticeable occurrences - at least there would be the opportunity to deal with it head-on. However, now that I've noted its effects and seen a parallel in Tess's feelings, I can't help but think this is a chance to understand it and deal with it as part of the package of our love.

Of course we miss each other. It seems cruel, in a way, that we had almost a month of blissful, overwhelming contact but have been forced apart for the past six and a half months. The chances I had to ask her to stay, and I think she would have... a large part of me wishes I'd taken a chance. My reasons at the time were valid, though: I didn't want to interrupt her chance to study the course of her dreams, to thrive through her university years, to perhaps find love on her way.

At that time, we were having a fling, something with a defined end, and I was clinging onto the hope that we could both let it go when we parted. That was the easy way out, but it soon became apparent that we'd rather take the harder path, for the rewards were so much greater. We knew it would be hard. We investigated all the options so we could be together sooner but, for various reasons, we'll be sticking to approximately six-monthly visits of three to four weeks a visit.

I'm unsure yet whether these visits will make things easier or more difficult. One of the elements that concerned me when deciding whether to carry this relationship on after parting was: would parting again be as hard? Will our meetings take the edge off our yearning or simply enhance it? I don't have the answer to that yet, although common sense suggests it will get easier over time. I hope that's the case, because I can't imagine it being much harder than it is now.

These visits, though, do represent bright, shining beacons of hope in our relationship. I can only speak for myself but without them, I fear I'd be unable to carry on. If it were to be another two and a half years until we could be together again, even only for a day, I don't think I'd be able to cope. Time does fly however, and this distance is giving us both an opportunity to grow, in preparation for our future life together.

This pain is Totally Worth It. It does hurt, and it's something I'd like to come to terms with more effectively, but it is a constant reminder of how much we care for each other. I'd like to be able to turn it into a driving force, a positive, instead of something that stops us from smiling. I wonder if there's a way?