Have I Found Compassion for the Man Who Abused Me for 9 Years?

Just to make things clear, I am not excusing his behaviour in any way, nor am I saying that what he did to me was ok.

I did not deserve to be treated the way I was. None of it was my fault, and the level of fear and control he introduced into my life is inexcusable. The only way I could be free of him was to flee to a place where no one knew me or him, and that is unacceptable.

However, I wonder if I’ve taken another step on my healing journey (these steps keep on coming, no matter how “healed” I think I am). Because, for the first time, I can look at my past and the person who hurt me with a new level of understanding and compassion.

All because of an old diary that randomly popped up last week.

The diary was from my travelling days.

As I skimmed through the pages of adventure and discovery, I was reminded of the person I was when I met him. Independent, confident, not afraid to say no, curious, and fun.

I felt a rush of pride as I read through my exploits and cast myself back to those times. I valued myself, backed myself up, and firmly believed in myself. I followed my own path.

This healthy level of self-esteem and self-confidence continued when I returned to the UK and was still present when I met him.

I had a great job, with good prospects and worked evenings at a nightclub. I was ambitious and preferred earning money to spending it, hence working at a club where I could dance all night long and still get paid.

He targeted me from the moment we met in the club I was working at. He saw something he wanted, and he was going to stop at nothing to get it. His gorgeous face and skin, arrogance, and bad boy charm meant I didn’t stand a chance.

Things moved fast. Within a few months we were living together, and despite the odd alarm bell ringing loudly in my ears, I fell in love with him.

As he drew me into his world of drama, darkness, and lies, my self-esteem and self-confidence plummeted. He sucked it right out of me.

Every time I tried to drag myself up, he would physically and emotionally beat me back down.

He once tried to explain his behaviour by way of a letter he wrote to me, the first time I ran away to a woman’s refuge.

“Everyone likes you, you are so good at everything, you get on so well with everyone, you make friends really easy, you can do anything. I get jealous of you. You’re a much better person than I am. Why would you choose to stay with me? So, I hit you because that’s the only way I can get you to stay.”

Yes, this should have been the loudest alarm bell of them all, but by the time he sent me that letter, 3 years after we met, my self-esteem was at rock bottom. His words did not resonate in the way they should have.

I should have realised at that point that I was too good for him, that he did not deserve my love, and that things would never get better. I should have stayed away.

But I couldn’t see myself as the good person he had described. I had been told I was useless and unimportant so many times, those rare words of praise did not even register.

Instead, they had the effect he intended them to have. I felt sorry for him, went back home, and dimmed myself even more so he could feel better about himself.

After 18 years of healing and rebuilding myself, I can look back at the girl I was before I met him and understand his insecurities.

He had two kids by the time he was 20, no regular job, not many friends, a long police record, and a string of past girlfriends he had abused and cheated on (all of this was unbeknown to me until he had hooked me in).

And he was with a girl who had travelled the world, had a successful career ahead of her, and was not afraid to go for what she wanted.

My strengths fuelled his insecurities, and the more insecure he got the more he had to control me. My son and I were the best things in his life and the only way he could keep hold of us was to keep me living in fear.

The diary entries have given me a new level of self-respect and a growing sense of self-worth, which is enabling me to look at my past through a different lens.

From this place of valuing myself, I can understand why someone who was riddled with insecurities chose to be with someone who possessed the qualities he wanted for himself. Someone who could make him look, maybe even feel like a better person.

And because of his warped view of love and relationships, he chose to keep hold of that person in the only way he knew how — through lies, fear, violence and control.

I can imagine that it sucked being him.

Does he deserve my compassion? Some would say no, but this isn’t actually about him.

Nothing since the day I ran away has been. It’s all been about me.

I’ve always known that I did not deserve anything that happened to me, but the emotional damage I was left with has made it difficult to find true emotional freedom. I lost a lot more than nine years of my life to that man.

But as my healing journey continues, I can stop blaming myself for being weak and look back at myself with pride and respect. I can find compassion and forgiveness for myself, and rediscover the girl who got buried underneath harsh words, physical assaults, and emotional attacks.

And I can finally make sense of what happened to me — which is the key that will set me truly free.