Trojan Horse
The first time the two of you said “I love you” was simple. Objectively there were no frills, nothing over the top – it seemed “ordinary.” You were sitting in his living room in the dark. It might have been a Monday night; you’re not sure exactly. You were likely wearing your sweats or pajamas, feeling comfortable and warm and, more importantly, joyful. Subjectively, it was anything but ordinary – it felt extraordinary – effortless and natural. You felt sure, at peace, and happy – so very happy. You were on Cloud 9. You felt like you had been searching endlessly and had finally found a safe space to land, a hand to hold, and a soul to give your heart to.
If it sounds or feels too good to be true it probably is.
Memories and feelings like this make surviving abuse confusing and cause you to question reality and your own sanity. I’ve never loved someone like I love you. Me either. I love you so much. I love you too. You start to wonder: Maybe I was too much; maybe if I had said this better or done that differently. You're grasping for anything to hold onto, anything to keep that feeling you had when you first said “I love you” on an ordinary Monday night, anything to make it make sense. Please make it make sense.
This is where you begin to mistake fireworks for bombs. Eventually, hot embers surround you, and everything is engulfed in flames. You’re unable to see through the smoke. Your vision is distorted. You can't breathe properly. More importantly, your safety is compromised.
The first blow is subtle, nearly imperceivable. There are no visible scars or bruises you can point to. A tiny spark from a fire that you can easily put out. You think it’s just a bad fight, a misunderstanding, something you can work through. And again, and again, and again. You notice and think to yourself: Hmm, I’m feeling gaslit right now. I feel misunderstood and as if every time I bring something up he gets pretty defensive and fired up. He’s starting to point the finger back at me and redirect what’s “wrong with me” whenever I bring something up. I’m feeling really anxious and on edge most of the time.
But it’s not just the comments and conflict management that you notice and start to feel uneasy about. Soon enough there’s a very distinct pattern emerging: I feel like we’re fighting like this every month. And now every week. Why is it when we have a fight like this and you push me to my breaking point, that is when you become loving again and convince me of everything you’ll do to fix it and make it right? Where was that before? You remember describing this dynamic to your therapist: I’m so exhausted! We keep having these fights, almost weekly! And each time, after we “get through it,” we’re back again in just a few days!
This is when the pattern of abuse emerges: tension builds; an abusive incident occurs in the form of verbal, physical, psychological, or sexual abuse; reconciliation in the form of gaslighting, excuses, and empty apologies; and finally reconciliation where things appear calm or “back to normal,” or romantic and better than before. Anddddd … repeat.
The once mesmerizing firework show transforms into a warzone. Destruction is all around you. Your exit routes are disappearing. The ground beneath you is disintegrating. There are snipers in the windows, on the rooftops, and more importantly, at ground level, directly in your home, sitting right in front of you. That’s right: the threat isn't just outside anymore. The danger is here. The enemy is in the building. That moment on the couch, confessing your love to each other was a lie – a Trojan horse intended to create mass destruction by gaining access from within.
Just as a mole uses manipulation and lies to find its way into targeted organizations, the experience in an abusive relationship includes the abuser carefully building and then dismantling trust. Sensitive information is shared while forming a deep and uniquely passionate loving relationship. The abuser works his way in over time, creating the illusion of trust, love, and loyalty – parts of you are freely given and taken advantage of. So when the cycle of abuse takes shape, the result is severe betrayal because you’ve already gone all in and believed a lie of epic proportions.
You learn that the abuser wasn't actually there to offer love and to create a safe space. This isn't the magical love and passionate romance you were once sold. The reality is that he carefully and tactfully created this illusion in order to position himself to gain access to and control over you. What was once a safe and intimate space is now littered with full-scale devastation and betrayal.
I’m bulletproof, nothing to lose; […] Ricochet, you take your aim; Fire away, fire away. (~Sia, Titanium)
The thing about snipers and moles is that they’re good for a very specific purpose. But even the most skillful of villains have a weakness, or their poison loses its effects. Their mission becomes harder to continue once they’ve been identified for what they are. Because at that point the other side learns how to evade the blows and fight back.
You shoot me down, but I won’t fall (~Sia, Titanium)
The battle doesn't end there. Even when the villain is exposed as the enemy who snaked his way into your heart, he will reach for one more manipulative tool: the illusion of remorse.
I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. And I regret all the ugliness. The truth is I really care about you. I wanted to leave you with loving words, that’s all. These tactics won't work on you anymore. Once the monster is exposed for who he really is the apologies hold no weight. These sentiments are empty because they came too late, and they came after the emotional terrorism that should never have existed in the first place. “I’m sorry” is a lie. “Loving words” are a lie. The so-called “ugliness” can't be undone, unsaid, unheard, and most of all, forgiven. The damage is done. Once the abuser conducted total destruction and misused your love, your trust, and your loyalty, there is nothing left for him to come back to. His attempts to repair are futile. Things between you two aren't simply broken – that’s an understatement. They are shattered beyond recognition.
