Mirroring Abuse

I was a very awkward and shy child. I felt everything in the room and being an empathic child, I felt every raised eyebrow, every hunched shoulder, every time someone gave someone else a look that said, “she’s awkward and weird” and every back ever turned toward me as my fault. And I would take it all personally. It only ever served to eat away my self-confidence, making me even more awkward.

As I got older I realized many things about people and perceptions. I realized that I wasn’t the person those people perceived me to be. Their perceptions about me didn’t match who I was so I didn’t have to be directly responsible for giving them what they expected. In making that break, I became the person I truly am and those people are no longer in my life.  I lived for 20 years in abuse. I guess I’m an expert.

Throughout my fair existence on this beloved Earth I have learned how to manifest my desires and be at peace within myself. I have faced violence by being the mirror and reflecting back what was directed toward me, successfully and peacefully. I mirrored back the pain and anger and turned it around each time. I didn’t re-Act to the person. Instead I responded in a responsible way and was never harmed.

I’ll explain. My first marriage was turbulent to say the least. It started as a war zone – one trying to establish dominance when that person had no idea who he was – or that he was married to a free spirit. You can’t cage a free spirit in any way. He tried and failed miserably. I never saw that side of him til after the wedding vows. I stood my ground when he threatened to hit me. He was much bigger than I was and I knew I’d never be able to beat him physically. All I had were words. So I told him if he were going to hit me that he’d better kill me, because if he didn’t I’d make him wish he had. That made him stop and think. When he stopped I used more words. I told him he liked to sleep too much and I was really good with a baseball bat. That made him think some more. Then I threatened his “stuff” like his motorcycle. I told him he wouldn’t recognize it if he let me get up after he hit me so he may as well kill me right now this f’ing minute.

I mirrored his violence back at him and he didn’t like it at all. He never did hit me. Not ever in the 20 years we were together. He used other means to try to tear me down – emotionally. It worked for awhile. He had me wondering if it was me that was nuts. But somewhere into the early years I figured out that it wasn’t me at all. He would call me names and I even mirrored that back when I said to him, “well, if I’m all those things it sure doesn’t say much for your taste in women.” He stopped calling me names after that. Another time, after I was sick of his foul language, I began talking like he talked. One day he looked at me and said, “That language sounds terrible coming from you!” I simply said, “If I have to listen to it motherfucker so do you!” After that he stopped swearing so much. Becoming the mirror was working!

He walked a fine line between sanity and insanity and it wasn’t my cross to bear. I let him go early on but stayed because I never had the desire to start again. Until someone came along after awhile and showed me how good life could be.

I knew I’d never sacrifice my life or sanity to another man again. That was the gift given to me by my first marriage and I took that away with me and lived happily for awhile until my second husband did an about face when he stopped drinking. Alcohol was his curse. Or was it a lack of alcohol?  I get confused.  But that’s another story.