I was on and off birth control almost as frequently as we were on and off with our relationship. In May, immediately before taking that foolish leap into marriage, I had had an ectopic pregnancy and needed to be hospitalized. My ex was there through it all and that endeared me to him. Before we found out it was ectopic, I bled and thought I was having a miscarriage. The pain was sharp and constant, everyday. I held on waiting for a doctor’s appointment, praying that everything would be alright, hoping that I was one of those 3% (or whatever the statistic is) of women who bleed and still have a normal pregnancy. Yes, at that time I had wanted that baby.
Finally I had to go to the emergency room. The hormones, anesthesia, the drugs, the emotions, they all clouded my mind, but I wouldn’t realize exactly how much until later. That experience was painful, physically and emotionally, but had it not happened that way, I would’ve had a child with my ex. The thought of this brought forth an epiphany about life that I had buried. To this day when I think about it I can sense the regret that would have been; regret at having chosen the wrong person to father my child, and having to live with that decision for the rest of my life. That sense of regret can be measured by my level of contentment with it having not happened.
My ex’s mother use to tell me she thought he would be a good father, but I never saw it quite that way for reasons I will soon elaborate on. It was true he really wanted to be a father, but that didn’t mean he would be a good one; at least not then. What would he teach a child? Nothing from what I could tell; nothing that I valued, I could see it in his actions, words and life. Though the loss was hurtful I feel like I, along with the next generation, had dodged a bullet. Let me explain why.
About ten days after my surgery, we got married. It only took about a month after getting married, once everything was out of my system, for me to admit I had made a mistake and wanted a divorce. I even stated we could do it quietly and without having to tell anyone, knowing how important image was to him. My ex was unwilling to even consider divorce and, staying true to what had worked for him before, argued me down and convinced me to keep trying for a little while longer.
The physical abuse started in July, about two months after our marriage. The second time he became violent was at the end of July. We were at Blue Martini inside Town Square and had been sitting together making small talk over the loud music. I was waiting as I usually do for a song to come on that would be so irresistible it would make me glide to the dance floor. It was crowded but with a fun atmosphere, a good night. I was wearing my favorite pastel pink dress; sleeveless, comes mid-calf, and looks like it is painted on when I wear it. Topping it off with strappy gold heels, I was looking good and feeling good too.
The day had been normal, so this was supposed to be one of those nights I could refer to and say “Oh, there were good times between us”, but unfortunately that’s not how it turned out. I got up a couple times to mingle with some people I knew. After having a few drinks, my ex turned the nature of our conversation from small talk to argumentative. There was no provocation, no disagreement that could have initiated it. The liquor had melted his walls and inhibitions and now he was being himself. This time though, I intended to overcome his attitude.
I just wanted to have a good time and enjoy the night, the daily arguments had me worn down and tired inside, but there was always something. I decided to change my strategy in dealing with him. Rather than being bullheaded and pushing back, I refused to participate or feed into his negativity; I ignored him and wouldn’t respond to his confrontational comments or questions. When my ex saw that he wasn’t going to receive the attention he desired, he became more agitated to the point where he began to act as if it was just the two of us in a room. No more waiting for an irresistible song to come on, remaining silent I got up from our table and walked rhythmically to the dance floor determined not to become engaged in his low vibration. He followed close behind.
Dancing is my thing so I quickly got into my zone and allowed my body language to imply that he could join me in my happy moment or remain an angry bystander, but either way I was going to change the mood and have fun. Initially he stood on the outskirts of the dance floor, drink in hand; I let the music overpower his voice and pretended not to hear him still ranting. Eventually he decided to join and immediately he became oppressive, hanging over my shoulders and constricting my movement.
Maintaining my good mood I simply moved forward slightly or playfully asked him to stop. His response was to stop in the middle of the dance floor and tone over the music in my ear asking me why I was ok with dancing with other men like that but not with him. That’s what his mind was on in spite of all the goings on around us. He wanted to argue in the middle of the dance floor, but still I wouldn’t cave. I continued dancing not only to enjoy myself but also to show him that I wasn’t riding the same negative wavelength he was on.
Unfortunately, that was his goal, to bring me down. Isn’t it crazy how at any given moment such a thing can be someone’s only mission? That’s what negative people do when you are on a higher vibration than them; when they can’t get up to your level they will try to bring you down to theirs. As I’ve stated before, negative people cannot create, they only take. You will find them in crowds feeding off the happiness outside of themselves; they blend in and try to smile and look happy when really they are piggybacking off on the moments of others. Being around them, especially on an individual level and over time, drains you of energy and good mood. Right there on the dance floor I was seeing and experiencing this in action yet again.
After going back and forth several times, the whole scene just became one big embarrassment and I was ready to leave, early. Walking off the dance floor, I headed towards the entrance. My ex lagged behind this time and for a moment I thought of losing him going off, and being able to enjoy myself. This venue was too small for that; surely he would stalk me through the place then be more pissed that I had ditched him, and surely he would use that to feed another argument.
We left Blue Martini and though I continued to speak very little, I could feel my attempt to remain free from his negative influence was beginning to waver. On the way to the car it was me telling him he was being embarrassing and him telling me I was getting mad about him dancing with me the way other men do when I go out clubbing. This was all over him feeling insecure. It wasn’t an argument worth having but rather an issue he needed to address within himself.
He continued and the negative vibes joined us all the way back to the car. Initially he stood in between me and the passenger’s side door so I couldn’t get in. This was an attempt to force me to engage with him. I still wouldn’t speak; it would’ve been equivalent to accepting his invite to argue. He eventually moved and opened the door, but continued ranting loudly from outside the open driver’s side door. I only responded to say “Let’s go” or “I’m not going to argue with you”. People were walking by in silent observation as he yelled which was further embarrassing. Those old familiar thoughts and feelings began to well up in me once again; that nothing about him or our relationship was worth all the trouble and grief they brought. Nothing, none of this was worth my happiness.
“Oh my gaahd! I am so sick of this! I don’t want this anymore! I DON’T WANT THIS MARRIAGE!” I finally yelled, drawing out my words with every intention of not being misunderstood.
That was becoming my classic line in our relationship. My ex then got into the car, reached over and grabbed me by the hair pulling my head back as he began yelling into my ear. He held on for about a minute, though it felt much longer of course. It wasn’t a shock by then, it almost felt normal that he would do such a thing. This was the second time, and with all the arguments, it was clear now he was that type. He was an abuser.
What’s more was that at this point I was starting to realize that he had been this way all along; those close to him probably knew, but never said. I may have ignored the red flags that indicate it before, but now there surely was no denying it. His controlling behavior, his insecurities, his stalking and sneaky tendencies, were all things that gave away his potential to be abusive long before he ever actually touched me.
“Take me home!” I immediately yelled once he let go.
He got back out of the car and slammed his palms onto the driver’s seat like a gorilla.
“What?!” he yelled, “What, I’ve tried everything!”
He reached for the gun he kept under the driver’s seat of his truck and in an instant I thought I might end up on the news.
“You want me to blow my brains out?!” he screamed fumbling with the gun.
I thought not to speak; he might do it, or shoot me instead.
Remaining calm I looked at him and put a hand up,
“No, I do not want you to shoot yourself.” I said slowly keeping my tone below his.
He continued to yell, gun in hand,
“What do you want me to do?!” his voice began to reach a desperate pitch.
I looked away and straight ahead out the front window,
“Put the gun away.” I said firmly.
My goal was to bring his frantic behavior back down by not matching his intensity with fear or panic. I didn’t even want to look at him for it would only feed his desire for attention. That was why he had pulled the gun out in the first place, to get my attention. He eventually put the gun away and got back into the car, this time closing the door. I kept my silence the whole drive home, in spite of his comments along the way.
We all know children act out, children will do anything for attention, and children often turn to foolish behaviors to get what they desire. Children in adult bodies though can be dangerous, and that’s exactly what I was dealing with. My ex had just thrown a very dangerous temper tantrum.
Many people grow old but never grow up. I don’t mean in the way that some stay “young at heart”, I mean some people grow in years and size but their emotional development remains like that of a child. We are given our emotions at birth, from then we are capable of sensing and feeling. It is only with time that we learn to identify and articulate our emotions for what they are, and it is only with education and practice that we learn how to master our emotions.
One of our many problems as a society is that we are not passing on proper handling of emotions down to our children, as this didn’t happen for us. It has created a viscous cycle in which people try to suppress or create stigmas associated with certain emotions in an attempt to avoid something they don’t understand how to control. We don’t know how to feel but innately we want to feel. This has caused us to focus on chasing after things that don’t matter thinking they will make us feel good, rather than focusing on the things that do matter and that do build up everyone, everything, and subsequently make the individual feel good as well.
Our hearts are the figurative brains of our souls, just as grey matter composes the literal brains of our physical bodies. The heart interprets all feelings just as the brain interprets all senses. Each emotion can be ignored, suppressed or even damaged, just as the senses can. We generally don’t intentionally suppress our senses and brain function; so why our emotions? Suppressed or damaged emotions often result in a disturbed human being; the heart’s equivalent to the brain’s mental disability.
Say you have an adult with a form of mental retardation, his brain only functions at the level of a 6 year old though he is 39. The same is the case with people who have stunted emotional growth. They don’t know how to express themselves, they don’t know how to handle certain feelings, they were never taught! They can only operate at that level, in the case of this example that would be the level of a 6 year old. The emotions don’t go away though; and the difference between emotional damage and brain damage is that those who have been emotionally damaged have a choice. They can choose to become better, there are fewer excuses. I myself have had to make such choices.
You’ve heard it before: just as we go to the gym to work out our bodies we need to work out our hearts, souls and our minds. We need to educate ourselves about ourselves, deeply. What feels right? Does it hurt others? Are the things we do, as individuals and as a society, building us up and sustaining our planet? Are we evolving? Are YOU evolving? The reason we are in the state we are in with our food, our resources our politics, our overall priorities is because we don’t feel and that leaves us out of touch
Ideas like men shouldn’t show weakness or feel vulnerable, anger is bad, crying can only mean you’re sad, jealousy should be suppressed, they’re such nonsense and people try to conform to these ideas and exhibit emotions based on what they were taught rather than what they feel is right, intuitively. All emotions should be felt and addressed.When we teach and conform to cookie cutter ways of interpreting and expressing emotions we miss out on the ability to become masters of ourselves, which is one of the greatest achievements of life’s journey. We also miss out on opportunities to better our surroundings. Why do we continue to let society tell and teach us how to be ourselves? A society that consistently shows that it either doesn’t know what it is doing or doesn’t have the greater good at heart.
Our priorities are misguided, we disrespect, misuse, and abuse our planet, our brothers and sisters from other kingdoms (plant, animal, etc.), and especially ourselves! All because we don’t know how to feel; we don’t take the time to truly get in tune with ourselves and our surroundings. Then, we have children whom we cannot teach how to do such things, because we ourselves do not know. We would rather believe what we are told about how each emotion should be handled; it is easier that way, but detrimental beyond our fathoming.
Our children should question their teachers, challenge them intellectually, and we should remind our children not to blindly believe everything they are told, especially if the explanation doesn’t make sense. Innocent curiosity lends to creativity and depth of thought. Our children need to know that we support them 100% in their curiosities and search for knowledge, they should not fear anyone. We should not stand for our children being fed feelings of fear and intimidation to force their conformity. Even though I make these positive efforts and more with my own daughter, I see how strong the reinforcements are in our educational system. I can feel the resistance between what I tell her and what she learns in school, what she sees everyone else going along with.
Within the sea of society we are slowly starting to wake up and realize that what our children are being taught in schools is not enough. Yes we need academics, but our schools are institutions for teaching societal conformity, no doubt about it. Children also need to be taught how to care for self internally and we need to step up as individuals and do it from home. What is being taught in schools outside of academics breeds a slave mindset. Why are we not taught the importance of inventing, of sustaining, of doing what the heart wants to do? Because what the heart wants is not what is best for the agenda of the matrix.
To teach something we of course need to understand it for ourselves first. Those who don’t take the time to strengthen their hearts and master their emotions cannot pass that on to children they have. What most people know is what they were taught in school and at home; mastery of emotions along with an understanding of how the body, mind and soul are intertwined are not common subjects in either arena.
Raising strong and free thinking children is not as easy as it should be in this world, and all I have discussed here is just the tip of the iceberg. We can raise great doctors and lawyers, day laborers, customer service agents, insurance sales people, plumbers and accountants, but where are our thinkers? Where are our inventors, our doers, our advocates? Where are our Malcolms and our Martins, our Einsteins and our Teslas? They’re out there being taught to conform; they’re being taught by parents and teachers how not to truly feel. Then as adults their skills are hoarded to benefit selfish gain.
This is why I felt like I had dodged a bullet in not having a child with my ex. That person I’ve described to you would have had influence on the mindset of another generation, and even with the mindset I was in at the time it only spelled trouble for any children we may have had together. His desire to have children was great, so I don’t doubt that he is still looking to make that happen; I only hope he cleans up his mind and soul before having children. There is no doubt he will pretend to, but I truly hope that he does it for real. I hope we all do.
*Music by: Pascaal – Rain Jacket