Abusive relationships are inherently conditional, performative connections. If partner V does not do exactly as partner A prefers, then partner V will pay. And that payment is painful – it’s punishment, humiliation, blame. 

I’m taking a class through Leslie Vernick’s ministry, and the topic today covered 2 unhealthy relationship patterns: 

1. One person (A) in a relationship refuses to take responsibility for their thoughts/actions/feelings/words/attitudes. Instead the person blames their partner (V). It’s V’s fault and A is the victim. 
2. One person (V) in a relationship assumes ALL the responsibility for the thoughts/actions/feelings/words/attitudes of the other partner (A). 

Leslie Vernick says, “Healthy relationships are not based on dependency, but on love.” 

When I think about my marriage, my husband’s pattern was to blame any uncomfortable/painful feeling he was feeling internally on me. I was his coping mechanism (I still am, because he is still doing this while we are separated). If something was stressful, instead of looking inward, he would look outward to make sense of this hurt. And He would look to me first, and he would always find something. Whether it was disagreeing on a milk order, running 4 minutes late, not answering my phone quickly enough, not keeping the kids quiet enough, asking him a question at a time that was inconvenient, there was always something. No matter how trivial, he could blow it up to explain the immense pain he felt inside. 

While I could usually figure out what was wrong with him (and how he was misfiring), his attacks always hurt and left wounds that I’m still tending to. And a significant wound is the lie that people don’t want to know me because i’m unlikable. The conditional love that I experienced in marriage rewired parts of my heart that made me forget the best parts of me. This rewiring programmed me to think that people will like me if I have something to offer – because I am not enough as I am. 

Since my separation has begun, I have been trying to be intentional about building deeper friendships. After 9 years of isolation, I know I need to be connected and I need new voices in my head to rebut the loudest voice inside: my husband’s. And this endeavor of making friends has been harrowing. I’ve only known friendship in 2 ways: 1) where we’re both doing fine and we have fun and we slowly get closer 2) where the other person is having a hard time, and I show up for them as a friend, and we get closer. 

This is the first time where I’m getting closer to people where I am the one in need. And this has been the most frightening experience. Because if my husband has convinced me that I’m not loveable as I am, then HOW IN THE WORLD will people like me at my most needy? 

But in the most beautiful turn of events, my friends have shown up for me in a way that shakes the lies that have embedded themselves like trees. One friend told me that she also has been wanting to get deeper and would love to walk with me and take our friendship “to the next level”. Another has texted me so often to make sure I’m ok, to remind me of my worth, and to tell me that I’m doing such a great job. She invites me over and we cry over my life and then we laugh and chat over work adventures. And another friend has embraced me and my kids – having our kids play while we both share deeply about what’s happening in our respective lives. To her, my separation is not earth-shattering. It is part of life. And she is not shaken or intimidated. She approaches me with ease and calm that tells me “I’m ok. I’m not a mess”. And one dear friend, messages me at the most important times to debrief, to give me freedom to weep with her or to have my own private space. She gives me wisdom and funny memes. She brings me into her life as I bring her into mine. She brings a sense of mutuality in our friendship that I have forgotten how to seek. 

Now that I refuse to be responsible for my husband’s feelings/thoughts/actions, I have found this entire reservoir of energy. As I reclaim this energy as mine, I’m grateful to spend it on things that bring life: on healing, on daring to face my fear, to rebut lies, and to nurture healthy relationships.