Picking back up with not feeling safe to tell someone about what was happening and feeling ungrateful if I did. I’ve already talked about how Nina Faye twisted things to make someone the villain and her the victim. She only grieved so long as it got her what she needed. She often piously reminds people that you “shouldn’t speak ill of the dead” until it didn’t suit her. When she needed a new way to get sympathy or validation from someone, Nina Faye would flip everything around and say horrible things about “those she felt wronged by” that weren’t even true or that she exaggerated. This was all so that she could become the victim of whoever that could no longer defend themselves.
I had to be better. I wanted to be different. I was a survivor. When I started this Journey, I wanted to tell my story of survival and healing. Like a “What NOT to do to Fuck Up Your Kids”. Often deprogramming myself, using writing as my favorite medium. Maybe someone, somewhere will see that they aren’t alone and there is hope. An epiphany came recently when I read those last two or three posts. When I sat down with my own demons. I am a victim of some shitty things, of a mother who was more concerned with self-righteousness and sucking the very life-force out of everyone she touched than being a mom to the daughter she birthed or a loving wife to Dad or Eddie. She was a mother, wife, caregiver, pious woman, reliable worker, pick a role… only when she could get something from it. There was always an ulterior motive. I was one of her many victims, for 47 long, painful years.
Victims are those that have been hurt, wounded, and sometimes lost, due to the abusive actions of others. The abuse doesn’t have to be intentional, sometimes people don’t know anything different. That’s not an excuse, but that’s a post for later. The point is that anyone can be a victim. And anyone can be a survivor. (Sometimes, a victim can become a perpetrator.) It’s how you look at it, how you heal, how you fight and travel on your journey.
As I sit here with my thoughts, reflecting on my upbringing and into my adulthood, I constantly feel torn. I finally understand that I can be a victim and still be a survivor. Instead of letting my trauma control me, I choose to use it. It became a tool. I have used the wounds left on my soul to carefully craft my armor of scars and dragon scales that now protects the heart I wear out for all to see. My past experiences, as traumatic as they were for me, do influence the decisions I make and how I subconsciously interact with people in my life, both past and present. I’m slowly learning that there are better, healthier ways.
The worst and most destructive habit I have that hinders my healing is seeing some of the red flags and knowingly putting them to the back of my mind. (I call them my “WTF moments”) I try too hard to see the beauty and love in people, to try to trust, and I want to believe that not everyone has an ulterior motive. Maybe I want to see the good in people. I crave friendship and connection so much that I’m willing to not care about the red flags. More than a few times I’ve been hurt, sometimes physically. This is how I live day-to-day due to how my childhood trauma and how my mind was manipulated and programmed. “It’s ok. It’s not them, it’s me. It’s my fault because (excuse).” I know it, I see it, and I ignore it. Consciously repeating the negative mantra and forcefully convincing myself that what is happening or being said is normal.
The way past trauma is minimized by those that say, “your trauma doesn’t define you” is just horrible and dismissive. My opinion? STFU! YES, it does define me. It’s what created the Me that is sitting here questioning the crap in my head. Hopefully I won’t struggle with these issues for the rest of my life.
Here is where I’m going to go back to part 1 and Where I’ve Been and then move into Where I’m Going. ALL of this will tie together by the end. February is when I realized I was broken, and I needed to be out of my marriage. I was also aware that Ihnzo wasn’t going to make it easy. I had to find a way to sever whatever ties or relationship was left. I needed to make him hate me, a damn near impossible task. I knew he loved me and that love was never our problem. I have also known that he was fighting his own army of demons. Our own personal pain was our weakness, our own worst enemy in our marriage. Even though I had made progress in learning to not project my pain onto others or toward him, I still make mistakes. The hardest part of finding a way out was that I would have to become the worst version of myself to find peace. The thought left me riddled with guilt before I even had a plan.
For 10+ years I was friends, besties maybe, with Maggie. We met while our spouses were getting treatment for military injuries. They didn’t get along, but she and I did. We bonded over our shared experiences of being caregivers. As time passed, we grew closer and began to share more of the intimate day-to-day struggles of being married to wounded veterans. Being a caregiver to anyone is not an easy path to choose. Support is crucial. Maggie would eventually get to the level of comfort that she began sharing too much. I would eventually get a personal perspective into their bedroom issues. I didn’t mind at first because talking about sex as adults should be normal with people you trust. We didn’t see eye to eye because of religious or spiritual views. She is very religious in her views on sex and marriage. I’m not. So long as EVERYTHING is consensual both ways and no one is getting hurt, it’s not really my business. I also firmly believe in divorce and that monogamy is not for everyone or every relationship. Eventually I would try to set a boundary because our views were so conflicting, and she was getting into more and more oversharing. I didn’t feel comfortable discussing these types of intimate details with her. People will do what they want though, I guess. She continued to talk about the details of her bedroom antics, getting ever more detailed. I tried turning up the radio, blocking her out, changing the subject, even giving minimal advice. Nothing was working. I understand now, she didn’t give a rat’s ass about my boundaries or comfort. I would think to myself, “you’re complaining about having sex when you should be grateful. I’m envious of you.” And I even tried to say something about how she sounded ungrateful. Someone said it’s like bitching about an overcooked steak to a starving man. Anyway… people. So, yeah, I put up with this for six or so years, with it gradually escalating.
The following is a summary of my viewpoint of events at the time they happened, with minimal reflection. I am throwing myself under a loaded semi-truck on this and taking responsibility. I have been told multiple times to stop taking as much responsibility as I am. I’m working on that.
On February 6, 2025, it was as if a metaphorical door was shown to me with a neon sign on it. I didn’t open it and peek in; I kicked that bitch in. That night I texted “Leeroy” an explicit question based on curiosity from things that Maggie had told me. I was shocked that he responded so quickly with a straightforward answer. I said it sounded exaggerated but ok. His next text was about that he couldn’t believe he had just answered that so quickly and without thinking. I just smiled to myself and thought, “Game on”. A little voice in the back of my mind whispered that it was too easy and I needed to proceed with caution. I pushed the thought aside and ignored it. Through texts, calls, and in-person conversations, things moved very quickly over the next few days. Much quicker than I knew I could handle. It was getting out of control, my control. However, I kept telling myself I knew what I was doing and that I absolutely did have control of the situation. I made the excuse that Leeroy was just very comfortable and was someone I could trust. On the 11th, five days later, he accepted the invitation I had given and moved on me in their kitchen. A quick “taste”, he called it. No fireworks, just business. In my mind, I had all that I needed, and the game was over. I had my one-way ticket out. You are welcome to judge me. I don’t care. I will carry my own guilt of doing this till I die. I was, and still today, eaten up in guilt and remorse and self-loathing for allowing myself to fall to such a low point and degrade myself. Follow the thought process, though.
The next morning, I knew I had to be the one to tell Ihnzo of my “weakness” and subsequent transgression. I was expecting something close to his cold, callous past reactions. Instead, my world exploded in war-like proportions. There was a small altercation, nothing serious. This was unexpected, and I needed to change plans and leave sooner. Now I had to consider my safety. I think I was caught off guard by the fact that Ihnzo had never let his anger turn into rage. That morning, when I looked into his eyes, I looked into my own eyes and felt the fear that he must have felt so many times when I would break and rage from the fights between Nina and me. At that moment, I held and will always hold compassion for him for being caught in my hell-storm. Back to the timeline.
Leeroy would end up coming to rescue me that evening and I would spend the next few days with him and Maggie. Friday (ironically, Valentine’s Day), I was taken to my BiL’s house in the middle of the night. Ihnzo wouldn’t know of my whereabouts till almost midnight February 16th.
**Now it’s time to buckle up. The following is an email I sent Leeroy on February 24th, redacted just a little for privacy of the innocent. I BCC’d the original to Ihnzo, my Soul-Sister, and Maggie. This is how my past trauma fucks up my present life in real time. I apologize for the graphic nature of the email. I did try to censor when I could. You will notice [WTF] in a few places. Anything in (italics) is an edit for clarification. I inserted these during editing. I was hurt when I originally wrote this, among other mixed emotions. The [WTF] are for the little voice that whispered “WTF” in my mind and I ignored it and kept going. These are not in the original email. I will explain more at the end.**
>So many things I want to say. I’m going to start with a boundary. Maggie and (redacted) are family. I hope they will still be a part of my life after this. On to You. I don’t want to see you or hear your voice ever again.
A few days of forced silence and solitude (away) from you was what I needed. No contact from you helped to clear my mind. I will stand my ground and take full responsibility for having sex with you to get what I needed. I thought I played you into doing everything I wanted. I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting the situation with Ihnzo to go nuclear. I cannot apologize to Maggie enough for the wake of destruction I left.
On to the purpose of this conversation. I now realize you turned the playbook on me. All the talk of being concerned for my wellbeing was empty. You had every intention of turning me into a sidepiece without Maggie’s knowledge or permission. You said so many things (that I’m sure you’re going to deny) that made me highly cautious of you. Yet, the smooth concerned things you dripped were sweet poison.
You made me feel comfortable by trusting me enough to open up about yourself, little by little over the years. And you were typically the one that came to my rescue every time Ihnzo and I had a horrible fallout. You checked on me. I felt like you trusted me. I began to trust you. I don’t trust easy. Frankly, I don’t trust anyone. I loved you as much as I love Maggie. I’m sure you were aware that I often disagreed with how you treated her. I told you often you were an ass or a complete dick. But you loved her, you just had personal problems. My marriage on the other hand was a complete disaster.
Maggie felt comfortable (enough) with me (to) opening up about y’all’s sex life, among other things. Not the best thing for me because of my lack of sexual intimacy in my marriage. Last year, Maggie talked to me about you two agreeing to go to the underground club, (redacted). [WTF] In my opinion, not the best idea for you since you have a history of fucking around and you’ve admitted to it. I was shocked to say the least. I warned her that she needed to be mentally prepared for the consequences and potential issues that opening up the marriage could bring. Fast forward to late December (my guess). You and Maggie decided to let you start seeing and having casual sex with (redacted). [WTF] Eventually, like everything else, I was given a front row seat to the narrative. I was shown texts and told all of it. [WTF] Maggie and (redacted) compared notes on your anatomy. My curiosity was peaked. You and I began talking more around this time as well. So, I felt bold enough to ask you a question after not getting an answer from Maggie. I asked how big your d*** really was. That was a Thursday night, the 6th of February. Not the best decision. From there, you and I moved extremely quickly. I took responsibility from the beginning. You said you had been playing the long game, moving me to this moment for years. [WTF] I admitted that I was playing patient, waiting. I know now, you were right. You trapped me.
You told me several times lately that you had chosen Maggie because she was trainable. [WTF] I blew it off, pushing it to the back of my mind. You said that you had trained her to be and do everything you wanted, that she wouldn’t be a problem for us. I didn’t care about my marriage. As far as I was concerned, it was over. You told me she saw everything on your phone, all of the inappropriate texts, everything. I didn’t feel comfortable doing what we were about to do. I loved her too much. But you told me I needed this. And not to worry about her. Another part of me thought that if she let you screw (redacted), why I couldn’t I have a taste? I told you several times that I was giving you an open invitation. You already knew what I was going to say, what I wanted.
From February 6 to February 11, I was driven insane by you. I went to your house on Tuesday (02/11) to help clean, in a short skirt and apron. Just as promised. It didn’t take you long to bend me over the counter as soon as Maggie went to get (redacted) off the bus. A taste, you called it. From there, it was teasing and groping (me) when she wasn’t looking. We cleaned up (organized) the foyer by the door, never stopping the intense teasing. You went to the bedroom and asked me to help pick up a bit. Yeah, that didn’t even start. You closed the door, Maggie in her recliner in the living room. You took me in front of the dresser and moved me to the edge of the bed. Your wife was in the next fucking room! You reminded me how much I needed it. How I would feel so much better. You told me not to worry about Maggie, you would handle her.
I went home and there were texts. I made an excuse to go back over. You insisted I talk to Maggie. You said she ran to the store and I needed to call her (to) let her know I was on my (way) to talk. When I got there, you KNEW she wasn’t home and where she was! You bastard! It didn’t take me long to realize what you were up to. [WTF] You cornered me to come back over Tuesday night to talk to Maggie. You took me in the bedroom, again.
I talked to her that night as requested. She said that there were two conditions to have sex with you:
- I had to get permission from Ihnzo, and she had to hear him say it to her on the phone. Not gonna ever happen, but I would handle that.
- I was only allowed to have sex with you if she could be there to watch. Not even asking my permission. It was nonnegotiable. Not in this fucking lifetime.
I told her it was too late, we had already f****d in the kitchen and in her bedroom, that very afternoon. I told her I would never be able to apologize enough and that I never wanted her to forgive me. I would walk out the door and not look back if she wanted me to. She said she still loved me and not to let it happen again. Fucking hell, I was duped. I realize now, you do have her trained. But I knew in the pit of my stomach that Tuesday would not be the last time I would give in to you f*****g me. You would have your way. And I wasn’t going to fight it. What the fuck was wrong with me??
The next morning, I kept my promise to Ihnzo to tell the truth and not hide anything. No more lies. And I told him about what had happened with us. I wasn’t expecting him to go absolutely nuclear though. The details of that day are between Ihnzo and I from this point forward. At the end of the day, after calling in favors, YOU came to my rescue. The rest of it is a blur. I was in a very dark place for the next few days. But the shit between us never took a break. You teased and I played into it. You f****d me in the kitchen, if I remember, Wednesday night. Getting me (high) off (my) endorphins. You called into work Thursday night, letting them know you were going to have to miss Friday. Maggie left for a sub job shortly before noon on Friday. She wasn’t out of the house 30 minutes and we were in the bedroom. You were providing a service. I needed it to relax and de-stress. You would give me what I had been missing for too long. You fed into everything in my head. I continually took responsibility for what was happening between us. You never took responsibility. You said we shared it, but only to me. You never admitted anything to Maggie. You never admitted anything Ihnzo. You denied, denied, denied. I made excuses for you and Maggie. I justified her as having plausible deniability. It never happened if she just ignored it.
I now understand that she was groomed, trained, to turn a blind eye and say, “it’s fine”. IT’S NOT FUCKING FINE! You are a prick, an ass, a user. You don’t give a fuck about anyone but yourself. You said you would come out to East Texas to see me, check on me. I said Maggie was planning on bringing (redacted) out to see me during the summer once I was settled in somewhere more permanent. You said it wouldn’t be with Maggie. You joking called me a pocket pussy. [WTF] I heard that, and it wasn’t a joke. I realized then that you are the one that played me in the position you wanted me. Your mind fuck on the phone, and side piece at your convenience.
When I called you and told you that I was sicker than I thought and that Ihnzo dropped everything and was racing to (redacted) on the 20th, I could see your whole demeanor change just by your voice over the phone. And you’ll say it was because your brother or something had come out to check on you. But no, it changed when I told you that I was going radio silent for the next 3-4 days, because Ihnzo and I were going to use the opportunity to piece our marriage back together. Then I find out that Friday (the 21st), you got Maggie to contact my soul-sister, (redacted), to get her number because you wanted to talk to her so that you could check on me. THE FUCK?!?
Silence and solitude from hearing your sweet shit in my ear and worming into my head was all I needed for the pieces to fall into place. I can see what you did to me. I loved you like family, respected you, trusted you. And your whole objective was to turn me into another one of your bitches? Does Maggie know about the bartenders at (redacted)? Does (redacted)? How many other women have you turned into your ******?? How pissed are you that I slipped through your fingers? I was probably a prize. A rebellious, head strong fighter. A little stick of dynamite with a hunger for pain. And the fact that I stood up for you against Maggie’s family. Fuck, I was an idiot. There are 9 layers of Dante’s Hell, and you’ll have a stay in each one for the rest of eternity. You’re not even going to show this to Maggie, I’m pretty sure.
Back to the present…
Ihnzo did drop everything when I called and told him I was very sick and that I was advised to go home for further treatment. Stress is killer. He had picked up is chivalric armor, now beat-up and rusty, and was my knight again. I will write about this and all the love and healing we have done, in the next post. I don’t want everything to be negative and horrible. There have been so many sunny days and rainbows lately. I did end up cutting all contact with Leeroy and Maggie.
Throughout March I unpacked February and other related relationships to learn how and why I keep getting into situations with these types of people. I made two earth shattering epiphanies. The first… I. AM. VULNERABLE. More vulnerable than I ever realized. Which lead into the second ground shaking epiphany. I am a VICTIM. I am also damn SURVIVOR! I am a strong, resilient, and courageous survivor. However, I was a victim of child trauma first.
The other important part of all of this is learning how my past trauma has defined me. It defines how I make decisions, usually the bad ones. It shaped and influenced every aspect of my life until now. I have to consciously think about tiny things in my everyday life and slowly change them. I realized that I choose a seat at a restaurant or coffee shop that gives me view and access to all exits. Hypervigilance at it’s finest. This is how past trauma defines your life. The crap I survived heavily influenced what happened in February and before that. I saw the WTF moments and ignored them. “This is what normal friendship is. It’s not them making me uncomfortable and ignoring my boundaries. It’s me not being understanding and empathetic. I’m being selfish.” Which turned into him saying, “Let me help you. Let me comfort you. You trust me.” To me believing and giving in and going along. I crave companionship, trust, and connection. I repeatedly ignore my own instincts and let others demolish my boundaries to fulfill that deep desire. Setting myself up for hurt and pain, and a few times putting myself in danger. I now work every day to reprogram my mind, change the OS to the correct one; weeding out the bugs as I find them. No one, in their right mind, would make a conscious, informed decision to surround themselves with toxic people that use and abuse them. Instead, they make conscious decisions to work and change the habits and thoughts that are detrimental to their life. They work to fill their circle with loving, safe, supportive people that respect their boundaries. That is how trauma fucks people up and defines them. I am redefining myself.
If you finished reading this one, Blessed Be and Thank You! I’m so sorry this one was twice the normal length. I just felt that splitting into a third part would break the flow. Again, thank you! So many HUGS and Much Love!!
(Last minute edit: I wanted to post this sooner, but therapy has helped me to continue unpacking the darkest recesses of this storage unit. One that I was not ready for. There will be a follow up to this post, going into the darker thoughts of why and how I continue going toward people that have ill-intent toward me. Like that metaphorical moth to a flame.)
FEAR by Blue October (second verse)
I’m up here
I’m looking at the way down there
I’m staring through the I don’t care
It’s staring back at me
The beauty is
I’m learning how to face my beast
Starting now to find some peace
Set myself free, yeah
Today
I don’t have to fall apart
I don’t have to be afraid
I don’t have to let the damage consume me
My shadow see through me
‘Cause fear in itself
Will reel you in and spit you out
Over and over again
Believe in yourself
And you will walk
And now, fear in itself
Will use you up and break you down
Like you were never enough
I used to fall but now I get back up
Written by: Blue Miller / Justin Furstenfeld
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