The abuse formally known as....Love

This morning I woke up upset. Terribly upset. But not the kind of upset that makes you want to cry. 


The kind of upset that makes you want to write.

So lets talk about the thing that I have been so afraid to discuss. Lets talk about the thing that we fail to acknowledge because it is carefully wrapped up in I love you's and I am just being honest with you's. Lets talk about emotional abuse. 

You know what is crazy? I am literally scared to write about this, because the first symptom of emotional abuse is the inability to recognize it. I got out of a relationship some time ago, and I have been terribly afraid to acknowledge that my insides have been scarred. I didn't realize what had happened to me until one day I had the courage to open up to my oldest sister. I didn't realize what had happened to me until I sat and cried to my friends, listing out all the things that he had said because he cared.

I didn't realize that a relationship built on the foundation of my perfectly shattered physical presentation was not normal. I am deathly afraid of dating because I no longer have the strength to talk about being fat in the hopes that exposing my insecurities and false hopes for my future skinny self will make him stay long enough to want to help me. I no longer have the strength to pretend that I am unhappy with myself to give him the power to think that his words will change me. I no longer have the strength to be scared of skinny women. I no longer have the patience to follow his eyes as we walk into a room, trailing behind them as he looks lustfully at her hips, her butt, and her perfectly curved waist. As he worships them with his eyes, leaving me worship what couldn't be me. ever.

I no longer have the strength to stay with a man that will "cheat" on you, whether physically or emotionally because you are too scared to admit that your smarts, your intelligence and your hard earned success will NEVER be enough to keep him home, or out of her inbox.

I get told all the dam time that I am pretty, I am smart and I am incredibly beautiful. But those words mean nothing to me. Because I have come to learn that pretty can never compete with a body. I have learned that smart can never compete with her sexy. I have learned that unfortunately I still blame the actions of a man on the existence of another woman.

I can no longer write about this. Because I have innate fear to write about this. I have fear that my phone will ring, or my inbox will be flooded again. I have fear that the one who damaged me will take away this slowly growing power of healing, by making me feel that my emotions that I have so carefully sewn together in this post never existed.

They never existed because all he was doing was being honest.

Emotional abuse is a real thing. I cannot tell you the symptoms, because I am still in denial. I can only tell you that if you stand in the mirror two years later, and you still hear the whispers of his voice as you look at the body you learned to hate....get help.

Disclaimer: Stories captured in this post reflect my total journey as a plus sized woman in the dating world. This is not specifically geared towards one person, or an assassination of character. I share my stories because too many women are silent or afraid to speak up about things that affect them. This is why I blog.