Editor’s Note: The following was posted as a comment by the Lovefraud reader, NewLife43. I thought everyone should see it.
I had a small epiphany today while driving back from the grocery store. What, exactly, did the spath give me that I find so difficult to let go? I have been married twice before and when those marriages were over, I was sad and wished that they hadn’t ended the way that they had. But neither one of them was like this 8 year relationship! I was still the same person, what was so different this time? Why couldn’t I release it and move on with my life?
Neither one of my ex-husbands were like the spath. In fact, NO ONE had ever made me feel like he did. And by that I mean, no one had ever made me as physically sick, scared, confused, bewildered, ashamed, lost, financially devastated”¦well, you get the picture. Most of us on here have been decimated, humiliated and degraded by this sub-human species. What is wrong with us that we cannot LET THEM GO? We shouldn’t just be glad to kiss them good-bye, we should be kicking them goodbye! And instead, many of us would take them back in a heartbeat.
Why? Because they gave us something we so deeply needed, that the world ended the same time that the relationship did. I don’t know what everyone else received from their spath, but I do know what I got from mine. He made me feel loved and accepted in a way I had never been before. He made me feel beautiful on my worst days. He shrugged off my bad moods and laughed me out of them. He ignored any insults I hurled his way and didn’t hold them against me. I could be my most terrible self and he still called me “His Queen”. Since he couldn’t possibly make a mistake in his choice of romantic partner (in his mind, anyway) I was the perfect woman for him. In a way, he did create the world we lived in and so much of it was wonderful, fun, interesting and never, never boring. But. The price I paid was tremendous and I will have to pay it for a while yet. I know that this relationship, this world of his, wasn’t ever real, but you know, it sure felt real. More real than anything I had ever experienced in my life. Those are pretty special feelings and he doesn’t them own, unless I let him.
My spath must have said “I don’t care” at least a thousand times over the course of our time together. And he meant it. What would bother a normal person, he was able to simply shrug off. It was a lesson to me to lighten up my very serious view of the world. Sometimes, things really don’t matter. (Another of his sayings). When I would get upset because something had broken and I would now have to spend the money to replace it, he said, “Things break, they wear out. Why are you getting so upset?” So I would stop and reevaluate what was important. I appreciated that viewpoint and still remember to tell myself that when yet again, something breaks.
I loved his sense of fun, it was so child-like. And although his version of fun would wear thin sometimes when it was inappropriate conduct, I tolerated it because I was thrilled by it. He really lived like somebody left the gate open! I couldn’t have been less like him if I had tried and his way of approaching life helped swing me more to the middle of the road than constantly riding the bumpy shoulder. How sad, for him, for us, that he had no idea when to stop pushing the envelope. Not realizing that what he was doing was hurting so many people. And it caused so much legal trouble in his life. How I wish that he could have kept that sense of joie de vivre without spinning out of control. Sigh! And one day, he didn’t care and I didn’t matter. My heart was broken.
I loved him very much. I still do. But the point is, I have the capacity to love someone and he doesn’t. He never will. Good for me! That means even if I don’t quite know how yet, I will be able to move on. It’s so very, very hard.
So what did he give me? He gave me complete acceptance and what I believed was love, in a way no one had before. And I had an opportunity to explode with genuine love for another person. He made me feel beautiful, no matter what and I am grateful for that.
And even if it was all an illusion, who here wouldn’t go back just for a day when we were first being love-bombed by our spath? Unfortunately, we can’t go back. The good news is, we can find a way to give deep love and acceptance to ourselves! This IS good news!
The spath uncovered our deepest needs and showed us how we can feel about ourselves, through their eyes. Who says we can’t feel that way again? Now this is my goal which I will reach for every single day for the rest of my life. And I have him to thank for that. I didn’t know before I met him that I could be wholly acceptable in someone’s eyes. Only now it’s my eyes. I can love-bomb myself.
If you are old enough, you may remember the poem, “Desiderata”. The best line was: “For all its pain, drudgery and broken dreams, it’s still a beautiful world. Strive to be happy”. Because if I give happiness to myself, then no one can ever take it away from me again. And it can’t be that hard to help myself feel that way again. If the spath can do it, then ANYONE can! What I finally understood is that it’s not him I miss or want back (he comes packaged with too much pain), it’s those amazing feelings. You know they’re already in you. He (or she) doesn’t have a copyright on them. Go get them, everyone!
Petite, TOWANDA on you!
Seems to me that he wasn’t there on purpose, in the hope to hurt your feelings beause he couldn’t even come to your lecture. Little did he know that was actually what you preferred! Don’t let him know that either 😉
Petite,
LOL! Darwinsmom is right. He didn’t show up to try to hurt your feelings, but you were glad.
See? spaths really don’t “get” us. They don’t understand that we DON’T want to see them. They can’t accept that they are not “all that” and we aren’t pining over them. To accept that would mean that they aren’t the gods they imagine themselves to be.
dear sky, truth, dmom,
yes, he must have surely thought that I will look for him at the lecture and then when I don’t see him, I will call him in the hotel by finding out his room no. or send him a email.
I did none of the above.
I was waiting to leave Romania and that hotel where he was also there.
I am now for another meeting in Milan, Itlay, a lot of us flew from Romania to Milan.
he is also here in Milan but not in my hotel. he has no talks and I have 2 talks. also in Milan the meeting is huge unlike Romania, so I do not fear seeing him, hopefully not.
I alos feel that he is a bit jealous of me professionally as he cannot pull that ‘”big and famous doctor crap” on me as I am as much a doctor as he is, hence he may prefer those who worship him for his looks and profession.
Infact in romania, I got more attention than him, more light hearted male attention and he saw that and said “oh, all are crazy for you” but I thinkin his heart he felt quite disgusted.
anyway, he is a virus, I have to sing that song every minute, that is my only way to succeed.
thanks
petite
Petite, awesome. I hope that you will recognize what a powerful experience you’ve just had.
That you are a doctor, a female doctor, survived a spath encounter, and emerged to realize your incredible potential is amazing. Don’t you feel powerful?!?!
And, you’re giving lectures and he isn’t! LMAOLMAOLMAO!!!! He hates that he can’t harm you, anymore, and he hates even more that you are valuable.
TOWANDA TWICE!!!!!!!!!!!
thanks Truth,
I am not sure if he was asked to speak and he refused or he was not asked. I must say he is very knowledgeable in his area and intenrantionally well known for his work, however, he does not mingle much and socialise unless there is something in it for him and I am a social bird, so that kind of bugs him., I think.
anyway, he must be thinking he is winning big time with me and let him gloat in his victory.
i have to remember that all he is doing is ruining another woman’s life just now.
petite
Dear Petite,
Glad that all went well with your talk in Romania and I know it will go well in your talks in Italy. You have been doing these talks and demonstrations for quite a few years now and you obviously are respected by your peers in your medical field or you would not be invited to talk at so many places each year.
You have made friends and professional connections world wide my dear and are well known in your field. He is a well trained physician in that same field, but not so well known or respected as you, or as well liked by those who attend the events from year to year.
It is also possible that it is known in that small “community” of physicians that his moral compass is not so hot. I think in general most guys at least know when someone brings a “bimbo” to a conference and who does not. It does not engender respect for him by those who are not like that themselves. You, on the other hand, are well respected both professionally and socially. So keep your chin up lady! and remember who is the QUEEN! ((hugs))
I recently “escaped” a sociopath (not that I think I ever really will escape from him in my traumatized, paranoid brain). I love the sentence she wrote in this article that reads: “And even if it was all an illusion, who here wouldn’t go back just for a day when we were first being love-bombed by our spath?”. This question triggered me to actually join this site and create the name “sociohead” because I have said to numerous friends “I understand how a crackhead must feel”…they keep doing crack wanting to achieve that awesome high that they get the first time they smoke crack and can just never get there again…most of them ruin their lives chasing that high, just like some of us have ruined our own lives wanting just one of those first sex and laughter-filled days when we first got consumed by our socios. We want to feel like the most beautiful girl in the world again who is constantly wanted by the sexiest guy in the universe. If that ain’t crack-ish, I don’t know what is! haha….it’s all just freaking crazy and I am taking this lingering insanity I still feel one day at a time. I am still scared as we have stalking/tresspassing court dates coming up and Drew Peterson was just found guilty of murdering his 3rd wife yesterday. Ain’t life just freakin grand? I don’t know about any of you but I am just tired of this s***. Sorry…venting…I’m tired period. Thanks for reading…take care.
Dear Sociohead,
How about if I just call you “Head” instead? I think you are smart to oget away from him and to recognize that those first days of love bombing can be an “addiction” and lure us back….but just like the crack head we must NOT go back, not even in our fantasy. We must not let our brains go back and remember those “glorious days” of the great sex and laughter.
We must focus on the last days of shame and pain, hurt and devastation if we must think about him atj all.
WE can think of only one subject at a time (all those that “multitask” aside.) So if you find yourself thinking about him, tell yourself STOP! I will lthink about something else, and then do so.
Read a book, watch TV, listen to music with great lyrics and sing along, say our ABCs or count your multiplication tables, thinkk about ANYTHING except him.
I quit smoking a few years ago and it was easy for me to start thinking about wanting a cigarette, so I would think about something else. If I had trouble doing that then I thought about all the COUGHING I had done before I quit….now I seldom cough, and haven’t had even a cold since I quit, and used to have bronchitis all the tiime.
Work on good thoughts instead of thinking about IT.
Glad to have you here Head, this is a great place for learning, and we start out learning about themm, but end up learning about ourselves for our healing. God bless.
Hi Sociohead. Glad you’re here with us.
Yes, it is an addiction. Have you read anything about “betrayal bonds” or “trauma bonds”? Try googling either term. It’s a good place to start.
Sociohead, welcome to LoveFraud and I’m sorry that you’ve had the experiences that you have.
Add “Stockholm Syndrome” to your new list of vocabulary – Google-search that, as well.
You’ve found the “right place” for education, support, and encouragement.
Brightest blessings