I had another blog – it was quite popular.
By quite popular, I mean that the small (less than 500) group of people who read it, loved it. My hopes of it “going viral” never happened, and it was mostly people I knew that read it, but it made me happy.
And it made my exN incredibly unhappy.
Which, in turn, made me even happier.
I wrote about everything: me, my vibrator, my children (good and bad), my running, painting my fingernails, my nervous breakdown, my exN and his bible thumping wife.
No holds barred.
And the people who loved it did so because of my honesty – even about things that made me look and feel ugly.
I also NEVER told secrets with which I had been entrusted, nor wrote negative things about innocent people.
So, he found out about it and came unhinged. This was his first email about it:
“I feel like we need to talk somehow about our life in the past and the fact that you continue to put stuff about me, NW and the kids on your blog. I do not read it but I have heard of some of the things that you put up on there.”
Doesn’t read it, yet he wants to talk about it to tell me that what I say is bad.
Then…
“First, at least from my perspective, bloggers focus their writing on a subject, like politics or fishing or skiing or world travel, whatever. It sounds like you just write about yourself and your experiences – that is not blogging, it is a journal.”
He really is an expert on everything – now it’s writing and blogging.
I admit, with these two emails, I was fired up, I was determined to not give in. I was stubbornly going to be the next Erica Jong or Suzanne Finnamore.
Maybe I was not being the nicest person in the world and being insensitive to others, but I had gotten under his skin and my blog was popular – it made me heady.
And, in my defense, writing was cathartic for me – I felt as if I couldn’t breathe if I didn’t write. And making it public, which began conversations with readers, fed my soul; those words of wisdom and support from others boosted me up during times when not much else did.
Plus, I wrote just as much or more, about things other than him. I have had plenty of other topics upon which I focused – like my vibrator and fingernails and my parents aging, and starting a new life and being a football mom and the beauty of my very best friendships and most important, the overwhelming love that I feel for my children.
He only showed up when he did something particularly horrible.
Which, since he is a Narc, was quite often so I actually carefully chose a select few.
At one point he said (yelled) to me, “Quit writing about me on your blog.” To which I responded, “Quit giving me so much to write about.”
I struggled to take him seriously when he quoted me and in the same sentence reiterated that he doesn’t read it.
Then I started getting mildly harassed by an anonymous commenter, who, according to their email address, was in the same town as my exN. And the comments were on posts that were all about me – usually making fun of myself.
I received vicious attacks such as “Poser” and “You already talked about your legs.”
Ouch (sad with great sarcasm).
I knew they came from either the NW or one of her friends. I joked right back, “I am a total poser,” or “Yeah, since I have two legs, I figure I can talk about them twice.”
Failing to get the desired reaction, my attacker finally gave up.
The other topic which he found to be seriously problematic was sex. I was having an incredibly healthy relationship with a lovely man (we now live together) which included sex (surprise, right?)
I was overwhelmed with the joy of enjoying sex after so many years of feeling like I was being raped.
(Words which NEVER appeared in the blog.)
He was horrified. Since he had discovered God (because of his girlfriend-now-wife,) he was suddenly pious, ultra conservative, and working towards born-again virginity through abstinence.
Did I get lectured on my lack of morals? Holy Moly. Up one side and down the other.
Then, SHE had the audacity to write me 1000 words on the sacredness of sex and the need to stop my wanton ways because I was devaluing myself and demonstrating to the kids that a physical relationship with someone outside of marriage was not only okay, but also cheap and meaningless.
Both exN and NW told me that they had told the kids to wait until they were married and that the kids agreed.
One of the boys was already sexually active.
Then they attacked the character of my boyfriend to me and to the children. ExN even called BF (to the boys) a “redneck drunk who treats women like trash.”
(BF is high-class, east coast, blue blood who doesn’t drink and has more respect for me and women than I have ever encountered in my life.)
Children saw right through that one.
Move ahead a couple of years of abuse and I find out that he is:
a) reading the blog
b) complaining to the kids about the blog
c) twisting my words and then reporting them to the kids
d) obsessing enough that, according to child #2, the link is the very first in his bookmarks bar.
e) freaking out because I had 489 readers
Son #2 said, “Dad, in the grand scheme of things – that’s like, a handful.”
I went through and changed everything with any names, places or other identifying details.
Not good enough.
I made some of the better posts, private.
Like the one where I talked about the fact that he dyed his chest hair to meet the parents of his child bride.
Still not good enough.
He amped up the pressure, he amped up the abuse.
At some point I wrote him this:
“My blog is about my life and your cruelty has been a major, constant part of my life since I began the blog. I never wrote anything that wasn’t true. Plus everything negative that I have written has been in direct reaction or response to something that you have done to me. I am also not doing anything illegal.
(for example; did you tell me, immediately after sex, on our anniversary, that you no longer loved me? Yes. So why should I have to keep something so abominable to myself to protect you when it destroyed me?)
Which leads me to your comment that at least what you and NW have said and done has been “private”. We are learning, as a culture, that silence is a killer, that people who are being abused need to speak out about it – that being told to keep it a secret is part of the cycle. Not to suffer in silence. What you and NW have done and said has been abusive and incredibly cruel and harmful.
*If you don’t want other people to know about it then maybe you should be thinking about what it is that you are doing and why you don’t want others to know.*
Just because a man hits (or rapes or calls her a whore) a woman in the privacy of their own home doesn’t mean that he didn’t hit her. And she is feeding into it and allowing it to continue if she keeps silent.”
I now know that this was a waste of my breath and that it only fed his fire, but…
Another couple of years later, we enter into court ordered mediation.
First he met privately with the mediator (hag who believed every bit of crap that his mouth emitted), then, when it was my turn, she said, “He refuses to engage in mediation unless you agree to take down every post on your blog that he doesn’t like.”
I said I was willing to talk about it, my attorney said nothing, and exN came into the room and we began the blog-battle.
He wanted the right to tell me what I can and cannot write about. He wanted the power to censor me.
Protecting him from his own reality
You have got to be kidding.
So, rather than giving him that power, I said, “The blog is gone.”
It was devastating but better than needing his permission to express myself.
I immediately started another one (besides this one) which I haven’t told anyone that could possibly be connected to him about – I am being very careful in case we end up in court again (which we are).
I have 8 readers. Woot Woot!
The points to this long post are these:
He’s a full-blown Narc.
He hated the fact that anyone out there would see that he is less than god-like.
He wants to abuse me and not have anyone know about it.
He wants me to be the silent victim.
He hated the power that it gave me, especially around NW.
She doesn’t have panties big girl enough to laugh me off.
He hated knowing that I actually enjoyed sex.
And, he hated and couldn’t cope with my success.
narcissusexwife 