After That Assault, Things Got Messy – Part 3 (He Got Mad)

Thursday, October 27th, 2016

Picking up from yesterday –

So, okay, just getting back into the chronological story of it all –

He sexually assaulted me. I tried to downplay it, and “move forward.”
He sexually assaulted me again.
He ignored me when I tried to tell him how upset I was (whether it be in that very morning in the immediate aftermath, or anytime after).
When I was sort of holding my breath, hoping things were maybe, or at least could be, normal – he forgot my first day of my promotion (which felt a little insensitive).

And again, I tried to push forward and be as perfect and non-complain-y as I could be, asking him how to make him happy.

And then he got wildly angry with me – for something that he did have a right to be angry about… But maybe not quite this angry? (I don’t know. Again, maybe it’s unfair to judge his emotions…)

So sorry to get into yet more details. But I think it’s important to the story that after he assaulted me, he gave me a month of basically the silent treatment… And I think that if I don’t explain how that happened, it’s too confusing.

So, basically, the short version is, before the (second) sexual assault, he had done something that really (super) hurt my feelings – nothing as serious as assault, but still bothered me. He set up expectations (he did… for something important to me) that he didn’t meet, and kind of half lied to me about it too. And it was really hurtful. And I tried to tell him multiple times (because just a simple apology would’ve been nice). And he just kept brushing me off.

Sooooooo, I may have, maybe, posted that story of my hurt feelings on a social media channel. (I did.) (If you’re wondering where it was posted, the story’s not on this blog… So if you go lookin’ through here, you’re not gonna find it… not ’cause you’re not wonderful and smart and I’m sure a great sleuth and all, but because it doesn’t exist here.)

Since I knew some of our mutual friends *might* see what I posted (even though I didn’t think anyone who knew both of us was really paying that much of attention to me), I made sure it was so anonymous. I triple checked that there were no details that pointed to him (and I made sure any specific details could apply to at least a few other people I knew, even if people were reeeally paying attention).

And just FYI, it wasn’t even the most personal story of all time. It had nothing to do with sex or assault or even “dating” or any of that. It wasn’t anything other than the story of a friend who hurt my feelings.

When I posted it, I tried to be fair. I even partially gave his point of view in the post – saying that maybe I was overreacting, and giving the reason why perhaps I’m not totally in the right.

And I thought it might help me to get the story out, and to maybe get points of views from other people – to see if maybe I was indeed overreacting.

And I knew that he might read it, as he often read things I posted on social media. (He even had alerts set up for certain outlets of mine.) And, even knowing that he very well might (and probably would) read it, I hoped that maybe, just maybe, if he could read it in calm story form (since he loves narrative stories), maybe his brain would process it differently and he’d see how much he hurt me (since none of my words talking straight to him helped at all).

Now, let me admit, that’s kind of childish of me. It’s not respectful to take my private, personal problems to social media (whether it’s one of the more private-ish platforms or not). After all, there’s a reason people say, “@ me next time!”

I know it can be rude to talk about that stuff on social media (she says literally as she is typing a blog post aaaaaall about a personal traumatic time). But still.

So, perhaps my pants are catching fire, or my nose is growing, or whatever happens when you say, “I shouldn’t have done that,” but then you do it again anyway…
Though, in this instance, I think a lot does depend on context and the person and other stuff…

So, I could see why I wouldn’t think at the time that it would be such a humongous transgression. And I could see why in certain circumstances (such as this one right here right now – where we’re talking about assault and abusive relationships… Because this stuff is important, and potentially needs to be talked about. And I want other women to know they have a safe space…) it potentially might not be such a huge transgression (or at least may be understandable/justified to some extent).


I don’t want to judge people’s emotions (as different events affect people differently… It’s totally valid for him to be mad.) And I don’t want to get in this game of “well, you did this. So my thing isn’t as bad!” However, like, objectively, a somewhat small transgression where you (accidentally) hurt someone’s feelings, I just feel like isn’t as bad as sexual assault (et al). I mean, call me crazy, but I dunno….

So, he got wildly angry with me. So angry. I got quite possibly the meanest email I’ve ever received (and that includes messages from internet trolls). I was yelled at (well, yelled at in writing) for being so incredibly selfish and malicious (and on an on with the mean adjectives). I was told I didn’t respect his privacy, and he couldn’t believe I’d violate his privacy for personal gain.

(What I was possibly getting out of it is beyond me… Usually if you post on Facebook or other social platforms about problems, that doesn’t excite people, or make you look good, or give you personal gain of any kind… I am not saying I did something good. I’m just saying, I don’t see what nefarious plans or malicious intent I had…)

Anyway, on and on. Sooooooo, so mean – not about how I made him feel in this instance. Not that I did a specific bad thing that upset him. No. I was a “selfish person.” The statements became big and sweeping about who I am – literally less than a week after getting a huge monologue about what a wonderful perfect incredible person I was… So, it was jarring to say the least. And quite confusing.

And then he said he needed space.

And this is where I’ll pick up tomorrow.

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