Strays
Late summer, just before the start of my senior year of high school, an orange tabby cat started showing up around the house. She was obviously someone's pet at some point. I immediately wanted to take her in. Keep her safe, loved, and protected. There were two major hang ups though. My dad and sister are both EXTREMELY allergic to cats, and we quickly found out this cat was pregnant.
I fully admit I didn't handle this gracefully. I was terrified. I had asked to talk to him about moving in together because it had been decided I would move to him in July and that we intended to get engaged. However I was getting anxious because no details had been discussed and it was already June. We had looked at apartments and I'd given my approval for either of two options but he had yet to apply for either. I was beginning to worry I was going to pack my things and have nowhere to go.
We called around but none of the local shelters had space for a pregnant cat. A week or so after that, mom and dad were out at a church leadership function. They got a call from me. "Mom, Dad, the cat is in labor, and it's raining, and it's getting cold, and I don't know what to do" I waited for one of them to break the silence. Finally my dad's voice came from the other side a heavy sigh and "....take the damn cat inside". We eventually got momma and all seven (yes SEVEN) of her kittens homes.
So what on earth does this have to do with domestic abuse? When I met the man who would become my husband, he presented himself as someone who was notorious for getting the raw end of a deal.
I'm all for honesty and transparency, but there's an unspoken rhythm, a dance, to unpacking baggage. Start with small undesirable habits, "Yeah, my bedroom floor is usually a mess" "I really hate dusting". Pause and watch for reactions, if it seems safe, eventually you move to more personal matters "I tend to get pretty anxious in new situations" "I get that. I can get pretty depressed around the season change" finally once it has been established that the relationship is truly secure you move onto issues that will probably affect the relationship at some point "I'm terrified of being abandoned" "I shut down when I'm hurt". When it's done over time, and as a back and forth, it provides a sense of security.
I recieved all of this at once. He began unloading so quickly it made my head spin. How he played mediator in his parents divorce. How a string of girlfriends had used him to their advantage. How a friend's brother didn't like him and therefore accused him of sexually assaulting a teenager, and so much more. I didn't even have a moment to process, much less respond.
Don't misunderstand me, I don't doubt that some variation of these events occurred. I don't doubt that they were hurtful. It seems naive now, but being as he was my only point of reference for his town, and his life, I didn't pause to question the motivation behind the information dump. My doubt now lies in why they were presented to me all before the first date, and without reciprocity.
He was seeking an "in". He had a habit of doing the emotional equivalent of button mashing in a video game. Blame me. Doesn't work? Blame a circumstance. Still nothing? Angry outburst. And when all else fails? Tears. In action it can look like this.
(I'm in rainbow)
He had stalled, and instead continued to insist that we could skip the stress of applying for apartments and I'd simply move into his room at his mom's house, and share his twin bed (despite neither of us being particularly petite). I had plainly told him I was uncomfortable with the idea. It would become another pattern for him to run out the clock in an attempt to force my hand. Indecision was a viable option for him. It was not for me.
He would push buttons until he found a reaction he could use. In this case it was comparing me moving from the only state I'd lived in, leaving my support system, and taking a demotion at work in order to transfer, to him moving out of his mom's house to an apartment 7 minutes away. Or comparing my apparent lack of supporting his potentially having to book tuxes for a wedding that included his ex roommates (his job), to wanting a functional support system and a place to live.
It didn't matter so much what the reaction was, be it anger, sadness, or fear. It was either stored until it could either be weaponized, or used to discredit me.
Almost without fail, when I became upset with his rude or unkind behavior he would turn sullen. Reminding me he couldn't be blamed, as he was simply a victim to his circumstances.
I would feel guilty that I had made his life more difficult. Forgive him, beg forgiveness for my frustrations, and inevitably find myself having the same conversation within the week. I began feeling like my life was nothing more than a demented merry-go-round. Doomed to leave me spinning in circles, and never stopping.
Consciously I saw someone who desperately needed love, security, and patience. Someone who had flaws and baggage, definitely. Someone who, with a jumpstart, and a nudge in the right direction, had an excess of untapped potential.
Subconsciously, he was a cat out in the rain when I had a house that was warm and dry. He needed love, and I had so much to give it felt selfish not to.
I don't doubt that either were in need. The cat was obviously hungry, pregnant, and not used to having to fend for itself. I don't doubt that my ex was much the same (minus the pregnancy). I don't think anyone would be able to fake that type of heartache. But it's unavoidable to be hurt at some point in life, and as you move through the pain, there comes a point that you have to choose what to do with it.
Indecision means sitting in it unresolved. Allowing it to consume not only you but those around you.
Some choose anger. I was wronged and they deserve to pay. I admit I was there for a while. But it gets exhausting and I had spent so much time angry already.
Sadness is fair. Again it was something that lasted a while, but I realized I was mourning something that never came to be. (More on that later)
With abuse a lot of people choose to harden themselves. Determined if they put on enough armor they won't be hurt again. I was frightened so I'll become frightening. I thought that was the solution for a while, but realized I wasn't being true to myself.
I was the little kid who spent too long staring starry eyed at the calf on the class field trip to the farm because I was in awe of this brand new life. I was the teenager who took in the stray cat because she deserved to know her babies were safe. I was the woman who got the splint off and immediately made giant trays of homemade sweets for the infusion center and the radiation center because I couldn't fix it. But I could make it a little better.
I refuse to let abuse steal that from me. It has changed me in some ways I believe will be permanent but I will not allow it the power to change me at my core. I'll always take in the stray, I just might test it for rabies first.
