Category Archives: hostility

Selfish Giving

I was meeting up with my then-estranged husband at a local book store to transfer our son, Kyle, into his care so the two of them could spend the day together.  Meandering through the aisles while awaiting his arrival, the man suddenly approached me with a basket of chocolate-covered strawberries in one hand and a big smile on his face. 

Rather than feeling touched in any way, I felt kind of sick, but not knowing how to respond in the moment, I simply accepted the berries with gratitude.  The man then tried to enter into small talk with me and ended by asking me if I would like to go out for lunch or coffee sometime.  “No,” came the easy response, in spite of the gift I held in my hands and the fact that our son was observing the entire exchange.  After a couple more awkward minutes, the man and our eldest son finally headed out the door.

That evening, my then-husband called again and tried to talk me into spending time with him.  Not a chance.  After calmly shutting him down from every angle, I closed with, “But thank you for the strawberries.” 

“Whatever,” came his sarcastic reply, and immediately I thought to myself, “There it is.”  I knew those blasted berries came with strings attached – some kind of obligation that I refused to accommodate.  His plan had failed.

Since those days, I have heard and read similar stories and have known that this type of scenario represents a typical abuser strategy, but I didn’t know it had a name:  Selfish giving.*

Selfish giving has the appearance of selflessness, generosity or genuine care, but when you’re in an abusive relationship, it is almost exclusively another form of self-serving manipulation.  Selfish giving imposes an awkward pressure on the abuser’s victim to convey appreciation and – he hopes – an obligation to forgive any and all previous offenses and re-establish some degree of intimacy based on the perception of good will.

Selfish giving is simply another form of crazy-making designed to force you to let your guard down.  Any failure to respond according to the abuser’s anticipated expectations gives him ammunition to paint you as selfish, unfeeling and ungrateful.

Unfortunately, gifts are the abuser’s cheap, easy substitute for legitimate repentance and change.  But note…

  • A truly changed man is willing to identify and apologize for specific things he has done to hurt you;
  • A truly changed man recognizes that he alone is responsible for the changes he needs to make in his life;
  • A truly changed man will respect your boundaries and your need for time and distance to heal; and
  • A truly changed man is willing to acknowledge that his abusive history may have harmed the relationship beyond repair.

On the other hand, the unrepentant abuser believes a heart-warming gift will give the impression of genuine devotion and inspire renewed trust.  The abuser’s motives do not reflect genuine goodness but rather pure, unadulterated selfishness.

So know that you don’t have to participate in his game.

I know it may feel strange to refuse his gifts, offers of help or other seemingly selfless gestures, but when you do, you are refusing to give him access to your life or your heart and depriving him of the power he seeks.  You are setting an important boundary and letting him know that you will not risk jeopardizing your safety, peace and contentment for anyone – or anything.

“Thorns and snares are in the way of the crooked; whoever guards his soul will keep far from them.” Proverbs 22:5

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For more on this subject, you might want to check out “Lessons In Crazy-Making.

*The dynamic was referenced by a commenter on another blog.

Abusers may be of either gender; however, the overwhelming majority of abusers are male.  For the sake of simplicity, the abuser is referenced here in the masculine.  The reader’s understanding is appreciated.

Cindy Burrell/Hurtbylove.com

Copyright 2019, All Rights Reserved

The Messages Your Abuser is Sending

“There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.” – Laurell K. Hamilton

One afternoon many years ago, before I had children, I was gardening in the front yard of our little house when I saw a woman emerge from her home a few doors down.  Clearly in a rage, she walked briskly to the street where her car was parked as a boy of about 8 years old ran close behind.  The boy was clearly crying and called out to her as she got into her car and slammed the car door.

“Where are you going, Mom?” he said, clearly distraught.

She didn’t respond or even turn to acknowledge him but put the key into the ignition and turned it.

“Where are you going?  Please don’t go!” he fairly yelled, even as he called out to her.  “Where are you going, Mom?  When are you coming back?”

She ignored him and drove away, her young son standing barefoot alone in the street weeping as the car pulled away.  He then ran into the house, crushed by his mother’s response to him.  It was a heart-wrenching incident to witness.

 Whatever happened after that, I’m not sure that anything or anyone could ever completely erase that child’s terrible memory of his mother’s decision to drive away without any acknowledgement of his terror.  That morning, she sent him a message that had the potential to color that child’s life.  In that singular moment, without using any words, the woman told her son that he didn’t matter.

The truth is that every day, through our words and actions, we send messages to those around us.  And if I may be so bold, I think that the messages we send to those with whom we come into contact may be narrowed down to two.  Either “You matter” or “You don’t matter.”

Of course we may have contact with many people during a given day, and some interactions are simply in passing or of a benign nature – neither overtly favorable nor unfavorable, yet even in casual interactions, our words and body language hold the power to convey what we all need to know – we matter.  But even in the presence of our local bank teller, the server at our favorite restaurant or the cashier at the grocery store, just acknowledging those around us, looking them in the eye, and offering them a smile and a ‘thank you’ tells real people with real lives and real wounds and needs that they matter.  I don’t know of a greater gift we can give to people that literally costs us nothing.

Even more so, within our intimate circle of friends, co-workers and particularly our family members, the messages we send and receive can have a powerful impact.  Having recovered (mostly) from my 20 years of living with an abuser, I realize now that my former husband’s almost exclusive message to me was:  “You don’t matter” or perhaps even more hurtful:  “I matter, and you don’t.”

The only thing that really mattered was him – what he wanted, when and how he wanted it.  Anything else was an issue, a problem, an inconvenience.  Anything less than perfection (from me) was cause for criticism, condemnation and/or correction.  Even when everything seemed outwardly acceptable, he could find an excuse to be discontent.  He made sure I knew that, at the end of the day, I really didn’t matter, for nothing I did or said would ever be sufficient.  The smallest measure of love and acceptance I sought was consciously – and cruelly – withheld.   There were times when he was happy – when he got whatever it was he wanted, but even in those brief moments of peace, I know now it didn’t matter to him one way or another whether I was happy or not.

“You don’t matter.”

All abuse victims know the feeling.  Yet in the midst of our unhealthy relationships, we believe we can convince our abuser that we matter.  It is what we live for.  We become almost exclusively preoccupied with finding a way to prove ourselves, to earn value and acceptance in his* eyes.  Most of what we do is heavy-laden with the hope that perhaps tomorrow, through his words and his actions, the doubt will be erased.  He will finally convey once and for all time the message we desperately long to receive from him:  “You matter.  You are special.  You are wonderful.  You are worthy of the deepest love and respect and care.”  

But in my case, as in the case of so many others, tomorrow didn’t come.

So the question is, “What are the messages he is sending you?”

When he is unpredictable, manipulative, sarcastic, hostile, angry, selfish and cruel, then he is sending you a message.  “I am dissatisfied with you.  You are failing to make me happy, so you are not allowed to be happy.”

When he controls the finances and decides that he needs a new truck when you and your children are in dire need of basic necessities, he is saying, “What I want is more important than what you need.”

When he refuses to lift a finger to help with any of the household responsibilities or complains when things aren’t done to his standard, he is saying, “You need to do more, while I am free to do whatever I want – or nothing at all.”

When he trumps the plans you have made to suit his own, or he simply doesn’t want you to have time to yourself, he is telling you he alone decides whether or when you may go anywhere or do anything.  Your plans and needs for relationship and social interaction mean nothing, while his plans are not even subject to debate.

When he decides to move your family away from your friends and other sources of emotional support, and he doesn’t even invite your perspective before making the decision, he is telling you that he doesn’t care how you (or your kids) are affected by his decisions.

When, even knowing how physically exhausted you are, he wakens you in the middle of the night or early in the morning and insists that you be sexually responsive to him, he is reminding you that his sexual needs matter more than your need for rest.

When he criticizes you, curses at you, calls you names, yells at you for the slightest thing or tells you that you are lucky he puts up with you, his design is to convince you that you are inadequate, that there is something wrong with you, that you don’t matter.

But you do matter, although your abuser wants to make sure you don’t figure that out.  If he is conveying these messages to you, then know he is deliberately trying to keep you down, convince you that you are unworthy of love, and make you feel obligated to try ever harder.  Know that he is neither innocent nor ignorant, but rather he knows exactly what he is doing.  He is simply a liar, a tyrant, a control freak, a manipulator and a bully.

He is an abuser.

And if your abuser is anything like mine, he will occasionally toss out, “You know that I love you…”  Those few words are specifically designed to disarm you, to dare you to believe the words rather than the overwhelming measure of evidence to the contrary.

If the messages he is sending you fail to convey not only that you matter but how much you matter in real and practical terms, then you must claim that truth for yourself.

Looking back on my own history, I can see the emotional trauma my former husband inflicted on my heart through his words, attitudes, behaviors and even simple body language – a glare, a shake of the head, a slamming of the door.  For so many years, I felt much like that barefoot little boy standing in the street, wondering if the person who mattered most in my life would one day assure me of my love-worthiness, show me that I mattered.

So do yourself a favor and take a step back.  Watch and listen and analyze what his words and actions are saying.

  • Is his love conditional and always subject to doubt?
  • Does he try to make you feel inadequate?
  • Does he imply that you are a burden?
  • Does he infer that he is merely tolerating you?
  • Do his wants and needs matters above all?

If his messages to you are that you don’t matter, then (in my humble opinion) you may presume that you are living with an abuser.

Someone who loves you will make you a priority, invest in your life, ask for your perspective, do whatever he can to ensure that your needs and desires are met, accept you as you are, and prize you and make you feel special.  Someone who loves you will demonstrate in a thousand different ways you are absolutely worthy of love – that you matter.

Because you do.  ###

*Although abusers may be of either gender, abusers are predominantly male; therefore the abuser is referenced here in the masculine.  The reader’s understanding is appreciated.

Coyright 2018, All Rights Reserved

Where’s My Gumball?

Consider the gumball machine; it’s a relational analogy that works.

Practically speaking, it should be understood that in any relationship there is a give-and-take dynamic.  It should not be a matter of I’m-gonna-get-what-I’ve-got-coming-to-me sort of attitude, but rather a natural, mutual desire to meet the needs of the one we say we care most about.  Both people make investments of goodwill for the sake of the other, and both enjoy the benefits of one another’s gracious contributions.

But what happens when one person consistently, intentionally fails to demonstrate love and care toward the person they claim to love?

In an abusive relationship, the enabler-victim in the relationship is almost always in a perpetual struggle to reach the heart of her* abuser.  Although he is cold, emotionally cruel and frighteningly unpredictable, she remains committed, believing that her persistent love will reap its intended outcome – a healthy, mutually respectful, intimate partnership.  So day after day, by her practical and emotional investment, she puts a nickel into the proverbial gumball machine hoping to receive a small, reasonable return on her investment, if not today, then perhaps tomorrow – or the next day.

She reminds herself to be patient, learns to go without, and tries to dismiss his cruel words and habitual selfishness and neglect.  When he is hurtful, she tries to talk to him about her needs and longings, but rather than hearing her, embracing her and endeavoring to remind her of her worth, he instead insists that she is overly sensitive and needy.

Nevertheless, she continues to look for ways to remind him of her love, does those little extra things that she thinks will make him happy and help him to see how hard she is trying, believing that he will one day reciprocate.  Over time, she begins to wonder if or when she will receive the kindly attention and genuine affection she craves.  As hard and frustrating as it is, day after day she puts her nickels into the gumball machine and expectantly waits to hear the sweet morsel as it tumbles down the chute and falls into the cradled palm of her hand – concrete evidence of his love for her.  But as hungry as she is for the reward, it doesn’t come.

As the months or years pass, she might receive an occasional pat on the back or a sterile kind of “You know I love you” from her abuser’s lips, but those words cannot compensate for the countless coins of care she has invested with so little return.  Of course, we don’t love our spouse demanding a reward, but realistically, in a marriage, it is perfectly reasonable to expect one – healthy measures of genuine, spontaneous tenderness, affirmation and encouragement.  In a practical sense, our spouse’s presence should be the safest place to be.  But in an abusive relationship, the abuser expects his victim to keep investing in him while he offers little but endless criticism and a hostile, demanding presence.

So after so many months or years, why would anyone be surprised when the abuse victim leaves?  There is no mutual love there.  She has been emotionally bankrupted.  She has no nickels left to give.

But what happens when she finally leaves?  Typically, her abuser will suddenly chase after her.  He will offer a one-size-fits-all apology, tell her, “It will never happen again,” and expect her to unquestioningly return to him.  And what kind of fallout might she expect should she refuse to buy in?  What if she doubts his sincerity, having no reason to trust his words?  What if her instincts are telling her that nothing has really changed?  What if she feels certain that she must keep her distance?

In most instances, the abuser will soon become angry, and his weary victim will hear, “I said I’m sorry.  You need to get over it and forgive me and come back to me.”

With demanding anticipation, he will exclaim, “How dare you keep me waiting?  How dare you turn me away?  How dare you be so selfish and unfeeling?”

At this point, the truth is that he has invested nothing, so his victim owes him nothing.

Yet the abuser will almost always have the audacity to whine, moan, groan and complain, saying essentially, “Hey, I put in my nickel.  Where’s my gumball?”

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*Although abusers can be of either gender, the overwhelming majority of abusers are male; therefore, the abuser is referenced in the masculine.  The reader’s understanding is appreciated.

Copyright 2017, All Rights Reserved

Lessons in Crazy-Making

Lessons in Crazy-Making

It was not just a bad night among many, it was an insane night.  Our four kids were all asleep in their beds when my husband and I got into an argument about something rather menial, but he quickly escalated into a rage.  Having no success in calming him, concerned for the kids and seeing the extreme manner of his response, I simply said, “I think you need to leave.” 

At that point, he exploded.

“Oh, you want me to leave, do you!?  Well, if that’s what you want, then that’s what you’ll get!”  He immediately went out into the garage and grabbed a couple of suitcases, returned and marched upstairs, tromping as he went while he continued his tirade.  I followed him up the stairs and tried to calm him down and asked him to be quiet so as not to wake the kids, but this was his moment to make a scene.  He went into the bedroom, tossed the suitcases on the bed and began grabbing his clothes from the closet and loading them up.  He grabbed his conga drums and other instruments, dragged them downstairs and began loading them and other favorite possessions into his van.

 “I’m asking you to leave until you can calm down,” I tried to explain. 

 “You said you want me to leave, so that’s what I’m going to do!”  

It wasn’t long before the kids were awakened.  When they came out of their rooms rubbing their eyes and asking about all the commotion, their father loudly told them that I was making him leave.  They all gathered together on the eldest daughter’s bed, held one another and cried, while I worked to convince the man that he was being irrational (which didn’t go over too well) while simultaneously trying to assure the kids that everything would be okay. 

 After about 45 minutes of loading up his van, he came in and told me he was tired and was going to go to bed and would finish up in the morning.

 “Fine,” I conceded.  He went to bed, I was able to get our somewhat traumatized kids back to their beds, and I slept in the sofa-bed downstairs, where I had been sleeping for months. 

The next morning, I woke early and called my supervisor at work to let him know I would not be in, as my husband was moving out, and I needed to make some arrangements for the kids.  I got the kids off to school, returned home and was drinking a cup of coffee at the kitchen table when my husband slowly trudged downstairs.  Seeing me in the kitchen, he said calmly, “What are you doing home?”

“I stayed home to take care of the kids,” I reminded him, “since you’re leaving.”

He gave me an incredulous look and shook his head as though I had lost my mind.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.  I’m not going anywhere,” he said, and retreated back upstairs to take a shower.

I would like to say that I was surprised by the absurdity of it all at that moment, but I wasn’t.  My former husband had obtained pro status when it came to responding severely and irrationally.  By the final year of our marriage, the word I mentally used to describe our relationship was “insane.”  It was. Continue reading Lessons in Crazy-Making

The Sympathy Bond

It is a strange thing to comprehend:  most of us as abuse victims actually feel sorry for the person abusing us.  Why is that?  How can it be that, after all he* has put us through, we choose to see this person who treats us contemptuously as a fragile, hapless creature worthy of our patience and understanding?

In my own experience and having had the opportunity to work directly with many victims, there are several things that may keep us feeling sorry for the guy – and subsequently bound to him. Continue reading The Sympathy Bond