Control is Not Love
By Janeal Mulaney
Hi my name is Candace and this is my story it’s not
a pretty one by any means, but if this story helps one person it’s worth
writing.
I went for my jog through the park earlier then
usual on that faithful spring morning. A stranger sat on a bench by the bike
path. He was reading the paper with a Starbuck’s cup in the other hand as I
continued on. I had never seen him before, but I usually jogged later in the
morning, so I wasn’t surprised to see new face. I finished my jog and went
about my day as usual. The next day I started my day off in the usual way.
Except for one thing, I went for my jog earlier once again for some reason, I
could not name. I just wanted to know if the man would be there on the bench
again.
He was and this time I stopped at the bench to tie
my shoe, which gave us a chance to say hello. We introduced ourselves, his name
was Cal and we hit it off, we like the same movies, listened to the same music,
and enjoyed the same kind of food. We exchanged numbers and that evening, he
called to ask me out Friday night. For a few months we enjoyed each other’s
company. Maybe that is why I never saw the control issue start. His control
over me happened so gradually at first, it was just the tiniest things.
One night we were going out to dinner, he was there
to pick me up. I was dressed in my midnight blue dress with my gold loop
earrings finishing off, my assemble. I opened the door to his waiting arms.
After a wonderful long hug and kiss he followed me on into the house we still
had a few minutes before our dinner reservation.
“Sweetheart you look so beautiful, tonight.” He said
with a smile, “there’s only one thing that looks off. How fond are you of those
earrings, because I think these would go with that dress so much better.” He
had reached in his pocket and pulled out a small jewelry box, inside there was
a pair of crystal blue diamond studded earrings.
He was right, and oh, how sweet it was for him to
buy me a gift. I thought as I
immediately took out my gold loops to replace them with his gift. That was the
beginning. In the weeks that followed he bought more jewelry, a shirt that
would look oh so magnificent with a certain pair of pants that he had picked up
the week before. Next came the way I wore
my hair, my make up, and even my nail polish was critiqued to his satisfaction.
My friends were next, one was too jealous of our relationship; another was too
lazy she didn’t have enough ambition. One by one, my friends were gradually
pushed out of my life. My family was next.
I was eye candy, just another piece of art on
exhibit for others to admire, but I could not speak nor were they to touch. At
parties I had to be at his side at all times, other then going to the ladies
room. I had to be back within a certain amount of time. If I took too long we
would leave the party, and I would be questioned. What was I doing? Who I was
with? Just six months after I received his first gift the accusations started.
If I was late coming home from work, I was with
someone, if I didn’t answer the phone when he called I was talking to another
man, the list went on and on. I could no longer wear my old clothes, after all
he wanted me to be seen in the clothes he bought me, that was why he bought
them, he explained to me. I could throw my old clothes away, he said one night
with a smirk on his face. After all that was what they really were anyway.
(trash)! Then he would turn around and accuse me of wearing his clothes for
some other guy, I was parading myself around for other men.
He kept me hurt and confused. I was worried about
everything I said and did. If I smiled at some man that entered a restaurant he
took me to, I wanted to sleep with him. My world revolved around him and only
him, yet I felt he didn’t want to be around me. I didn’t smile anymore, I
didn’t joke around with anyone, I was a totally different person, then who I
use to be.
Now it was time for the physical abuse as well, but
in a way I’m glad it started. The first time he hit me across the face I woke
up. I realized what was truly happening to me and what he was truly all about.
I don’t know how I’d lost my self-esteem, I was old
enough I should have seen the signs. I’d been in bad relationships before, not
this bad but I had seen the signs so I could end the relationship before it had
really began. Why was this one so different? I still ask myself those same
questions.
This is the only answer I came up with; I thought he
was exactly what I had wanted in a man. I fell deep and fast in love. My heart
blinded me.
I had to get hit literally, before I woke up.
Thank God most men don’t have the finesse and the patience
to go so slow. I now look at every guy I date, through wiser eyes. I look at
every movement they make, every gift given, what time the gift is given to me.
If they don’t want me to take my car and they ride along once in a while. I pay
attention to their body language. I listen closely to what the man says and how
he says it. I’ve ran into to a lot more men like Cal, but the minute they want
to tell me how fast I can drive, I leave them in the dust. I no longer take out
my earrings to replace them with their gift; I thank them nicely for the gift.
Then I tell them I’ll ware them at a later date. I put the gift to the side and
wear what I chose to wear that night. I watch their reaction to my independent
ways.
