Emotional abuse is insidious. It sneaks in under the guise of love, affection, adoration and promises, all while subtly eroding your sense of self-worth. Looking back, it’s hard to believe how deeply I was entangled, but in the thick of it, it was difficult to see the reality.
Brian came into my life strong. He showered me with affection and began calling me pet names after our very first date, he told me he was a Christian(I met him on a Christian dating app), and then later admitted he didn’t believe in Jesus. Within two weeks, he told me he was in love with me—strategically, I now see, because I was beginning to express doubts about our seemingly mismatched faiths. It was all an attempt to keep me hooked, to make me feel special and irreplaceable.
He laid it on thick, constantly reminding me that no one had ever made him feel the way I had. He told me I was his deepest and strongest connection, that I was his person, that he’d only ever been in love once before, but even that paled in comparison to what we shared. I fell for it. Who wouldn’t want to feel that cherished? But slowly, the veil came off.
Financially, Brian took advantage of me. He never contributed fairly to the relationship. I remember going to ShopRite with him, expecting him to pay for his own snacks that he put in the cart. But instead, he stood by while I paid for everything—over $100 worth of snacks—without giving a dime. He even had the audacity to take all the snacks home with him when he left. I found myself footing the bill for everything except our sporadic dates.
But it wasn’t just about the money. He tried to erode my self-worth. He criticized my home, a house I worked so hard for as a single mother, saying it wasn’t big enough—even though it was three times the size of the apartment he lived in inside of his mother’s house. He put down my new fully-loaded car, the first I’d ever owned, saying it’s not that great. I did all of this on my own for me and my daughter, with little help and he tried to take that pride away. He even told me no other “high-value” man would want me because I was too career-oriented. He made me promise I’d never aim for a high-powered job like CHRO because women like that are materialistic and he didn’t want that and neither would any other man.
He had a plan for us to move into a house together, one that I was supposed to buy while he continued to contribute nothing. But I woke up. He was using me for financial stability while trying to erode everything I had worked for.
A part of me knew something wasn’t right, and we argued every month because of it. I’d express how hurtful his actions were or what he wasn’t doing, but he gaslit me into believing I had PMDD, blaming my emotions and hormones for all of our problems. He even sent me Reddit posts about women struggling with the condition and how they felt terrible about causing issues in their relationships, even though their boyfriends stood by them—just like he claimed to be doing for me. It made me question my sanity. He constantly reminded me that no other man would tolerate my emotions the way he did. By the end of the relationship, I began to believe I was the problem and that something was seriously wrong with me, all due to his relentless emotional manipulation.
He was relentless. He tried to convince me he was the best I could do, claiming no one else would make the effort to bond with my autistic child the way he was. He bragged about how his exes always came back to him, how he continued sleeping with one even while she had a boyfriend, and how his ex-wife wanted him back after their divorce. He wanted me to see him as desirable to others, to make me feel lucky to have him. Looking back, it’s unbelievable that I tolerated any of this, but when you’re in the middle of emotional manipulation, it’s easy to become entangled in the messiness of it all.
What finally broke the spell was my daughter. Brian pretended to care about being a father figure, but he began suggesting that she be placed in residential care. He told me that living with her would cause him to resent her, as it was always about her and not about us. He was angry I would not let him discipline her. I never let him spend a moment alone with her. When he said he would grow to resent my daughter, the mama bear in me snapped. He could try to tear me down, but attacking my child was a line he couldn’t cross. That’s when I found the strength to let him go. I’m grateful he showed his true colors so soon, and I didn’t waste more time.
I don’t know what kind of person preys on a single mother, exploiting not only her emotions but also those of an innocent child with special needs. It takes a special kind of cruelty to manipulate and take advantage of such vulnerability. There are truly bad people in this world.
I don’t need to psychoanalyze Brian anymore. He is a man with deep-rooted insecurities that have nothing to do with me. He tried to destroy my essence, to make me question my worth, but he didn’t win. I’m stronger because of it. I learned valuable lessons from that relationship, and I will never allow myself to fall into something like that again.
As Lady Gaga says, "I still feel the blow, but at least now I know - it wasn’t love. It was a perfect illusion."
I hope Brian lives his life knowing I am the one ex who will never come back. I am the one who was strong enough to leave and never look back. That’s why I post about my strength. That’s why unblocking him feels empowering. I’ve spent months trying to find the woman I was before him, but I realize now I’m not her anymore. I am someone stronger, wiser, and most importantly, I’m healing.
There were red flags from the beginning, but sometimes loneliness makes us overlook them. I urge anyone reading this to be careful. Not everything that shines is gold, and wolves really do wear sheep’s clothing. You deserve to feel loved, respected, and valued—and that starts with recognizing your own worth, but most importantly, it starts with loving yourself.
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