It is still too early in the day *cough* noon *cough* for me to remember if I have mentioned the ex who held my belongings hostage – so if I have, please forgive me.

I dated for a while this year a man I thought was completely different then previous men. In reality, he just came in different packaging. Whereas all of my other abusers easily dwarfed me in size, and sometimes in weight (depending on where I was in my eating disorder – heavy or light – not that it matters, I’m still sexy ;)), this man I could not wear heels around, and I easily outweighed him by a lot. Didn’t matter to him though, so it didn’t matter to me, which is really how it should be. He was also more quiet spoken, and, I thought, thoughtful.

Turns out he was just waiting to unleash a torrent of verbal abuse onto me when things weren’t going the way he wanted in life. When things were running perfectly, things were okay, he was okay.

Unfortunately, I was one of those imperfections. See, I come from a history of abuse, and I have PTSD – that makes me an “imperfection” and impossible to accept.

Anyways, it ended when I was barred from his place, and I stood up for myself, a revelation, screaming back at him while I called him on his bullshit and hypocrasy.

He ended up holding my belongings hostage. I won’t go into detail about what a heartache that was. Not that I cared about the material things, it was the principle I cared about.

After contacting the police to see if they could help, and finding out they would, happily, but I would have to go to his place first, and then call for a dispatch, I finally let it go. I also stopped returning his texts.

I’ve been slowly replacing my belongings, so imagine my surprise when my phone dinged about an hour ago, and it was him. He apologized, and said he left my belonging on my front door step.

I know this is a ploy to reel me back in again. Maybe I would have been tempted if he had done this before I was raped. Now, however, I cringe at the thought of being physically too close to any man who is not “safe”. And the list of “safe” men is incredibly short. Even my own baby brother (well, younger then me, 20 is not a baby) does not make the list, and I live with him.

These men do not know how to let go. If that incident had not happened, I would have had my number changed by now. Unfortunately, the police and different crisis centers and my therapists need to reach me on my current number – it would just be a hassle I do not care to deal with at this time. Though I do plan on looking into blocking his number through my provider.

It kills me inside that he knows where I live. The fact he returned my belongings means I am still on his mind. And that worries me, and will make me extra cautious.

Stay safe sisters


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