Once upon a time, I met a girl. She lived across the hall from me in the dormitory, but she was the kind that has a circle of friends as exciting and outgoing as any drama queen or diva could want. I did my thing and she did hers and although we had two classes together, we hardly ever spoke.
For sanity's sake and maturity's sake and humility's sake, I won't say too much about her specifically. One day, we began to study together. That is – we got together to do the tedious homework together. Soon, we began hanging out more. We began going to class together. Very soon, we were "besties."
Christmas Break came and went and we hardly spoke. Well, she had a job and a whole, complicated social life waiting for her there. When we got back to school, we picked up again quickly! We did live just across the hall after all. Soon enough, people began asking her where I was if she went somewhere alone. I laughed when she told me, thinking in the back of my mind that no one ever asked me the flipped question – no matter.
I was still trying to find my identity. At home, after years and years of trying to find a place I belonged, I had locked myself away inside. All personality and personal identity were gone. I was what I could be to people, which almost sounds like what they say is important – the difference you make to people. Whether that measure is true or not, I tried it.
Once upon a time, I was emotionally manipulated. I thought I would find myself in devotion to her. Her stronger and constantly up and running personality sometimes drowned me out or tired my own personality. I prayed – steeled myself and went on. My weaknesses caused problems. My lack of wisdom, strength, love was what separated us. If I was only better, everything would work out.
She was not the only one who has taken advantage of me, nor was she the only one at that very time. I carefully work on knots in certain threads so they cannot tear me apart again. If my own personality and assumptions helped to fuel otherwise harmless people, so be it. They still had a choice.
Finally, someone began to see me as myself. I was no longer her shadow. Those others who had tried a similar task had been haughty – seeing it as some kind of duty to help me as one far wiser and higher above me – or had simply and plainly used me. Some of them were easier to shrug off than others, depending on how much effort I had expended to save the relationship from the terrible twister we were pulled into. A few girls made an effort to know and want me as an individual separate from her – and to them I am truly grateful.
Finally, someone began to see me as myself. He actively sought me and wished to know me. He saw me, and he saw her. Distinguishing between us was easy for him. He knew and trusted me. He didn't criticize me nor fuel me, and he didn't pretend to be wiser and know all and have the solution – he simply listened and agreed when I was right. I began to realize that what I felt, thought, wanted was important and even valid.
This is not a love story. There is a love story, and if I were to tell it, it would begin something like that. But this is not about the incredible man that found me when I wasn't trying to be found, although he had a profound effect on the ending of this story – with help from the example of other friendships I was developing during this time.
I began to realize that what I felt, thought, and wanted were important and even valid. If I thought something was senseless, I didn't necessarily have to do it just because I was her friend and she wanted to. If she wanted to do something, she could as well do it herself as needlessly drag me along. She did not like this new thought, I would imagine. Who would, after a long period of having a faithful companion? I had been with her through very thick and very thin, and I had put up with a lot of low moments, and even been willing to go out of my way to give her companionship when I would have been wiser to refuse her, or to lose faith in friends on her behalf. But friendship does not necessitate this level of dog-loyalty.
With that, I suppose, and the time I put my foot down and remained friends with an "enemy" (and my increasing interest in someone other than herself), she got a little anxious. If anyone were to ask me what happened between us that we should go from so close to hardly ever speaking seemingly between semesters, I would tell them that they would have to ask her. It wouldn't be caginess or an attempt to avoid drama, although drama is greatly to be avoided when possible. I simply cannot say for sure what finally brought it all to an end. We tried to discuss it a few times – she told me she didn't like how I was acting and how it made her feel. I apologized and tried to explain that I was not deliberately trying to hurt her – that I was only looking for a little independence. I don't think it made much difference – I don't think she really listened.
And then she told me that sometimes friends need distance and so she would give me space. Because it was always me, my fault.
Once upon a time, I was emotionally manipulated.
For sanity's sake and maturity's sake and humility's sake, I won't say too much about her specifically. One day, we began to study together. That is – we got together to do the tedious homework together. Soon, we began hanging out more. We began going to class together. Very soon, we were "besties."
Christmas Break came and went and we hardly spoke. Well, she had a job and a whole, complicated social life waiting for her there. When we got back to school, we picked up again quickly! We did live just across the hall after all. Soon enough, people began asking her where I was if she went somewhere alone. I laughed when she told me, thinking in the back of my mind that no one ever asked me the flipped question – no matter.
I was still trying to find my identity. At home, after years and years of trying to find a place I belonged, I had locked myself away inside. All personality and personal identity were gone. I was what I could be to people, which almost sounds like what they say is important – the difference you make to people. Whether that measure is true or not, I tried it.
Once upon a time, I was emotionally manipulated. I thought I would find myself in devotion to her. Her stronger and constantly up and running personality sometimes drowned me out or tired my own personality. I prayed – steeled myself and went on. My weaknesses caused problems. My lack of wisdom, strength, love was what separated us. If I was only better, everything would work out.
She was not the only one who has taken advantage of me, nor was she the only one at that very time. I carefully work on knots in certain threads so they cannot tear me apart again. If my own personality and assumptions helped to fuel otherwise harmless people, so be it. They still had a choice.
Finally, someone began to see me as myself. I was no longer her shadow. Those others who had tried a similar task had been haughty – seeing it as some kind of duty to help me as one far wiser and higher above me – or had simply and plainly used me. Some of them were easier to shrug off than others, depending on how much effort I had expended to save the relationship from the terrible twister we were pulled into. A few girls made an effort to know and want me as an individual separate from her – and to them I am truly grateful.
Finally, someone began to see me as myself. He actively sought me and wished to know me. He saw me, and he saw her. Distinguishing between us was easy for him. He knew and trusted me. He didn't criticize me nor fuel me, and he didn't pretend to be wiser and know all and have the solution – he simply listened and agreed when I was right. I began to realize that what I felt, thought, wanted was important and even valid.
This is not a love story. There is a love story, and if I were to tell it, it would begin something like that. But this is not about the incredible man that found me when I wasn't trying to be found, although he had a profound effect on the ending of this story – with help from the example of other friendships I was developing during this time.
I began to realize that what I felt, thought, and wanted were important and even valid. If I thought something was senseless, I didn't necessarily have to do it just because I was her friend and she wanted to. If she wanted to do something, she could as well do it herself as needlessly drag me along. She did not like this new thought, I would imagine. Who would, after a long period of having a faithful companion? I had been with her through very thick and very thin, and I had put up with a lot of low moments, and even been willing to go out of my way to give her companionship when I would have been wiser to refuse her, or to lose faith in friends on her behalf. But friendship does not necessitate this level of dog-loyalty.
With that, I suppose, and the time I put my foot down and remained friends with an "enemy" (and my increasing interest in someone other than herself), she got a little anxious. If anyone were to ask me what happened between us that we should go from so close to hardly ever speaking seemingly between semesters, I would tell them that they would have to ask her. It wouldn't be caginess or an attempt to avoid drama, although drama is greatly to be avoided when possible. I simply cannot say for sure what finally brought it all to an end. We tried to discuss it a few times – she told me she didn't like how I was acting and how it made her feel. I apologized and tried to explain that I was not deliberately trying to hurt her – that I was only looking for a little independence. I don't think it made much difference – I don't think she really listened.
And then she told me that sometimes friends need distance and so she would give me space. Because it was always me, my fault.
Once upon a time, I was emotionally manipulated.
It is not fun and it can be severely damaging to your mental health. Your reality becomes twisted. You can't disprove her ridiculous claims and you can't prove your righteousness. You begin to question your own reasoning – maybe he's right. After all, you can't prove he's not. Your world now revolves around him and his feelings.
Please read the following article. Without even realizing it, you may be stuck right now. Or you may be the manipulator. The key to not being a manipulator is openness to being wrong, to the possibility that you're hurting someone, and remembering that you do not own the rights to another person – thoughts nor feelings nor presence. If you seem to be in a relentless fight to maintain a healthy relationship and doubt your position in the relationship constantly (and especially if you feel isolated from other people or your other relationships are failing), something is wrong.
Do not mistake yourself. If you are friends with an emotional manipulator, do not convince yourself that they will change with love and support and a little prayer. Sadly, you cannot fix them. They cannot admit the problem, so there is no healing. You're better off giving them some space and refusing to let them treat you that way. And if anything, they are better off too.
But if you have been manipulated, remember that they aren't diabolical. They are lost. They are broken. Even though you can't fix them and you should not put up with their behavior, they deserve your compassion. One person who manipulated me was by all appearances being manipulated by her mother. Another person who used me was broken and looking for healing. Forgive and go on as best you can.
As I read the following article, I remembered instances of all eight of these symptoms. I think my only criticism of the piece is that it sounds bitter and hates the manipulator a little too wholeheartedly: http://theunboundedspirit.com/8-ways-to-protect-yourself-from-emotional-manipulation/
Do not mistake yourself. If you are friends with an emotional manipulator, do not convince yourself that they will change with love and support and a little prayer. Sadly, you cannot fix them. They cannot admit the problem, so there is no healing. You're better off giving them some space and refusing to let them treat you that way. And if anything, they are better off too.
But if you have been manipulated, remember that they aren't diabolical. They are lost. They are broken. Even though you can't fix them and you should not put up with their behavior, they deserve your compassion. One person who manipulated me was by all appearances being manipulated by her mother. Another person who used me was broken and looking for healing. Forgive and go on as best you can.
As I read the following article, I remembered instances of all eight of these symptoms. I think my only criticism of the piece is that it sounds bitter and hates the manipulator a little too wholeheartedly: http://theunboundedspirit.com/8-ways-to-protect-yourself-from-emotional-manipulation/