My Valentine’s Day Gift: A Cycle of Emotional Abuse

It would be our second Valentine’s Day together, but we were going to be apart.

I was away for work, helping with a conference at a ski resort. My boss was more than willing to let him come along. We had a free hotel room, he could join us for the banquet, he’d even get a free lift pass for the last day of the trip.Weeks before, we talked about him going. Money was a little tight — we had just celebrated his birthday in Denver — but we’d really only be paying for dinner and drinks, something he would have been doing at home anyway. I thought I had him convinced to come with me (who has to convince their significant other to join them on a weekend away for Valentine’s though?). But Friday was here and he decided to stay back. I was a little hurt, sure, but I understood. I would only be an hour away, so he promised to join me Saturday once I was done with work. Work was pretty hectic. I was already running around the resort by 6am, preparing for our conference guests who would be moseying down the stairs for breakfast at seven. I texted Christopher a quick “good morning” and wasn’t able to check my phone until I had a free second that afternoon. I was exhausted from being on my feet all morning, the burst of energy I had earlier was completely gone, and I was hoping for one message on my phone to bring a smile to my face. “Don’t text me this early. You know I don’t have to be up for work for another hour.”There were a few others messages, mostly ones calling me out for not texting him back all morning. This was my first work trip, and even though I had left my schedule on the fridge for him, I tried to tell myself that he didn’t realize how busy I would be — hell, even I didn’t realize how busy I would be.I apologized profusely for not texting him back and let him know that I couldn’t be on my phone in front of conference guests. He didn’t seem to care, and that made me feel worse. I had no idea how to make it up to him (jeez, typing this now, I feel so pitiful. This was a job you loved and you were apologizing for being at work? He really was a loser). I did my best to send him little “thinking of you” messages whenever I had a second to do so or whenever I could get away for a bathroom break. He sent back lazy responses like, “thanks, me too” or “great.” I knew something was wrong. After the welcome dinner, I had the night to myself. All of my coworkers stayed at the bar for shots, but I excused myself to my room. I called him. I needed to know what was wrong.

I apologized profusely for not texting him back and let him know that I couldn’t be on my phone in front of conference guests. He didn’t seem to care, and that made me feel worse. I had no idea how to make it up to him.

When he picked up, he said he was at the bar with friends, he couldn’t talk now. “Can I just know what’s wrong, please? You’ve been pretty quiet with me all day? I know I didn’t text you much this morning, but I was so busy. You have to understand that, okay? I am really sorry.”“Just text me, okay? I’m busy.”Things like this happened all the time with us, except I would usually be at home with a dinner warm and ready to be served wondering where the hell he was. 5:30 would turn into 6 which would turn into 7. I’d be devastated over the creation I had just slaved over turning into a luke-warm mess on the counter. He’d always respond with, “oh, I forgot to tell you that I’m not coming home tonight. Monday night bowling with the gang.” And the gang was code for a girl he used to hook up with, his best friend who I actually liked, and this idiot who would always convince him to get high and stay out until 4am. But this time was different. I wasn’t stuck at home. I hadn’t just wasted an hour of my life preparing a dinner he wouldn’t eat. I was at a ski resort. I wiped away the two tears that had managed to fall out of my eyes, touched up my mascara, and joined the group at the bar. I was too afraid to drink much though. I had a gut-wrenching feeling that Christopher would call me back, and no way was I going to admit that I was out drinking with friends. I remember one night after work, two female coworkers invited me out for drinks. I hadn’t hung out with anyone after work, and figured since Christopher did all the time, I could manage to get two drinks in and be home with dinner before he would even notice. I felt guilty lying to him, so as soon as we made it to the restaurant, I let him know that I was only staying for two quick drinks. I would be home right after that. He was cool with it at first. But as soon as the waiter set down my first cocktail, Christopher kept calling me. I didn’t want to seem rude in front of my new friends, so I silenced my phone and asked him to text me. He kept calling and calling. My face was flush. I knew my coworkers noticed. “Why don’t you answer that, hon?” the older one asked. I gave an awkward smile and picked it up. “So you think it’s cool to ignore me now, huh?” he asked. I tried playing it cool in front of my coworkers. “No, sorry, I’m just out with friends. What’s up?” “You can’t possibly think it’s okay for you to be out right now, can you?” When I didn’t answer, he asked again. “Our dog needs dinner. He’s starving. I have things to do tonight. You better be home before I am to make sure our dog’s okay or you’ll be sorry.”I swallowed the lump in my throat, apologized, and heard him hang up on me. I held back tears, and made an excuse to go to the bathroom. Looking back, I know my dog would be fine if dinner ended up being an hour late. But he said I was a “bad puppy mom” at some point in our conversation, and I couldn’t not believe him then. I had to finish my drink and bail. Plus, I needed to get home before him. His threat wasn’t an empty one; I knew there would be hell to pay if I didn’t beat him home. I downed my drink and apologized to my coworkers — something had come up, I lied to them. I made it home, fed my dog, and fell asleep waiting for Christopher. He walked in drunk around 2am.

I needed to get home before him. His threat wasn’t an empty one; I knew there would be hell to pay if I didn’t beat him home.

While I was at the resort, I couldn’t shake that feeling that Christopher would discover me out with friends having fun without him. I raised up the tequila shot my boss put in front of me, smiled when they all cheered and welcomed me to my first conference, and downed my first and last shot of the night before going back to my room. I remember my boss felt bad that I left early. She thought they had scared me off. I just told her I wasn’t a big drinker. Christopher never called me that night. He never responded to the messages I sent him. The rest of the conference went like that. I was nervous and anxious all the time, afraid Christopher would blow up on me, never knowing what to expect. But the offer was still on the table — my boss wanted him to come to the resort for dinner with the group and a free ski pass on Valentine’s Day. He didn’t want to come, and, honestly, at that point, I didn’t really want him there either. I called my two best friends. Neither of them wanted to take me up on my offer though. It was the night of the banquet. I had on my work-appropriate little black dress, my makeup was on point, and I was hitting it off with all my coworkers. I turned my head sideways in confusion as someone who looked just like Christopher walked up to me. I didn’t recognize him at first. When I left, he had long hair, but he must have cut it all off when I was gone. “See, I always come through,” he said with a smile. Of course, as soon as I didn’t want him here, he showed up. This was his way of apologizing, and since I had been talking him up all weekend, I knew my coworkers wanted to meet him. But he had made reservations at a ranch by the resort for us for dinner since tomorrow was Valentine’s Day. I felt bad leaving. I knew headcounts were important for the banquet, but Christopher was here looking so excited for our fancy dinner. My heart was gushing. I instantly forgave him for everything (well, I forgave him in my mind. I couldn’t tell him I had been upset. That would just start another fight). Dinner was nice. I tried talking about work, but he kept directing the conversation back to how he went about getting this free lift pass for tomorrow. He wanted to wake up early and spend all day riding, so by the time I got off work, he could do the easy stuff with me and not feel lame about missing the difficult runs. As minor as a detail as it is, when the check came, Christopher handed to the bill to me. “You got a check from work to cover travel expenses, right? Didn’t you say how they gave you more than you could spend? Looks like dinner’s on you.” I was getting upset again, but I hated showing it. It would turn into a fight, and I would apologize a thousand times for feeling hurt even though he would never apologize for upsetting me.I’m stopping the story here, because this story isn’t actually about Valentine’s Day. This story is about the cycle of abuse. It’s all about ups and downs. This is a social cycle theory developed in 1979 by Lenore E. Walker to explain patterns of behavior in an abusive relationship.There was always a lot of tension in my relationship. I was always nervous that I would ignite some anger in him and communication would come to standstill, which made me feel like I was to blame. Next, Christopher would make threats. Sometimes he did hit me, there was always a lot of blaming. Tons of intimidation. Then Christopher would “apologize.” It never came out as sorry (side note: I once mentioned to Christopher how I had only heard him say sorry to me twice. He got mad at me for that observation). Like when I was at the resort, his apology came in the form of a surprise visit and dinner. Everything else under number three would happen, mostly him claiming that I was crazy for ever getting upset. Next came the honeymoon phase. I didn’t want to talk about that, but Valentine’s Day was my honeymoon phase. The whole day was great, for the most part. No day was ever 100 percent good with him. But I don’t like remembering those honeymoon phase days, because they weren’t real. They were just one step of the cycle that he would use to manipulate and confuse me. It didn’t matter that we had fun snowboarding all day, that he was a kind and caring teacher, that as a beginner I took the tram all the way to the top of the mountain and made it down in one piece. We were both pretty proud of that. But it doesn’t matter, because by the time we were back home that night, he were already back to stage one.I feel a little worn out telling my story. I’m healed, well at least I’m healing. Life is good for the most part. I’m telling you about Valentine’s Day to educate you on this deadly cycle. This isn’t even the worst example I could give, but I figured it was the most relatable. Everyone has good and bad days, all couples have fights, but those who are in functioning relationships don’t go through this cycle. Those couples talk it out. They both say sorry. They both compromise. Abusive relationships go through this awful mess, and you spin through the cycle so much that you’re too dizzy to even know that it’s happening. I could have read this a year ago, and maybe I would have silently agreed. I might have started noticing patterns a little more clearly, but seeing this graphic wouldn’t have been enough for me to do anything about it. So it’s up to you, the best friends, the brothers and sisters, the coworkers — if you notice this happening to someone you love, speak up. Let them know kindly that you’ve seen this pattern and that you’ll be there to listen to them if they need anything. That’s all you have to do. After that, it’s up to them to make their own choice.