I can still see his face, telling me he thought I was strong enough, that our “foundation” was strong enough for me to handle what was happening. I felt like I was having an out of body experience. I said something along the lines of, “why would you think that?”. He took his control for granted, he truly believed I wasn’t ever going to stand up for myself. That I was going to take this abuse for the rest of my life. What did that look like in his mind? Would he still have been talking down to me when we were in our retirement years? Would he be 80 and still giving me the silent treatment for days on end? Or did he just think I would be properly trained by then? I guess I just kept thinking it was going to change, he was going to change. He did change, he definitely became more vulnerable and more loving, more playful. Those times were beautiful, those times made the bad times so much worse. I kept thinking he couldn’t possibly turn on me again, not after being so kind and loving. Of course he turned on me, and it was worse. Not only because I was thinking we were finally free of the misery, but because he was too.
I thought he was finally going to love me as I am.
He thought I was finally going to behave and act like he wanted me to. He thought I was going to stop having thoughts, emotions and moods of my own. He thought being “his wife” meant I was finally going to stop trying to be my own person. I disappointed him, boy did I disappoint him. This was his story and I was to do as directed. One thing was for sure, I was going to be punished for not playing my part.