Emotional Abuse

Today, after a five month fight, I was able to get my ex-boyfriend off my apartment lease. Until now, he would have been legally able to enter the apartment at any time. I wanted to post this as a reminder that emotional abuse is a thing, a BIG thing.

I can’t tell you how many times during that relationship that I thought to myself: “Well, he only threatened to hit/hurt/etc… so it’s okay.”

But, it’s not okay. What happens when those threats become real?

I used to dread leaving work. I would have rather stayed at WORK than go home.

“…emotional abuse can seriously damage emotional health, causing clinical anxiety, depression, a skewed view of self-worth and an extreme lack of self-esteem.”


Emotional abuse is real and it IS damaging. Something as simple as seeing a vehicle similar to his is enough to trigger a panic attack. In that moment, all I can think about is the time he threatened to drive us off a bridge.

I never understood until it happened. I got lucky. So lucky, it could have been so much worse. Maybe someone in a similar situation can read this… and be lucky too.

The words.

I am not normally one for sappy romance – but, this… this spoke to me on so many different levels.  d9c4d819fc5605c8ac36c9d901a697a6

One of the things I miss the most about Jason (the hardest thing to let go) were the messages that I would wake up to… every single morning.  Lines and lines of beautiful words, my weakness.

It stopped after he started drinking.

I’ll drive us into the river

I have to cross state lines to get home.  I mean, home home… not my apartment.  Every single time I drive over that bridge, those words replay in my head:

“I’ll drive us into the fucking river, Stella.”

It took me a long time to understand that our relationship was not normal or okay.  He threatened to hit me but never did so I figured it was fine.

I haven’t given this guy a fake name yet.  I guess I’ll call him D (for dumb-ass).

This was a vanilla relationship.  I thought it would be safe.

Stella & Tequila

I called my sister on my way home from work this afternoon.  Sometimes she is the only person in which I want to confide.  We did not speak for long but we discussed a lot, mostly regarding taking chances and feeling regret.  Specifically, should I bite the bullet and risk losing myself again or should I forget it and take the chance of regret?

I did a lot of thinking over the weekend, a lot of super drunk Stella thinking.  Tequila is the ultimate truth serum.  I mean, I always tell the truth but a bit of alcohol brings out all the things I am afraid to say.

I haven’t felt like this since… him.

Something Amazing

Something amazing happened today – I got over it.  Him.  Jason.  The “Dom” (and I use that term lightly) that screwed me up so badly.

How do I know?

First, some background.  I occasionally suffer from night terrors.  Different from nightmares, google if you don’t know.  These terrors usually consist of me still being in bed, dark shadows drifting around my bed, and feelings of absolute dread and terror.  Similar to sleep paralysis, but you are not awake.  However, it is impossible to tell you are not asleep.

Okay, Stella, these night terrors do not sound so amazing.  To the point!

Oftentimes during these terrors (because I think I am awake) I attempt to seek some sort of comfort.  I grab my phone, by my bed in dreams as it is in my real life, and, typically, I would attempt to call or text Jason.  This time, it wasn’t him….

I still woke up terrified out of my mind – but, it wasn’t him I wanted.  That’s how I know.

Stella Meets a Misogynist

I think I may have mentioned in previous posts that I consider myself to be a feminist.  Submission is my choice, it is neither something I feel obligated to do nor am I submissive towards all men.  This post contains some serious sexism, proceed at your own risk.

A week ago, maybe longer, I received a message on CollarSpace (yes, I have one of those under my actual identity.  Pure entertainment) from a Dom seeking a 1950’s style relationship complete with the domestic discipline element.  No problem, that idea has always intrigued me but I was upfront that I was not interested in any type of relationship with him.  I also stated that I was willing to chat as long as there was no pressure to meet.  Also, he’s about four inches shorter than me and, at the risk of sounding vain, I just… can’t.

From what I can gather, this is the type of woman he is looking for:  A woman who has no thoughts or ideas of her own.  A woman who wants to marry a man she barely knows.  A woman who is okay with him sleeping with other women but will still remain faithful to him.  A woman who wants to stay pregnant all the time.  (He has a breast milk fetish).

His idea of domestic discipline is locking his sub in a cage under his bed for 24 hours any time she does something he doesn’t like.  He expects her to carry a ping-pong paddle in her purse, so he can spank her with it anywhere he feels like regardless of who is around.  This isn’t domestic discipline, this is abuse.  I am certain he doesn’t understand the difference.

I was upfront with him that none of this matched my own desires and even expressed a little concern.  He still wanted to chat and I agreed.  I know this makes me sound like a shitty person, but I wasn’t talking to him for the quality of conversation.  I was talking to him because I needed to be entertained.

He wasted no time in telling me that I’d have to give up my job, my blogs (he doesn’t know the URLs to any of them), and even my cats (NOPE) and focus solely on being a wife and mother.  According to him, those are the only two purposes that women serve on this planet.

‘Yes, random stranger, I’ll give up everything for which I worked my ass off just for you’ said no woman, submissive or not, ever.

And then, he informed me: “If we had daughters, I’d expect you to teach them how to be submissive to their future husbands.”

OMG. I LOST IT. There is not a chance in hell that I would ever, EVER teach any child of mine that their only purpose was to serve someone else.

It is people like him that make me push so hard against my submissive side.  I know this isn’t a good representation of a Dom.  This guy is a control freak, but it is still very concerning.

This morning he sent me various photos of chastity belts, telling me that ‘his woman’ would wear one of these every time she went anywhere without him.  I made the mistake of asking why.  Apparently, since all women suffer from uncontrollable lust and possess tiny, thoughtless brains, we will sleep with anyone and anything that crosses our path ever.  Thus, chastity belt.  LOL.  Oh, and he also believes that rape is the fault of the victim and not the rapist.  I can hardly believe such a gem is single.  *I’ve never written anything with such sarcasm in my life.