With stunning clarity, I now see the man I loved blindly and hopelessly for over a year is not who he said he was. He’s what my friends cautioned me about- a love bomber and a manipulator. There are things I understand now which before I couldn’t —things I couldn’t recognize because they were foreign to me, yet oddly familiar patterns of abuse.
Maybe it’s sleep deprivation, or my struggle with executive function, attention deficit, or trauma. But I think I may be the least calculating person I know. I don’t anticipate, strategize, or predict outcomes. I’m stunned when people point out something done or not done deliberately—I don’t see it. I can’t fathom operating that way because I lack the capacity. Even in games, I don’t strategize. I win or lose by surprise. I’ve been programmed not to trust myself—to discount my own knowing, feelings, and needs—and to look to others for the truth. I end up believing what people say, even when it doesn’t align with my lived experience. And even after they have shown me time and again, they are not to be trusted.
So, for today, I see it.
This man—his scheming, calculating energy—is more real than the man who made me feel spoiled, chosen, treasured until he stopped. That was a scam, a trick, a spell. I am now aware of three other women in the past year—aside from his ex-wife and daughters—have fallen under and been broken by his spell, now legally charging him with abuse. He shows a pattern of preying on the vulnerable, disguised as a savior, fearless leader, a man who fears nothing.
His charisma is intoxicating. His confidence unshakable. No wonder he’s a wizard in donor development and lucrative partnerships- effortlessly raising millions. But his nonprofit– Smoke and mirrors. Five beds for survivors they can’t keep full. Yet they hustle, raising millions to construct a larger facility, more beds– greater salaries, bonuses, and perks.
He’s a rainmaker—dazzling always and only at the start.
Because I was conditioned to believe I’m unlovable and unworthy, I remain vulnerable to dynamics like this—until that wound is healed. For so long, I thought I was the cause of abuse. That I was imagining it. That maybe, if I tried hard enough, I could change it.
But the truth is, the best I can do is leave—though I never go easily. I stay until the pain makes it undeniable—when staying is no longer sane or safe–because staying makes me want to die. There will be no peaceful resolution, no shared understanding, because that would disrupt the power balance.
Now, in therapy and recovery, I’m learning to heal the parts of myself that invite and enable this debilitating, destabilizing dynamic. No contact is a tragic last resort. The work to heal is exhausitng and neverending, a process, not an event…no arrival or final destination. I’m tired of accumulating new things to heal from—injuries that will persist until I address the old wounds. I’ve broken, or at least disrupted, the cycle for my children, but I haven’t fully done it for myself. R al ph Owen Five Stones Church Carmel Baptist Church Waxhaw NC – narcissist liar cheater scammer
