Would he recognize his own violence: Domestic abuse and the frighteningly real dangers of speaking up

What, exactly, would happen if my former abuser were to stumble upon my anonymous blog about him?

It’s unlikely, given the digital algorithm he’s curated (videos of police chases, supplies for grandiose projects he’ll never complete, and degrading porn).

Not that he’s much of a reader anyway, but my queer liberal feminist blog isn’t exactly tailored to his interests.

Still, there will always be the fear.

Mental gymnastics and cheap vodka: Recipe for fooling yourself

I wonder how he remembers the battlefield that became our house.

I wonder if he’d read my words and see himself in my descriptions of holes in the wall, banisters ripped off of hinges, and guns shot out windows.

With each drunken outburst, he further fulfills his worst nightmare: turning into his violent, conniving, crooked cop father.

Is he as good at deluding himself as he was at manipulating me? He truly seemed to believe I deserved the violence, financial exploitation, sexual assaults, infidelity, and everything else he threw at me.

Would he try to do what he did best and try to shift the blame onto me?

Or would he scan over all his sins laid bare and have them not even fucking register?

Don’t cry over spilled dirty laundry

It’s not a matter of if he’d retaliate, but how.

He’d undoubtedly be furious that I’m humiliating him with the unsightly truth. Making a mess of his carefully curated mask.

The smear campaign would surely be vicious.

I’ve heard the way he disparaged his other “crazy” exes; vilifying them for issues I’m now confident he either caused himself or fabricated entirely.

I hate how I used to believe his lies, just as I’ve fallen for the lies of so many women-hating men.

I harbor enough shame over it to provide my badass therapist with a lifetime of steady work.

Maybe that’s my inspiration?

It’s a common tactic, of course, pitting women against each other. It keeps us in line and prevents us from comparing notes.

Better to have us competing, worrying over our own perceived flaws and scrutinizing one another. This keeps our attachment nice and insecure so we’re easier to manipulate. It also contributes to our silencing; invalidating us before we ever open our mouths.

It’s embarrassingly transparent now, but I couldn’t see it when I was so close. Helping future victims see through that one-sided storytelling to the thinly veiled red flags underneath has become a significant motivator of my work.

Crazy in love: Narcissistic injury and revenge

I’ve undoubtedly been relegated to the Crazy Ex collection as it is. But if he were to find out about my writing, would simply trashing me to his family and friends enough for him to soothe his wounded ego?

Or should I be worried about him going further?

His explosive behaviors threatened my life on multiple occasions while I was living under his thumb. I’m well aware he’s willing to resort to violence. Could his anger still reach me now, thousands of miles away?

My resolve shakes at the thought of him going after those I love in my absence. Harming me in other creative ways.

Would he spitefully share revenge porn, posting intimate photos and videos taken while we were together to humiliate and discredit me? Images that, among other things, he often took without consent. Humiliating trophies of a body he thought he owned.

Situational unawareness and hypocritical career choices

In his career as a police officer, as in all areas of his self-centered life, my abuser fancies himself a hero. His ego about how much of a tough guy cop he is truly cannot be overstated.

What would happen if he were confronted with the fact that he was accountable for the most heinous (dun-dun) and dangerous of the crimes he’s supposed to be fighting?

He’s proven time and again that he’d rather die than give up drinking, an activity that regularly escalated his violent, manipulative, dangerous behaviors.

Drunk driving? Apparently fine when he does it. Shooting guns out of moving cars for funsies? Quit overreacting, you wet blanket.

Not to mention that he’s shown himself more than willing to go to brutal, criminal extremes to maintain his narcissistic abuse and control.

Is there a chance at reformation in him? As optimistic as I endeavor to be, I highly doubt it. That’d require integrity and empathy for others, character traits he inherently lacks.

What he doesn’t lack, however, is access to law enforcement systems he could potentially use to gather personal information about his previous partners’ whereabouts.

So, that’s alarming.

Mitigating risk: Talking shit to my ex’s debt collector

I try to give him as little reason to look for me as possible. Although I make it as difficult as possible for him, I know he still tries to check up on me as he did with previous partners.

When I went no contact almost three years ago, I blocked his entire enabling family, along with any of his other flying monkeys I could.

I barely had a social life or online presence anyway, having been forced to cut ties with nearly all connections to appease his jealousy while we were together.

Despite my best efforts at stamping out his access to me, he still manages to surprise me. On many occasions, I’ve had a jolt of panic when his profile picture or name has cropped up somewhere to ruin my day.

A few months ago, I got a message from his sibling (who I swore I’d blocked), asking about a random recipe I’m fairly certain I’ve never cooked for them.

Most recently, an aggressive debt collector hounded me for weeks asking for him. It was wildly triggering until I finally answered and begged them to stop.

You’ll see what I can do to him

I write under a pseudonym out of an abundance of caution for safety. This unfortunately comes with a limited ability to promote my work among those I know, as I never know how information could get back to my abuser.

As unlikely as I believe it is that he’d find my blog on his own, there’s a legitimate, ongoing threat to my safety and that of my loved ones. This prevents me from sharing my story with many people close to me who I think would benefit from reading it.

This is what survivors have to live with. This is why reporting is so hopelessly out of reach for so many. It’s why we look at the ones who do report with at once reverence and sadness as we see them subjected to undeserved harassment and hatred.

Making it write

There is a group of people I do daydream about someday seeing my abuser in these words: his other victims.

Those other Crazy Exes, the ones who came before and after me, even the ones he was seeing behind my back (I honestly owe them a thank you).

The thought of my writing reaching others who’ve been in my situation reinvigorates me when the shadows start to overwhelm, helps me remember why this risk is worth it.

How much additional terror has he doled out for them? How much have they been able to process since? Did he use our relationship to tailor his mask to better stay in place while strangling future women?

If we did compare notes, how familiar would our stories be?