Self-Denial Feedback Loop
Root 3 - How I ignored every red flag and lied to myself for years.
These thoughts are continued from The inspiration for Body Swappers.
The Body Swappers idea, and thoughts about my friend’s abuse, consumed me for two years before I realized that I myself was in an abusive relationship. It wasn’t the trifecta. The most glaringly obvious form of abuse—physical—was missing.
It’s very hard, when in the middle of emotional abuse, to realize that’s what it is. Someone who doesn’t have healthy boundaries and self-esteem can fall right into it, ignoring all the warning signs.
And there were warning signs. When I was fifteen and he asked to touch me, I dithered. I wasn’t ready. He talked me into it. I felt dirty. And then, being raised deep in the conservative, slut-shaming camp, I had to decide. Was I a slut for letting him touch me that way? Or did I really, truly love him? Was I really, truly devoted to him?
The mind will go to extreme lengths to defend itself from shame.
Convincing myself that I was really, truly in love led to more touch, pregnancy, marriage. Multiple times in the first years of marriage I came out of our fights with the nagging feeling that something was off. I eventually saw a marriage counselor. She told me that my husband wasn’t being fair to me. I didn’t go back to her; she didn’t understand our relationship. Surely there was some way I could change to make things work. I think even then I knew that he wouldn’t.
Our two-year anniversary was commemorated by a huge, blow-out fight. I had the thought, I don’t want to be treated this way anymore. But I immediately shrank in fear from the implications of that thought. I’d become completely isolated from all my friends and family. I had nowhere to go. And we had a toddler together, with another baby on the way. It would be unfair of me, I thought, to take them away from him. Besides, how could I take care of them on my own? The difficulties were endless.
I did the easiest thing available to me. I stepped up my self-delusion. I thought if I were really loyal, I could make things work. That this was the kind of thing that broke people up, but I wouldn’t let that happen to us. That I wanted to be a good wife, and withstand anything.
If someone with healthy boundaries could have been a fly on the wall, they would have known how wrong I was. They could have told me that we had no trust or respect for one another. They could have explained that it takes two people working at a relationship for it to be good, despite how much I wished it were otherwise. Of course, even if someone had said those things, I wouldn’t have believed them. I was deeply committed to my self-denial.
The mind will go to extreme lengths to defend itself from shame. I carried a lot of shame for all the lies I told myself. That I was happy. That things could get better. That I was with the man I wanted to be with. How could I tell myself those things if they weren’t true? What a self-betrayal that would be. And so the self-denial fed itself and grew stronger. If I ever admitted to myself that I was lying to myself, shame would compound on shame. I spent years piling on the self-denial to avoid such a thing.
Eleven years into my marriage, thirteen years into my relationship, I finally managed to tell myself I was unhappy. Finding my way to the truth was a painful, difficult journey. A story for another time. For now what I’ll say is the cure for self-denial seems to be this: a huge helping of willingness to admit you’ve been wrong, and a mountain of self-forgiveness.
Have you ever realized after-the-fact that self-denial or self-delusion had caused a serious issue in your life? If you feel comfortable, I’d love to hear some of your story. As always, thanks for reading part of mine.