Every time I read the questions “how victims of domestic violence have not noticed that they are a sadist?” and “was looking for someone to marry?”, I want to tell my story. It’s that miserable, which killed and tortured is not a fool with a victim complex or girl, unsure of himself.
- How to start a domestic violence
- He hit me because he has problems at work
- Where does “my fault”, or about not plugging his ears
- “Suffocating love”: Director of refuge for women about where I came from violence
- “If beguiled wicked” – continues the court in the case of Dmitri Grachev. The one who chopped off his wife’s hands
I grew up in a family where I was loved. Dad loved mom and me, he did all the housework, before my eyes were only examples of respect and love. Grandparents to old age walked, hand in hand. In the family I never had offended. It is believed that the girl is always looking for a loved one, like my father, but somehow I met the complete opposite of his dad. With all the love dad was a private man, he gave warm words, and deeds.
When I was at University, I was ministered to a young man from a neighboring University. He had completed school, worked at prestigious positions, was very wealthy and courteous gentleman. Nikita beautifully looked after, could meet after school with a bouquet of a hundred roses. I had to change not at home vases and pots with flowers. He wrote beautiful texts. Not platitudes “I love you, my love, worried blood” and really eloquent recognition. Nikita immediately started to talk about family and children. I think that’s supposed to guard me, but then the opposite: I decided that he has serious intentions. Over time we began to live together in his apartment.
Somehow, I was not embarrassed that he asked me to take over the rent, because, he said, I often wash and burn more light.
My income then was much lower than his, but he was well-read, seemed to me modern and talked about equality. “I earn, and you are home,” he said. You can tell he me contained, but if he is dressed in expensive shops, I bought clothes in the market and only when he thought it necessary. Once I tore warm boots, the yard was winter. I told him that the repairman didn’t bother to fix them, Nikita just shrugged his shoulders “put your socks on, winter is just two months.”
It seemed to me annoying and strange some of his words and actions, but he supported their magnificent speeches with quotations from books, statements of politicians, the examples of other famous families, Nikita was just an excellent orator.
Our living together seemed a sort of “test”. When I objected that I would not like to live with a man before marriage, he indignantly replied that he was not going to take “pig in a poke.” Of course, all this was said in other more subtle and clever expressions, in the best tradition of sales managers (in sales he worked) Nikita taught me, “you know….”, “reasonable people do so, and then later divorces…”. But testing was delayed for nearly five years, and over time it became clear that I did not pass.
The claim did not appear immediately. At first he was thrilled with the macaroni and cheese (I was not a very good hostess), then when I have mastered all simple dishes, he went on to say “a good beginning, but I would like to eat more diverse”. When we went to a cafe or restaurant, Nikita praised one or another exotic dish with the words “that’s why is not the same?”. With the cafe staff or by sellers in the store are always rude. My comments that people should say “thank you please” answered that it is their job and his head “thank you” every month says. Those who were older than him, he was not just respected, but feared panic. When I called someone from colleagues, even his voice had risen two tones.
Over time, Nikita stopped like not only how I cook, wash and iron, but the way I look. He began to be constantly reminded that I need to lose weight or grow hair or get a manicure. He set an example to their friends, showed me magazines with materials “in 5 days I lost 300 lbs!” and asked why I can’t do that. “With me will never be the losers,” to the moment when I heard those words, I was not quite the person that first walked into his house.
He often reminded that all he has achieved, a lot of “plowed,” and his athletic figure and high position – the result of his work, and he just wants for me the same, and I have not pulled such a life and was not aware that the work it was made by the parents, with whom he me, by the way, never introduced, because “you know, I can’t imagine them with a girl with bitten nails. And look at what you’re wearing and what kind of coat is my sister. Look, I wish you the best! Grow! Develop!”.
He did not forbid me to communicate with friends directly, just made it so that to see them I was too busy. When I said I wanted to sit in a cafe with classmates, Nikita claimed that I would be better to buy a new skirt, because this is already a shame to leave that house, or a mountain of dirty dishes. Hoping to pass the test for the title of “happy wife and mom”, I stayed to clean the house.
Gradually, I lay down all the costs associated with the house and life. I was prepared and bought food, cleaning supplies, new furniture. Scholarships and jobs are not enough, and I took a little extra work sat till night, and then until morning, scrubbing the floors or bake the meat, cut salads. I have to cook Nikita thing in the morning, perfectly ironed shirt and suit, because he was not just teaching me, but also annoyed. I was so tired that did not even have time to think about how my relationship is terrible.
I obeyed him because they admired him. Most of his respected colleagues, he had many friends, he was checking out girls. Classmate said I was lucky – such a beautiful, tall, charismatic, well-read man, and even provided (they also told stories that just made himself).
The first irritation was expressed in words. He could Wake me up at 4 in the morning with the question “do you notice anything?”, we spent two hours walked around the house to find out, to notice I had a speck of dust on the carpet.
Then he moved to action and would in my eyes, tear my shirt, which seemed to him tasteless. The next step was the crushing of objects next to my head. He could throw at the wall the phone if I’m not well prepared something to pour on my lap is not enough hot soup or head – tea, into which I put too much sugar.
The last straw was the fact that he slapped me. I guess I was lucky that my dad always said – “don’t let the man to raise himself in hand.” Yes, by the time I was completely broken psychologically, they considered themselves worthless and ceased to be myself, I didn’t have friends, I am cut off from parents who didn’t like my boyfriend. But I had this rod only – my father’s words that can not be beat.
That day I left at home all my things and never came back. And Nikita stalked me. He called with words of remorse, claimed I actually was not a bad hostess and not so fat, just that he wanted me to become even better. Claimed will never beat me, and then immediately changed his testimony will be, if you’ll bring as an argument. After he was threatened with physical violence, I asked my classmate to talk to him. Lucky for me, our mutual friend was one of those whom he respected and feared. Even stronger, even more secure, but, fortunately, devoid of the brutality and domineering nature. I don’t know what he told him, sure only that will not cause harm to Nikita, this is what I asked for. After that, the calls and messages stopped. Since we had not seen for many years, I hope to not see you, although even now shudder in the bus, if you seem to see a familiar figure. I wasn’t afraid of him, because I know that he was able to translate his threats into reality.
After we broke up with Nikita, I met another young man who was his complete opposite, and I have eye slept veil. He never asked me to cook and was easy to ensure that the eggs burnt. “Well, what? Went to have Breakfast in a cafe”, – cheerfully said he was going to get me Breakfast. If I didn’t want to cook or clean up – he did. When I am afraid out of habit, tried to “serve” and grabbed his shirt to stroke, he wondered, “Well, you! I” and picks her up. I didn’t need a therapist to swim out of this fog and realize that my former lover was a dud, but for his beautiful phrases stood narcissistic personality. Between him and my new young man was such a sharp contrast that I know whatever happens my destiny in the future, I will not be in a toxic relationship. But I can confidently say this now, from the height of his experience. The first time a victim of such a novel could be any woman.
I was pretty and flirtatious, a “star” course at the University, grew up in a loving family, I had a lot of friends and they all are just happy that I such a handsome guy. The guy is very nice and caring, he agreed to the marriage, I would have known about his dark side only when we began to live together or had a child. Sadists often waiting for the victim to be helpless or financially dependent on him. In my case the addiction was psychological. I loved Nikita, he was forgiven much, and his arguments were incredibly slender and logical. Even after our breakup, he convinced some of our mutual friends to take his side and not to communicate with the ungrateful he “learned everything and washed,” despite the fact that the University I am well learned herself, and all the household expenses and did lay on me.
Reading the story of Margarita Gracheva, I think only that could easily be in her place, if due to random luck, I was not able to escape from dangerous liaisons.
My accidental good fortune had a friend who was not afraid to talk to the torturer. Unfortunately, to protect victims of domestic violence in law could not then, cannot now. What I would write in the police? “The guy poured me a Cup of tea?”, but I didn’t even have burns. Or “he slapped me”? So even a beating to remove. Even now, I’m ready to talk about their stories only on condition of anonymity. Who knows, maybe Nikita remembers his resentment now. His memory was good…