December 2002
I would love to tell you our story:
My story begins with my new husband and family. I have now taken steps to recapture control of my life and have chosen a beautiful man to share it with. We have our troubles but he is my friend and equal in every way. We have two heavenly boys, Thomas Ioan and Nicholas Dumitru. Even our eldest son, Tommy, helped the healing process. His little voice came through to me while in the womb saying to the voices in my head “Hey, stop criticizing my Mommy!” I know that sounds weird but it’s true! I still, to this day, have to look in the mirror occasionally to know that I'm not hideous, but lovely. I go to a weekly therapy group to convince myself that it wasn't my fault…that I actually was a victim of emotional abuse. Even though the facts stare me in the face! I have to hear the other women tell me their story, a story that sounds exactly like my story, to chip off the large block of doubt on my shoulders. Betsy, the leader of the group called what I had the "Stockholm syndrome," a case where the victims end up loving and defending their captors, no matter how cruelly they were treated. Whatever it was, it really made me lose all sense of reality for a painfully long time. Only by the grace of god (in other words, love), did I recover enough to fight for myself.
I would love to tell you how I met my new family and at the same time put to paper the story of the man who almost succeeded in obliterating me from my own body.
Laurent is a bright spirit… full of optimism. When I met him I was a robotic shell of who I once was. I saw his eyes and was immediately affected. A seed of awareness started to grow but verrrrrry slowly and unconsciously. It all started six years ago when I met my ex-husband Florin at a symphony rehearsal. I was in the beginning of my senior year at Johns Hopkins University's Peabody conservatory. I heard Florin as I walked by the room where he was rehearsing on his instrument. He was just warming up and I heard two notes... but the vibrato he played with was like a violist. The whole reason I played the viola was to make that sound. Then he quickly played a scale. It was like a string of pearls... perfect in each note. I watched him through the whole rehearsal and remember feeling reverence as my stand partner told me of the world prizes Florin had garnered for his musical ability. He could manipulate the emotions of his audience very well, and in turn mesmerized me under his spell; like a spider who weaves a web around his prey without the prey knowing about it until it's dead. I even had a dream to predict/warn me. But that was the only message from my intuition/soul because I had lost contact with my inner being and my own powers of consciousness through lack of self-confidence. Why, you ask? Because I was extremely over-protected and controlled as a child.
My music world was all-encompassing and my gentle, trusting nature, combined with my sheltered childhood, made me vulnerable to him and crushed the tiny ego I had succeeded, on my own, to form. As a teenager, my parents had been so proud of my talent that their praise was more powerful to me than my own praise... my own needs... my own desires. I lived to please their ideal of who they thought their daughter was. They were my religion.
I had developed a strong inner-fantasy world. A world where I could lose myself for hours in the forest or meditating through painting - but not through real-life interaction with people. I was seen as an outcast but I didn't notice. I didn't fit in with other kids my age because I was essentially a 40 year old teenager. My parents spoke through my words. My parents spoke through my clothes... clothes they dressed me in so I would be accepted by the world and loved. Clothes they thought would protect me. I was dressed like a doll each morning. I won contests and fame for my music, art and beauty. My world was fine until I left my home and started to interact with real people, with lovers. I was ready for the wolves and they attacked. How naïve I was. Whether in Italy or on Cape Cod, grasping but fleeting lovers wanted something for nothing. I kept giving without a clue as to what I was giving. My parents' lack of openness about sex made me feel dirty about what I was doing/experimenting with. I had no voice of my own. Only my parents voice echoed through me. And that was a joke... especially in the bed of a lover. You can't fool yourself so much as to think that you can speak with your parents voice while in bed with a lover.
Then, four years after I left my home, I let this spider (Florin) into my personal space to do with my mind and body whatever he pleased. I didn't think I could do a good job of anything in my life so whatever he said had to be better than what I thought. So many times he did wrong things in front of me, through me, to me... and it just made me sadder and sadder... until I got angry. I got so angry and I had no one to take it out on except myself, then eventually my closest friends/family and his family (because he had no friends). To this day, I'm still trying not to be angry. This is how it happened.
First, he told me to get rid of all my friends because they were what was causing my lack of confidence. That was the first step in my destruction: isolating me from anyone who might support my interests. My friends were people I chose with my tiny ego (sense of self) and were the beginning of my interaction with the outside world. My best friend, Helen, was a serious source of strength for me so he especially hated her. He told me she was sick for wanting to know too many details of my life. I didn't really know if he was right so I believed him. I couldn't go dancing with any male friends or to the parties/café outings like I used to. He used information about me from my past (the various men I had relationships with) to make me feel dirty and ashamed. So any sensuality I felt had to be suppressed. He accused me of having feelings for my friend Antonio but I really didn't … except he was the first male friend I'd ever had, but I was in no way attracted to him. No matter how logically I explained this to him, he wouldn't budge. It was either him or Antonio, so of course I chose him. The joy went out of my eyes and even people who weren't my friends at school noticed. I was gray all winter and looked at no one. He didn't even want me to look at men in the streets. I know that's normal in some relationships but the more I gave up, the easier it became for him to control me more and for me to lose more control of my life, my feelings and my strength. Then he told me to dress a certain way, to show dignity instead of passion. Then it happened. I was gone. I had completely disappeared. My arguments with him were passionate but he used his crafty mind to manipulate and get his way.
Eventually, no fights were winnable. When my professor put it to me straight to try and save me, I felt a shred of doubt. My professor was more than just a teacher, he was like Helen, a best friend. When I confronted Florin about what Paul had said, he, again, made me choose between Paul and him. This time, I was really torn and my logic made real sense. So, he came up with a plan. He knew he had me in the palm of his hand so he threatened to leave me. Leave me? When I couldn't live on my own! Think on my own! That was a fate worse than death itself. Nothing scared me more.
He had me feeling so small that the thought of living life without him seemed literally impossible. Who would love me? I didn't have my parents (my religion) around. What would I do without the constant guidance (religion) of Florin Croitoru? I would just simply die of loneliness and weakness. No one else could possibly love a hideous/loathsome/weak creature like me. I didn't have friends (because he said my friends controlled my life) my family was the enemy (because he said they controlled my childhood.) I was beyond petrified. Irrational fear and emptiness were overwhelming me. I felt so completely alone and helpless. No strength at all. No religion – faith in myself - at all. So… Florin abruptly left for Romania. He was a cunning one! Of course I blamed my professor and Helen for getting too involved in my personal life. When Florin returned thirty-two hours later I welcomed him back with hysterical joy. Him and only him in my life. I could be "happy" now. Can you imagine? He took a 14 hour flight back and forth just to terrorize me to prove his point.
No comments:
Post a Comment