Lovefraud: Learning To Trust Again

Well – what a week it’s been! Last Wednesday I received the all-clear from my biopsy, and what a massive relief it was… So massive that I hadn’t fully understood how much I had been stressing over the whole episode. Yes, I know, it’s only natural to feel anxious over the potential of discovering a life-threatening illness, but I hadn’t appreciated just how much I’d been holding in, boxing off, pushing away so that I could deal with life on a day-to-day basis.

It took a good couple of days for the good news to sink in, and since then I’ve felt more ‘alive’ and full of beans than I have done for a long time. It’s only now that I’m feeling lighter and brighter, that I realize just how tense and low I had allowed myself to become. I guess there’s a whole lot of truth in that old sayings “we don’t know what we don’t know” – and let me tell you, now that I do know how much better I’m feeling, I am ready to grasp life with both hands. I’m enjoying a newfound and sense of liberty and excitement, and I notice that I have a huge smile most of the time now – inside and out. I also have a new level of calmness and confidence that I’m not sure I’ve ever experienced before.

Minor Irritations

Funnily enough, I’m also experiencing a number of ‘hiccups’ that I’m finding quite irritating – businesses closing just when I need to make an appointment, people not returning calls, my car breaking down, electrical equipment playing up. In previous times, I would likely have reacted one of two ways. Either I would have let it wash over me as if nothing had happened, or perhaps I would have scrunched up my face and clenched my teeth – but still not let anything ‘bad’ escape my lips. Now though, and this last week in particular, I have certainly been expressing my frustrations! I don’t think I’ve ever really done that before – well, certainly not in the way I have been cussing and stamping my feet over recent days. And you know what? It’s actually been feeling pretty darned good!

Previously, you see, I’d learned and believed that the more I chose to focus on something, the more I would bring similar experiences in to my life. The fact is I still believe that to be true. What I believe I hadn’t fully appreciated in the process before though, was that I can still focus on the ‘good stuff’ while also honoring very real sensations of irritation or frustration. Instead of doing that, however, I’d succeeded in pushing aside anything and everything that I’d deemed remotely ‘negative’ within my experience, which simply resulted in me ignoring myself. In doing so, I believe I also succeeded in shutting down my own intuition. After all, if I wasn’t respecting the niggling feelings because I’d judged them to be in some way harmful, then surely it stands to reason that I’d been equally incapable of accepting the good emotions as well…?

Thoughts Create Experiences

So here’s the irony. Many years ago I studied and worked as a Louise Hay trainer, where the whole ethos is all about loving and accepting ourselves – exactly as we already are. It’s also about the notion that thoughts become things. That changing our thinking radically changes our experiences and, therefore, our lives. That negative or unconstructive thoughts will naturally create negative experiences – right? Yes, all of that makes sense (and I still hold true to that perception of the world) and yet at the same time I was consciously choosing my thoughts, I now believe that I was subconsciously squashing myself. Despite myself, therefore, I had been living against the principal of loving myself – exactly as I already am!

How on earth could I trust my intuition if I couldn’t acknowledge and accept every response and emotion that was true for me? How on earth could I expect myself to know – to truly know – the difference between what was good or bad for me, if I steadfastly ignored the signs to say that something is wrong?  Yes, I could (and still can) choose my thoughts and create a more positive reality for myself – but in the process I couldn’t possibly fully know and accept myself within that positive reality.

Bottom line is, I wasn’t trusting myself. At least, that’s the way I see it now.

Now I’m really learning to trust myself – more so than ever before. And for me, that means allowing myself to feel, accept and express all manner of emotions. While I’m sure it may sometimes mean that a few of my responses may appear to be a little heavy handed while I get used to acknowledging the annoyances, I do believe that with practice I’ll find a level ground. And I also believe, that as I continue to recognize these little (or large) frustrations and express them honestly, that I’ll have less and less need for nuisances in my life. By which I mean, that the more I accept these ‘not so positive’ emotions as they arise – without judgment, labels or blame – then surely the more and more I am trusting and accepting myself?

Surely that therefore means that I can expect – and accept – an even more fulfilling life than I am currently enjoying…?

So, I am grateful for all the annoyances that have been showing themselves this week. And, rather than think that perhaps my thinking is somehow flawed for such things to be turning up in my life, I’m choosing instead to know that these are all more opportunities to express myself with more authenticity.

I guess the one thing to be aware of, though, is to make sure I don’t start enjoying showing my fierce or annoyed self too much – otherwise I could turn in to a perpetually grouchy person! Note to self – frowning will create a whole new batch of wrinkles. Much better to just make sure the smiley lines become more deeply engrained 

Original link to Lovefraud here

Lovefraud: Three Years After The Psychopath

This weekend marked an anniversary for me. It was three years to the day since I discovered the trail of emails that was to lead me to the truth about my ‘soul mate’ of ten years. Three years since my entire world shattered round me, leaving me lost and alone to deal with the ugly, frightening truth.

I remember so clearly the evening I found the black and white proof that my marriage was nothing but a sham. Reading one email after another, I remember literally holding my throat and gasping for air. Pushing down my nearly overwhelming desire to be sick, and doing my best to control the shaking in my legs while my heart pumped in my mouth.

I got through those first few days on pure adrenalin. I would not – could not – give in. I knew I had to stay strong and fight – both for myself and for my son. At that time I had absolutely no comprehension about the magnitude of the war that I was facing. I knew, of course, that my heart was broken and that life would never be the same again – but I did not understand just how far “hell and back” really was, nor how perilous the terrain. And in many ways I’m grateful for that.

Surviving The Aftermath

In many ways I’m thankful that I fell back on what surely is the most basic of all instincts – that of survival. I thank my lucky stars that I learned to focus on keeping myself together rather than contemplating the enormous emotional, financial, professional and spiritual carnage that had been steadily eroding my life while I blindly carried on giving love and support. Nurturing the very person who was cold-bloodedly using our “relationship” to fuel his own sordid existence – at my expense.

It has been one heck of a battle. Not with him because, as you know, I have neither seen nor spoken with him since the night I discovered the truth. Thank goodness he’d been in another country while I was sat at home in France. As soon as he knew he’d been rumbled, he quite literally disappeared. No explanation. No question. No contact. No nothing. Gone. No, my battle has not been with him as such… the battle has been with the world in general – and myself in particular.

Over the three years since that night, I’ve had to pull myself literally out of the pit of ruin and damnation. I’d been told I would lose my home, leaving my son and I on the streets with nothing but a pile of debts. I’d also been told that it would take years of expensive court battles to secure a divorce. On top of that, I also had to deal with the on-going insinuations from professionals that I must be “missing something up top” in order to let myself get in to such a ridiculously dangerous and hopeless situation “But madam” sneered a credit controller from the mortgage company, who just a few days before my discovery were about to sign an order to repossess the property “surely you must have realised something was wrong? We wrote you numerous letters telling you about the situation….”

“Yes!” I wanted to scream “and I never saw any of them because they were being hidden from me!”  But, of course, I realised that any kind of response like that would merely provide further ‘evidence’ that I had lost the plot. So instead I learned how to remain calm, focused, and unwavering in explaining that no, I hadn’t understood what was going on. That yes, now I was in full possession of the facts and was keen to clear up the mess. That I’d like to understand what I could do, and that yes, I could absolutely promise that any agreed payment terms would be upheld – despite the existing bad payment records (and despite having no idea how in the world I was going to be able keep my promise).

It was excruciating. So many of the seemingly tiny steps of progress would involve a ridiculously huge amount of personal control and calm – when all I really felt like doing was crying out and collapsing in a heap.

I remember the silent howls that raged inside as I bit my lips and took yet another deep breath “Why can’t you see? When is somebody going to support me? What is stopping you from realising the truth and helping me?”

But of course I couldn’t do that. Instead I used the hurt and anger to propel me forwards. Gritting my teeth and giving myself countless pep talks, I slowly came to realise that… in actual fact…. I didn’t need other people to understand or sympathise with my situation. Well, not in the way I had originally thought I did, in any case.

Acknowledging The Small Steps

No, as I built my self-support muscles I found that I could deal better with each new piece of information. Every time I achieved the smallest of achievements, I would pat myself on the back, or say something out loud to myself until the phrase “well done Mel” gradually settled itself as a regular in my verbal library! The more I did that, the more confidant I became that I would be able to come through – despite the vast array of information and so-called expert advise that kept insisting to the contrary.

My thoughts (and self-questions) gradually changed form. Gone was “why can’t you see the truth!” to be replaced by “I know what happened, that’s what is important. And it doesn’t matter whether or not you can understand – I don’t judge you either way”. Equally, thoughts of “I just can’t go on” were slowly substituted with“Bring it on – you’re messing with the wrong woman here!” But rather than being simply the war-cry of adrenalin-fuelled defiance from the first few days and weeks, it slowly became a solid declaration of the fact about who I really was. Who I had become, and (most importantly) who I always had been.

And as more battles presented themselves, I started to enjoy the continual cycle of personal growth while I slowly woke up to the truth that actually, I can do this. I am already enough. I always have been. I realised that I no longer needed validation from anyone else – because here I was, finally standing strong and proud by myself and for myself. Stepping up, speaking up and forging ahead became my spiritual and emotional work-out, and through the process I have become fit, strong and confident.

It hasn’t been easy. And I’m now facing some physical fall-out (no results from the biopsy as yet, but I’m feeling confident I can deal with the verdict, whatever it is) which, quite honestly, doesn’t surprise me when I step back and consider the full picture. I think it’s safe to say I’ve made it – I’ve passed go and collected £200 to boot. It’s been one heck of a journey and it’s no wonder that my body is now protesting – or perhaps just cleansing old patterns? No matter. I’m confident that this is another opportunity to learn more and live with more joy.

Would I choose to do it all again….? Never in a million years. And I while the prize is one I shall cherish forever, I would never wish my journey on anyone else. Ever.

What I will happily share, though, are all the lessons I’ve learned along the way. Because I do believe it’s possible for people to learn from the experiences of others…. My challenge is simply how to get the messages across in ways that are meaningful, useful and relevant. Hhhhmmmmmmm….. now that keeps me thinking 

Original link on Lovefraud here

Lovefraud: Through Fear To Love

I’m sure many of us here have read Susan Jeffers’ modern classic “Feel The Fear And Do It Anyway” – it’s a book that invites us to understand and accept our natural feelings of fear and then use them to do something different and create a more positive life as a result. I first came across the book when I studied as a Louise Hay trainer back in 1997 and I still regard it as a hugely relevant, well-written piece of work that offers practical advice for many situations.

Well, this week has been another opportunity for me to once again face my own fears – and also to acknowledge a few more of the hidden ones that have been sitting there niggling away in the background! Friday 13^th was round two of the biopsy process – a very different experience in many ways. After the appalling debacle on my first visit, I was understandably a little more uptight than the last time around, but this time I had a very kind and understanding surgeon and it went ahead successfully. Now I am just awaiting the results – which they are already hopeful will be clear. Another difference was that this time, not only did I have my wonderful friend Judi with me as before, but also my sister who had flown over from the UK to be by my side. So although of course I had to go through the procedure on my own, I knew even more than ever that I was surrounded by love and kindness while I continued to face what is probably my deepest darkest fear.

Childhood Experiences

As I’ve said before, my mother died very quickly from advanced breast cancer at the age of 44 – leaving my little sister and I orphans at the ages of 16 and 11. From that moment, she and I stuck together like glue in order to survive the emotional roller coaster ride that we’d inadvertently boarded. We also quickly learned many classic ‘survivor’ traits; hiding our pain, forcing our smiles, and doing all we could to fit in and be ‘normal’ in a world that was suddenly frightening and alien. It’s been a long battle since then – for both of us – and I’m hugely proud to say that so far as I’m concerned, we’ve both grown up to be healthy successful people. But of course it’s also fair to say that that kind of start in life has taken its toll on both of us. There are still moments where we both look back together at what happened and do our best to make sense of things. Those moments are never easy, and we rarely find any more answers – but even just acknowledging that we were both facing the turmoil together in the past, somehow facilitates a deeper sense of peace in the present.

Friday, therefore, was not only an ordeal for me but for my sister as well. Over the previous days and weeks, she and I had shared many emotional conversations. Sometimes we would talk about what was happening for me, and discuss our shared experiences to do with cancer. Other times we would talk about seemingly non-related issues… but always the underlying threat of fear and hurt was there. Sometimes we would laugh. Sometimes we would cry. Each time, though, I would come away feeling even more connected to the little sister I’ve loved even since before the day she was born.

After Mum’s death you see, we were thrown in to an environment where we learned early on that it was not ok to show or discuss our feelings. Instead we were told we must be grateful for the ‘care’ we were receiving. We must be respectful, do everything we could to help, and never ever complain. But where we lived was emotionally sterile, and we retreated in to our shells – burying our feelings in order to survive.

Self-Development

That is why I became so determined to find another way to approach life. That is why since those times I have been focused on making a difference. That is why I dedicated my professional life to coaching people so that they can realize their potential.

That is also why, ironically, I believe I became a target for a sociopath. Because I’d fought so hard, and had succeeded in finding a positive pathway out of a difficult situation. I guess I must have offered a glittering toy box of new skills and techniques that could be copied and used for his personal benefit.

A decade after meeting and falling in love with him, I was given the opportunity to put all of my skills – and more – in to practice in order to free myself from the living nightmare. Ironically again, I believe that my encounter with him – whilst giving me a good few doses of heartbreak, desperation and total destruction – has ultimately allowed me to grow even more. So therefore I remain thankful for the experience because it’s made me who I am today. And who I am today is someone who is choosing to face this very real threat of illness full on, face on, and with my head held high. No hiding from the truth any more.

Today, right now, right in the middle of it all I can hold up my hand and say out loud that yes I’m scared. I can say that I feel beaten up and tired from the fight. On top of the unknown, I’m still dealing with a nasty bout of bronchitis and laryngitis. So I can say that I have moments where I burst in to tears for no apparent reason. I can say that sometimes I am unable to sleep. That sometimes I feel overwhelmed by thoughts of “what if”…..

And you know why I’m choosing to regard this as a positive? Because for so many years – both as an orphaned child and also as the wife of a sociopath – I learned to put on a brave face, keep a stiff upper lip and carry on regardless. I didn’t cry. I didn’t share my fears. I wouldn’t open up and express my loneliness and isolation. Nope, instead I carried on.

Now, I’m not saying that is a bad thing – in fact it is many of those survival techniques that have brought me through many a rough period in my life. What I am saying, though, is that I’ve discovered that consciously allowing myself to feel and acknowledge the fear, the pain, the hurt (whatever the ‘bad stuff’ is) in the moment that it’s happening…. At the same time as implementing methods to keep on keeping on…. Well now that’sgrowth and progress.

There’s Always Something Good

And that is where I feel I am today. Acknowledging to myself and to others around me that I’m not in the best physical place right now. Saying out loud that I am most certainly feeling the fear… and also recognizing the huge amount of love that is surrounding me. And that in itself is scary! Not for any other reason other than old childhood experiences of deep loss, and the newer scars left from my marriage that still leave their traces in my present life.

As Susan Jeffers so rightly says – “we can accept fear simply as a fact of life rather than a barrier to success. We can unlearn the thinking that keeps us a prisoner in our own insecurities” I’m continuing to ‘unlearn’ old habits and choose new supportive behaviours. So this latest challenge, for me, is about re-flexing my focus muscles and determining to increase the “yes” approach to life. It’s about asking “let’s see what good will come from this situation” and seeking the value in the experience.

I’ve been receiving countless messages of support and encouragement, and feel truly blessed to be surrounded by such kindness. Now it’s another chance to open up more, let down more barriers, and accept more love – even though it feels scary. Well, that’s the way I’m taking it in any case. So once again I am grateful for what is happening – because it’s another opportunity for further expansion and conscious choice. To feel the fear, acknowledge its’ existence, and to move through it to greater love and peace.

It ain’t easy – but heck, I reckon it’s worth it!

Original link on Lovefraud here

Lovefraud: Deliberate Cruelty From Someone Who Is Meant To Care

Last week I found myself in an intimidating situation that required me to put all my skills of resilience in to practice. I was in the hands of a professional person who should be there to care for others. I was in a hugely vulnerable position, yet instead of receiving care, I felt myself being belittled, bullied and threatened. The person dishing out this particularly cruel treatment was a senior doctor in a private clinic, where I am a patient. A few years ago I would probably have put up with his behaviour, or brushed it off as being just something I mis-read – but not this time. Not now. Not ever again.

So I thought I’d share my story here on Lovefraud.

As you already know, I had a health scare that was resolved a couple of weeks ago. Whilst I was given the all-clear at the time, the doctor said it would make sense to arrange for a biopsy to double-check and to put my mind at rest; purely, he reassured me, because of my family medical history (mum had died of breast cancer at the age of 44). The straight forward needle-biopsy would be done under local anesthetic and would take less than half an hour. So last Thursday, I trotted off to the clinic expecting a purely routine, simple procedure that would prove beyond doubt that I have a clean bill of health.

I felt chirpy, relaxed, and perfectly ready for whatever they wanted to do – a marked difference from my previous visit where I was uptight, frightened and full of dread. They’re a great bunch of people there, and I chatted away happily to the receptionists and also to the technician who came in to explain the details of what was going to happen.

All fine, all good, all dandy – everything made perfect sense (although I felt a little unnerved by the technician’s statement that nobody can be sure that the lump is not cancerous until the tests are completed in the laboratory) and I went in to the doctor’s surgery feeling calm and prepared.

Just When You Least Expect It

I am making a point of telling you this, because I am keen to make it clear why I felt so totally blindsided by what happened next. The friendly technician (Thomas), thank goodness, was still in the room when the doctor arrived. The very moment he walked in, though, the atmosphere changed. The smile went from Thomas’ face, and I felt him tighten up as the doctor criticized everything he had done to prepare me. The cleaning and sterilization wasn’t correct, the anesthetic wasn’t the right one… even the fact that Thomas had allowed me to keep my shoes on was wrong!

Bear in mind I’m lying half naked on a table, my arm above my head with my breast covered in yellow iodine – and here was this so-called professional (who hadn’t even had the courtesy to greet me or even give me a smile) throwing disapproving comments to the friendly technician who had done everything he could to put me at ease. It was a hugely uncomfortable atmosphere, and I felt myself stiffening. I was in a physically vulnerable situation, but there was no way I was going to let myself be bullied by this rude man.

So I started chit-chatting to break the tension. The doctor was sitting next to me but still would not look at me – although I was looking straight up in to his eyes. Can you guess what I saw? The familiar empty, cold and emotionless expression that sent a shiver of recognition down my spine.

I knew how important it was to get this biopsy over and done with, so I kept on looking at the doctor and kept asking questions. He asked me to point out the lump because he was having difficulty finding it on the ultrasound. When I moved my hand towards the area he huffed, rolled his eyes and told me off for accidentally touching a part of my skin. “Now look what she’s done” he spat at Thomas “we’re going to have to sterilize all over again!”

It carried on like that for a good few minutes more. I asked what he could see on the screen and said to him that I’d been told that there was nothing to worry about

“Well, Madame” he sneered, pushing the scanner just a little harder than necessary in to my breast “it doesn’t look like ‘nothing’ to me – you have lots of cysts, but this… this is something quite different!”

Deliberate Cruelty

He seemed to take pleasure brandishing his power, and deliberately making me nervous. It was working on Thomas, but it wasn’t going to work on me. I kept my focus strong and refused to look away from his eyes – still keeping my expression relaxed and my breathing regular as he picked up a huge needle and brought it close to my breast.

“And now, Madame” he said, fixing me with cold eyes and a straight face “you have to shut your mouth and shut your eyes”

Taking a deep breath and maintaining eye contact, I calmly said no. “I can give you silence” I said “but I am not closing my eyes”

“Well you have to” he replied, a little taken aback by what he probably saw as insolence “I have to work in silence and it annoys me if a patient watches what I am doing. I must instruct you now to close your eyes and keep your mouth shut while I do my work. I need you to do this or I cannot do my work”

“And I need someone who can reassure me and put me at ease” I replied, still staying calm, still smiling, and still fixing him with my gaze “this is my body, and I would like to watch what is happening”

With that, his mask slipped. Blinking furiously, he threw down his instruments, stood up, huffed and puffed and spat out the words “I won’t work in this way Madame, you’ve ruined it. You’ve messed it up, this is your problem. I am leaving – good day Madame!”

And with that he flounced out of the room, slamming the door behind him like a petulant teenager, leaving Thomas and I open-mouthed in the silence that remained.

So that was the end of my biopsy. I sat up, covering myself as best I could and looked to Thomas for some kind of explanation. I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong, but still the whispering questions had already threatened to surface “Is this my fault? Could I have handled this differently?” – but those questions were instantly silenced when I saw Thomas’s face. He was mortified.

“I am so sorry Madame” he said, reaching out to touch my shoulder “this is nothing to do with you. He is a very difficult man and we have had many problems with him. He’s the same with all of us, it’s very bad”

“But this is not right!” I replied, tears of frustration pricking in my eyes and uncontrollable shakes by now beginning to show in my hands “It’s not right that he’s allowed to do this! Why is he in this job? How can he be allowed to treat people this way? It’s totally unacceptable!”

And then came the response I have now become accustomed to hearing

“But he’s our boss. We know it’s wrong, but what can we do?”

Standing Up For What Is Right

This monster works in a clinic that specializes in detecting and treating breast cancer. My heart sank, imagining how many people – staff as well as numerous vulnerable patients – this so-called professional is bullying and criticizing every day of his life. How many people leave the clinic feeling a little less confident, a little more worthless, and in some cases physically abused. People who go there expecting help and support in their darkest moments, and end up feeling belittled and humiliated! But because this man is an educated, revered professional, nobody is standing up to him – so he gets away with it!

I understand that I am the first person this man has actually walked out on. Good, so he’ll remember me. Because I’m also the first person who is going to stand up, speak out, and make certain this man is held accountable for his actions.

The experience shook me enormously. For the next couple of days I found myself bursting in to tears for no apparent reason. But you know what? I’m now back on track and taking the first steps towards dealing with the authorities who are responsible for this man. I’ll let you know how I get on.

In the meantime, my biopsy has been rescheduled with another doctor for Friday 13^th April – lucky for some, and super-lucky for me. Well, at least that’s what I’m choosing to think in any case!

Original link to Lovefraud here

Lovefraud: They Just Can't Understand - Why It's So Hard To Explain The Truth To Others

This week’s post is based on recent experiences and inspired by this comment posted on a previous article – “the eyes see only what the mind knows” (thank you ‘woundlicker’). It’s the on-going subject about how on earth we can open other peoples’ eyes about the psychopaths who live and breathe among us. My recent experiences have highlighted, yet again, how tricky it is for people to get their head around this kind of information – let alone accept that they have been duped!

I often think back to the early days after I discovered the truth about my ex, and how puzzling I found it when people just didn’t seem to believe me when I told them what had happened. No matter how many reams of black and white evidence I had to support my claims, no matter how many times I repeated the story, and no matter how many ways I explained how a psychopath works (based on what I learned after the event) they would still ask questions that left me open-mouthed and speechless. “But surely he must be feeling absolutely terrible, and he must be missing you so much now – do you think there might be a chance you will get back together?”

I remember every time a question or statement like that was made – in all innocence, of course, because they were only trying to understand the unthinkable truth – I felt the emotional blows to my chest and my stomach as if they were real. Over and over, the shame and guilt would be relived as people screwed up their faces trying to make sense of what I knew to be the truth “but surely, Mel, a bright and intelligent person like you, surely you must have known something was going on?”  “How can anyone tell so many lies for so long – it must have been exhausting!”  Many times I felt like screaming out loud… although on most occasions I decided that calm responses would serve me better in the long run! Yes, I am bright and intelligent (although there were times I began to wonder whether perhaps I might have been better understood had I been deemed slow and dim-witted!) and yes, lying is exhausting for the likes of normal people. But as everyone here knows, we’re not dealing with a ‘normal person’ – these people simply don’t tick the way we do!

We’re NOT All The Same!

As is often discussed here on this site, we don’t know what we don’t know… and the fact is, in order to learn new things, people need to find something – anything – to connect with something they already know. It’s like finding a foundation stone, or a solid piece of ground from which to start…. The difficulty with explaining the psychopath, though, is that while they may look like us and often come across better than many normal people, that is where the likeness ends. So people who are doing their best to understand, automatically link the appearance of a normal person with what they know to be the behaviours of a normal person – specifically themselves, or people they know. And unless someone has already been targeted by a psychopath, the idea that such ‘creatures’ exist and influence others in such a negative way is often pooh-poohed as being far fetched. As if such a notion is as ridiculous as early childhood fears about bogeymen and monsters under the bed.

I remember many times feeling certain that well-meaning people were quietly calling my own sanity in to question “well, you’ve been through an awful lot – perhaps you’re over-reacting a bit? It’s understandable, of course… I’d do the same… but perhaps, you know, it’s not as bad as you think…?” I knew at the time that they meant no harm. That their kind eyes and hugs were meant to reassure me… but each time I heard words like that, it would be another kick in the teeth and I’d shut up and hide myself away even further – becoming more and more determined, absolutely resolutely and passionately determined, that some day I’d tell every detail of my story so that I would be heard and believed. Certain that in doing so, not only would I vindicate myself, but that my actions would also provide others with a platform to identify with and make sense of their own experiences. I’m coming to realize, though, that this is just the start.

The Parasitic Predator

In my professional career, I work in the field of leadership development. This means that I am regularly exposed to top-level directors and managers within large organizations. According to Robert Hare and Paul Babiak’s recent study of more than 200 executives, nearly 4% scored at or above the traditional cut-off for psychopathy. Dr Babiak uses the phrase ‘parasitic predator’ to describe corporate psychopaths, saying “They are parasitic in that they are looking for a host to support them. A big company is an easy place in which to hide” Couple that with the fact that many leadership skills can arguably be translated in to psychopathic traits, it makes even more sense that this level of professionals could indeed include around four times the number of psychopaths than research suggests we should expect to find in every day life. In the corporate world where profit is king and ruthless decision-making can be viewed as a positive if not necessary attribute for successful leaders, it makes perfect sense to me that psychopaths should be attracted to this arena.

It also makes perfect sense to me that, with an increasing awareness about psychopathy thanks to the work of people like Dr Robert Hare, and the growing audiences on sites like Lovefraud and I Am Fishead, people are finally starting to wake up and smell the coffee. Not as much as I’m sure most of us here would like – but it’s a start. Take for example the scathing resignation letter by Greg Smith, the executive who worked for nearly 12 years at Goldman Sachs. Whatever the gentleman’s reasons for writing the letter, he clearly stated the existence of unethical, immoral and callous tactics that he alleges were used by employees of the firm. Regardless of where the ‘blame’ lies, I for one am pleased that truths like these are being aired – allowing people more opportunities to vote with their feet, and also to become curious as to what is meant by a bad or ‘toxic’ culture. Along the old adage that no publicity is bad publicity, I buy into the idea that the more these issues are talked about, the more people can choose to find out more – and that, surely, can only be a good thing.

Because it’s a tough job getting people in senior positions to understand and accept exactly how damaging continuing actions of some of their peers can be – to the staff, to the culture and ultimately to the business. I came across a specific case last year, where it was perfectly clear to me that one particular senior person was creating havoc within her department. She was one of those people who knew all the right things to say and could turn on the charm at any given moment. Her bosses adored her, believing her to be the best thing since sliced bread, and her peers admired her business knowledge (marveling at her experience and buying her rather off-the-wall strategy for the business). Her team, though, was terrified of her. When I asked them on a confidential one-to-one basis how they would describe the culture, their eyes would dart around the room, they’d shift in their seats and they’d ask me how confidential their answers were going to be kept. After a great deal of reassurances, I got the truth – both barrels. As these people talked, words such as “fear-based” “abusive” “bullying” and “controlling” came out time and time again.

That, in my opinion, was bad enough. But when the performance of this particular department was actually scrutinized for factual proof of performance, it turned out that the results had plummeted since this lady had taken over – despite her consistent and eloquent affirmations that her plan was working! I found it baffling to understand how she was able to maintain her position – and what was stopping her peers and her immediate bosses from seeing through her performance. Until, that is, I started talking with them and really hearing what they were saying.

I Thought It Was Me!

Yes, they’d heard the rumours and had of course realised that the figures were not stacking up to the original plan. They also knew that it was difficult to stand up to this person in meetings, as she would shout people down and baffle them with long-winded justifications about what she was doing and why they need to stick with the plan.  The entire team, not just those who worked under this person, had learned to walk on eggshells around her. This had been going on for so long that many of them had simply given up any idea of questioning her tactics – because it had become just too draining and too much hard work. “And anyway” whispered one of her peers when the truth started to emerge “I thought it was just me! I thought I was the one being stupid! I thought that I just wasn’t bright enough to understand the plan!”

It was a Homer Simpson “Doh!” moment for me. Well of course people are going to find it hard to stand up to people who are highly likely psychopathic – in exactly the same way it was difficult for me to break free, or even realize what was happening. Even after the truth became clear, there has still been (and continues to be) a long journey back to health and self-respect. So I can fully appreciate that it may seem the ‘easier’ route to just let things continue, particularly in the workplace where (in many cases) you can leave it all behind when you leave at the end of the day… better the devil you know eh?

Well no actually. The devil you know is certainly not the best option in my opinion. Because if we don’t stand up and do something when something is clearly wrong, well then we’re giving the message that this kind of behaviour and culture is ok. It’s in these kind of places that the good people tend to walk away when they realize what’s happening. These are the kind of places where the workforce that is left is emotionally shut down and just there to get through the day rather than being there to develop enthusiasm and passion for the business.

But you know what I’m realising? I’m realising that when people begin to understand and consciously embrace positive team and leadership behaviours, the ‘devil you know’ is suddenly left out on their own – because they can no longer thrive or manipulate when their peers and bosses are learning about honest and open communication. When the team trust each other enough to say “no” whenever inappropriate behaviour creeps back in. When they are confident enough to ask each other to explain the detail when something is not clear. With those behaviours becoming second nature, the psychopath’s manipulation and mind-games are suddenly ineffective – because fear is replaced with trust, silence with questions, and uncertainty with passion.

And I’m learning that there is no need to point the finger or even use the word psychopath – which, in a corporate environment can create some pretty big responses. No. The fact is, the more we as ‘normal’ people learn to step up and say “yes” to the good stuff (the things we like, that are healthy, that enable us to grow as individuals and as a collective) and say “no” to the bad stuff (fear, control, manipulation and deliberately confusing word-smithing) the less psychopaths will be able to thrive among us.

And you know what? It only works 

Original link on Lovefraud here

Lovefraud: Authenticity - Finding Peace In Being Real

This week I’ve been thinking a great deal about how we move back to authenticity after having lived in a false reality with a sociopath. After all, like so many of us here, when I was in the grips of that particular relationship, I believed that everything was real at the time. More than real in actual fact – it was all my dreams come true! So now, I’m wondering, how do I know – really know – whether I’m living in an authentic way or once again falling in to a contrived existence that is nothing more than imagination or self-deception? Yes it’s true that I am physically free from him (and have been for nearly three years thank goodness) but am I really free from the thought patterns that had me trapped for so long? Can I really trust myself to distinguish the differences between make believe and reality?

Well, I’ve been given the opportunity to find out for sure. Four weeks ago I discovered a rather suspicious lump just under my left arm. Hot and cold shivers shot through my body the second I found it, instantly triggering memories of my mother who died from breast cancer at the age of 44. Luckily, I happened to be on the telephone to a friend when I found it. A friend who witnessed my shock and also recognized the fear in my voice. A friend who let me know that it was real. That I wasn’t imagining it. And that it was something I couldn’t ignore or pass off as being just something I’d made up – I couldn’t kid myself that it was nothing to get excited about. Nothing to worry about. It was a red-flag, and this time (unlike so many other kinds of red-flags I had pushed aside or explained away when I was married to my ex) I was jolly well going to do something about it.

The Witness

Having a real-time witness to my shock discovery played a huge part in what happened next. Looking back, I believe now that the very fact that another human being heard my instinctive response at the very moment it happened, helped me to stay focused and real and do something about it. Because regardless of whether or not the lump was anything dangerous, the fact that I was scared was enough to prompt action. I went to the doctor the very next day.

This made me think about how different my actions had been when I was living and believing the lie. Each time something shocked or hurt me, I would argue in my head that it was nothing serious – repeating the same old excuses that “He didn’t mean it” “He’s stressed and tired” “This isn’t what he’s really like” and probably the most harmful excuse of all “You’ll be ok, you can handle this – you’re fine, it’s nothing, ignore it”

The thing is though, whenever anything like that happened it would always be in private. Or if in public, the put-down would be so subtle that nobody else would notice, and I would question whether or not it had actually happened in the first place! I became used to rolling with the blows – emotionally and spiritually, I never had to deal with physical abuse – and numbed myself to the shocks.

I believe that for a long time since discovering the truth, I still kept myself numb. It was a useful survival tool. “Comfortably numb” became a way of ‘being’ that got me through the bad days and gave me the strength to fight the never-ending stream of seemingly impossible battles. Without him in my life, though, the numbness was helpful and directed purely at finding a way through for me and for my son – when I lived with him the numbness was, quite literally, senseless.

Too Sensitive?

Over recent months I’ve sometimes wondered whether I’ve lost some of my fighting spirit. I seem to buckle and smart at the smallest things that in previous years I would never even have noticed. I am much more willing to start a conversation and raise my point when I feel hurt or upset. I am also paying much more attention to the way I respond to situations – and asking whether it is a real or learned reaction. Do I reallymean that particular response? Is it a genuine emotion? Or is it just because I’m afraid, or unsure?

What do I mean? Well, for example, I sometimes find myself prickling or bristling at the tiniest innocent comment – only, incidentally, when the comment comes from a close friend. So then I start to wonder whether I’ve become a big softy? Have I become too vulnerable? Have I just lost the plot when it comes to reality…? No. I think the answer is something much simpler than that. I think the fact is that in the wake of the sociopath, my inner guidance system is now so highly tuned that I pick up on the tiniest words or gestures that could possibly cause upset. In the ‘bad old days’ I would have deliberately ignored those signs. These days I’m acutely aware of so much more – and far from being a bad thing, I think it’s a very good thing indeed. I believe it’s another step in the healing process.

Because, if something ‘prickles’ now, I have choices that I never allowed myself before. These days I can decide whether or not the gesture/comment was deliberate. If it was, then I can choose whether or not to highlight it and talk it through with the other person, or work it through myself. If it wasn’t, I can decide whether I’m actually ‘upset’ by what happened, or instead perhaps just feeling fearful that another person is so close to me that a tiny thing can cause me to recoil? Does that level of closeness and trust make me once more vulnerable to the deliberate manipulation that my ex used against me? No, of course it doesn’t – because first of all my ex was nothing like any of my friends. They are real, he is a sociopath. And secondly, because now I am so keenly attuned to what helps me grow and what squashes my soul, I’m sure I will never again succumb to the ways of anyone who wishes me harm.

As I’m sure you can imagine, the past four weeks have provided a wonderfully fertile ground for seedlings of doubt and fear to take root. And this time, rather than push them away or ignore them, I decided to share them with people who were around me and who could help. I also chose to share my discovery with my son – thanks to the advice given by a very wise friend. I hadn’t wanted to tell him anything, on the assumption that the lump would turn out to be nothing at all. “And then what?” she questioned gently “Do you want to do the same thing to your son as happened with your mother? She kept it from you until it was too late. I think you’d be wise to trust him and share your concerns”

Share The Truth

So I told him. We hugged. We cried. We said it would all be ok. And we also acknowledged the fact that the truth was out. Nothing was hidden and the trust between us grew even stronger.

I’ve learned that it’s ok to share feelings. It’s ok to share fears. It doesn’t pay to keep things hidden away. I’d done that for far too long. There is far more peace in just being real.

The medical examination was on Friday of last week. Regardless of the results, I’d decided that we would have a celebration in the evening. A delicious meal with family and close friends, to celebrate the next part of this adventure called life – whatever it may mean.

At just gone 16.30hrs I received the news I’d been waiting for. The lump is benign, and I am clear and healthy. Tears of relief rolled down my face, and my shoulders finally relaxed. They, along with my neck, had been held tight over the previous few weeks – more so than I had realised. Now I could let it all go… and I did.

My son? Well, along with the huge bear-hugs and tears, he thanked me for telling him in the first place, and for giving him the opportunity to share and to care.

I’m truly blessed to have such wonderful people around me. I am lucky to have so many opportunities to grow my spirit. And now, now that I have another ‘all clear’ I feel lighter and clearer than ever before.

Have I lost my fight? No… far from it in actual fact. Now there is no need to fight – in it’s place there is a desire that I now know for sure springs from love and acceptance. It’s a desire to reach out and to share. To join with others who have survived their own battles. To say ‘enough is enough’ and to slowly and gently move back to authenticity. Slowly and surely shining as each of us reclaim our loving, beautiful, innocent selves. After all – that’s who we all really are, isn’t it?

With extra love, blessings and gratitude. Thank you.

Original link on Lovefraud here

Lovefraud: When Love Isn't Real - The Shame Of Deception

I’ve just travelled back from the UK today, and during my journey I read an article that made me sit up and take notice. It’s the story about a teenage girl, Gemma Barker, who created three separate male aliases in order to dupe her female friends in to sexual relationships with her. She had made enormous efforts to develop and maintain these aliases. She succeeded so well, in fact, that not only the victims but also their families were fooled in to believing that Gemma was a boy. Whilst it’s claimed that she suffers from autism spectrum disorder and ADHD, the judge still called her “Cunning and deceptive” and the report states that she showed no remorse when handed her sentence. Ring any bells?

The thing that really struck me, though, was a quote from one of her victims who was 15 or 16 at the time. Gemma was 18, so legally an adult. Saying that she felt “repulsed and dirty” after learning that the boy she loved was actually her female friend, the victim goes on to say

“Nobody understands what it’s like to be told that the person you love and want to spend the rest of your life with isn’t real. It’s like you have disappeared. I just want to stop hurting” She also asks the poignant rhetorical question I know many of us will have asked ourselves: “What did I ever do wrong to you?”

It’s heart-breaking isn’t it? The shame of deception runs deep. Left untreated it can grow, multiplying like a cancer in the soul of those whose only crime was to love someone else. People who trusted what they were being shown, and treated the other person with care and compassion – while the other person just looked on and laughed. While in some cases there may not be any physical scars, the emotional and spiritual damage hits hard in every case. It is far more damaging – and can last so much longer.

I would have hoped that in this day and age, perhaps there might be a little more understanding and compassion for people who have been duped. After all, there are plenty of stories. Accounts from people who have been deliberately deceived and misled. People who, like us, gave all we had to people we believed and loved with all our heart.

You know what, though? Reading through some of the comments that have appeared online after the article, I am disheartened that so many still seem more focused on blaming the ‘stupidity’ of the victims, or urging us to ‘take pity’ on the person who deceived the girls. For many people, I know it may seem hard, almost impossible to believe that someone can get away with such a deception. But for those of us who’ve been there, once we work through the pain and shame, we know we were not to blame! We know we were not stupid, gullible, needy, blind or any of the other stinging veiled questions that stab at our soul as we try to make sense of what has happened.

It’s not just deception in romantic love that causes the pain. The hurt of betrayal can hit just as hard when it’s about relationships of trust between friends and family, or perhaps misguided loyalty to bosses or colleagues. Whatever the connection, when hit with the cold hard truth, the horror can be almost overwhelming.

And… in the same way that I had absolutely no comprehension of these sorts of behaviors before it happened to me, I guess the question is how on earth can we reasonably expect other people who haven’t ‘been there themselves’ to have any level of understanding? Well? It’s a reasonable question…. But then, in recent times I‘ve realized that our natural propensity to be reasonable and understanding is just another of the ways people are exploited while predators continue to thrive. It’s by thinking “Oh, they’re just under pressure!” “Well, you know, we all make mistakes!” or “It’s ok, I know they didn’t really mean it – I won’t say anything it’s not that important” that the abuse is allowed to continue, right under the noses of ‘reasonable’ people who just can’t begin to comprehend that the attacks are deliberate!

It’s the same reasonable, caring approach by ‘normal’ people that keeps these heartless creatures free to continue what they are doing. It’s also the thing that hurts the victim time and time and time again – because there is no reason behind why these predators do the things they do. There is no explanation. They’re just like that – and they’re darned skilled at what they do. And that’s all there is to it.

So, these days I’m becoming stronger and more determined in what I am now beginning to see as a crusade to educate and help others. Yes, the numerous judgments and barbed comments from people who don’t know what they’re talking about can grate and often rattle me. But you know what? I’ve also decided that there is little or no point in getting frustrated at those people. It’s fair to say that we don’t know what we don’t know…. It’s also fair to say that I now have an unreasonable passion to do something about it whenever I come across a situation where people are being hurt and the perpetrators are getting away with it. I’m determined to help people remove their blinkers and recognize that yes, there is such a thing as ‘bad people’ who live among us. It’s tough. Because it means inviting people to consider that they have been conned. That they, too, have been taken in by someone who tells lies as easily and effortlessly as you and I breathe.

The more I get to understand this subject, the more I believe that the self-righteous outpouring from people who have never been in that situation, stems from fear. The fear that perhaps, in the same shoes, they may not be quite so streetwise as they’d like to think. Perhaps they are not as invincible to the surgically accurate deceptions of a person who does not have the same emotional wiring as we do. A bit like children hiding under the covers when they’re afraid, it’s a good short-term fix but it doesn’t get rid of the bogeyman!

The thing is, though, hiding away or going in to denial will never get rid of the bogeymen – or women. All of us here know that from our own experiences. I’m determined to do all I can to ensure that ‘first hand experience’ does not remain the only way to be certain that the person who is causing the harm is usually a harmful person. I know there’s a long road ahead – I also know it’s a road that’s well worth travelling.

Original link on Lovefraud here