It’s time to tell this part of my story… – Conclusion

In case you didn’t see it, Part 1

The trip driving back east was exhausting and the most inconceivable trip I could have imagined. I was exhausted but not from my pregnancy. I felt good other than slight feeling of nausea in the mornings, which had been what had made me think about taking a home pregnancy test. It came up positive. When I finally went to see a doctor we discovered I had become pregnant on my birthday within the first month of us living together and I had been on birth control pills.

I worked the last week while he loaded the trailer and cars with the things he decided to take. I knew he could have put much more in the trailer if he had only packed it properly but he was always telling me how I needed to let go of material things. They weren’t important. People don’t need all this stuff. But my furniture was in excellent shape, built well would stand up for another ten years or even twenty. As it turned out when we arrived at the apartment he couldn’t get the love seat up the stairs and he wouldn’t take it around back to bring up through the sliding glass doors. It ended up sitting by the dumpster.

Back to the drive. He drove the Tahoe with the trailer, I drove his little Nissan behind him. I think he stopped at every rest stop along the way, saying he was doing so for me because I was tired, when it was him that slept while I read or walked around the rest area. We never stopped at a hotel along the way. We slept upon the ground on a blanket where I could feel the cold and damp seeping through to chill me. I hated it. I told him I would get us a hotel but he refused. I was exhausted by the time we reached his parent’s house two days later.

We spent the night there, maybe two, and then went on. Three hours later we were at our apartment, him unloading the trailer. By night time I was exhausted and wanted to sleep comfortably so I suggested we go to Walmart to pick up a futon. He got angry at me told me I needed to endure. Saying it in such a way as to make it sound like I was weak and he was disgusted with my inability to endure a little discomfort. He stormed out to the truck sitting there with black silence pouring off him in waves. I told him to come back into the apartment that I could sleep for one night on the floor but he stayed there silently until I finally got in the Tahoe. He drove to Walmart where we picked up a futon and mattress. I tried putting it together (I discovered later he has no patience or skill for putting things together) in time for going to bed but I was exhausted so we put the mattress on the floor which was better than sleeping on the hard floor. His black silence lasted for days.

I didn’t know it at the time but this would be the pattern for the duration of our relationship and sometimes his black moods, or black silences came on for no apparent reason. At first I assumed it was something I did and I would walk around like I was on eggshells hoping to not anger him anymore and that he would come out of his anger faster. Nothing I did made a difference. When he would emerge he did so without there being any apparent reason to pacify him and he would act like nothing had ever happened. And we never discussed it.

We would have months of peace, harmony and wonderful sex. We would go out to places and have a wonderful time. During those times I would be extremely happy and filled with love and it would seem like I had the life I had always wanted. At least until the black cloud came and took it all away. His black silences were deadly and eventually, no amount of good times kept them from hovering in the background, overshadowing the wonderful times.

He continued to cook the meals, except when he was in the midst of his black silences. Then everything was up to me to take care of me, as well as my daughter after she was born. In his black silences he took care of no one but himself. Eventually, I told myself to stop blaming them on me and unless he told me there was a problem with something I did, or said or whatever then I would no longer place his black silences on me. I chose to no longer take responsibility for him. This worked to at least help me live a peaceful life and take care of my daughter.

He cooked for all of us but eventually I noticed when he fixed bowls or plates he only fixed them for the two of us and he fed our daughter from our plates. He took her to the parks but it was always on his whim. He did for the most part take care of her, carrying her when we went places if we didn’t have the stroller or she wanted out. But more often than not I took care of her during the day while he slept. He stayed up all night on the computer while I slept, going to bed just before I woke for work or if not then shortly after. So for most of my work day I was working and taking care of a new born baby and continued to do so.

It wasn’t until her potty training period that I started to see the way he was treating her. When she messed in her diaper he would be condescending to her, telling her he would stop feeding her so much because it was going straight through her. She had been doing wonderfully with learning to pee in the toilet and when it came to bowel movements she started something I wondered at for a while. She reminded me of a dog who is trying to find a place to poop. She would run into another room and then run in a circle a few times, then lean over with her hands of the bed or chair or floor and I could tell she was pooping in her diaper.

Eventually, peeing in the toilet almost came to a stop or she was fighting it when we sat her on the toilet. That was when I started noticing what he was saying to her when he changed her diaper.

I had a moment of clarity. My mind flashed back to when I was a child and how my father had always talked to me. When I left home I had vowed I would never let another person talk to me that way and yet here I was living with a man who was doing just that only worse than what I had when I was a child. I could not let him do that to my daughter. I became angry, really furious.

After he finished with cleaning her up and she was in bed asleep. I went to him in the other room away from my daughter so hopefully she would not hear. I told him I never wanted to hear him talk to our daughter that way again. Bowel movements are a normal part of life and she should not be made to feel bad about needing to go to the bathroom even if she goes in the diaper by accident instead of the toilet.

This was the beginning of me seeing him more clearly. My blinders were off. I started thinking about other things he was doing. He hadn’t worked a day since moving in with me. He had wanted to live in Canada and had said he wouldn’t mind having a job washing dishes if we were living in Canada. I told him I would remember he said that. I worked it out with my company so we could move to Canada. Taking on all the additional responsibility of working under a work permit. And yes another move however a bit better than the first because he had a couple friends helping that actually knew how to pack a trailer.

After about eight months in Canada, finances getting worse and worse because of bills I had from the US, in US dollars costing more because I was being paid in Canadian dollars, I asked him to find a job or get out. He said fine he would just go live off the street. Of course he pushed my buttons, I told him he could stay as long as he made an effort to find a job. I silently made my own deadline of September it was now March. He never found a job.

Oh I left one thing out. He had children from a previous relationship. When we met he wasn’t paying child support, so I picked it up and paid it so he wouldn’t go to jail, with the understanding that once he had a job he would pay me back. Unbeknownst to me he had lost his driver’s license, it had been taken away when he didn’t pay his child support. When finances got too hard, I stopped paying his child support and the mother of his children started taking him to court, before September arrived there was a court order for him to report to jail unless he could prove that he had a job and would start paying child support.

In August, I dropped him off at his parent’s house where he was supposed to work for his brother. He stayed out of jail. But the job didn’t last and a few days before Christmas he moved in with another woman. And that my friends is another story. She and I are friends and what occurred there was even worse than with me.

There is one other thing to make note of. When I left him at his parent’s house, my daughter and I returned home together. I had explained to her that her father would be staying with her grandparents for now. On the drive she asked me about daddy and I told her he wouldn’t be living with us anymore. She was almost two and a half years old. She didn’t cry. She seemed to understand.

That same evening when we got home, she climbed onto her little bike that had training wheels on it that her daddy had been trying to teach her how to peddle on her own and all she would do was let him push her or push it with her feet. When she got on the bike this time she peddled it all on her own without my help and without any encouragement from me. She did it all on her own and I praised her for it.

Potty training went like a breeze after that. No more hiccups, no more holding it in and trying not to go for either one. I didn’t need any more confirmation than those two things to know I had done the right thing.

There are huge gaps in this story, most due to things I just don’t want to remember. In regards to how he treated me there were elements of what he considered dominance for which I now consider borderline abuse. I could have said no and I don’t think he would have forced me (although in his next relationship as I understand it there was physical abuse, I am thankful he never laid a hand on me), but psychologically I didn’t want to test him.

Sex was both the best I ever had while at times it was the worst. The worst because I did things I really didn’t want to do but let him control the situation any way. Obviously neither one of us had any idea of what a healthy Dom/Sub relationship should be like. It definitely wasn’t what we had. His treatment was degrading and condescending, both things I thought I would not have allowed to have happened when I left home when I was eighteen.

I did question myself often about why I would consider some of the more forceful sex acts with him as being borderline abusive. When in D/s relationships it appeared to be acceptable. What I am beginning to understand is the difference between a Dom who dominates for the pleasure of the sub and a Dom who dominates purely for his own pleasure not caring whether it is harmful psychologically to the sub or not. I can’t stress this enough, the latter is what made the difference between my classification of borderline abuse and I lean more towards abuse in all aspects because of this definition. As I stated I have no experience in D/s relationships other than what I’ve stated in this post, so you may wonder how I could make such a statement. The rest of my understanding comes from research and studies from resources I feel are trustworthy and support and/or encourage healthy D/s relationships.

The one thing I have come away with from my research is, there should have been some sign of, if not love, at least approval, or happiness in his eyes that showed me how much he approved of my actions and what I did for him. And that my friends was missing entirely, all I saw in his eyes was dark, self-gratification, as though I were nothing to him but a tool or an object to scorn and despise and to get off on. And I don’t believe that is what a healthy D/s relationship is all about. If it is then I want no part of it.

But these are thoughts way after the fact. Why did I stay in the relationship so long (a little over 3 years) before finally getting out? Maybe I thought I didn’t deserve anything better, or maybe I was so desperate for the love I thought we did have that I would put up with a lot since the worst of it didn’t occur that often. But in the long run, I finally took the blinders off and stopped fooling myself.

In other aspects, he took no financial responsibility. He spent what money I made on things at his whim, when a black t-shirt started to look faded, he threw it out and bought a new one. He would however buy the groceries but again not care how much they cost. He would eat food at night leaving nothing for us or my daughter in the morning. He took trips in my Tahoe leaving me and my daughter without transportation for a couple days or so with no word from him as to when he would be back. And of course he did so by charging up my credit cards.

He claimed to others he was working as an entrepreneur trying to get investors to invest in building a large greenhouse in the area. All his business ventures were with people I never met. He also claimed to be an independent writer and yet he didn’t produce a thing while sitting at his computer all night long chatting with his lady friends. Yes I know for a fact he went to meet a few of them. We had an open relationship where I had permission to be with any man I wanted. I never pursued it, although there were a few who showed some interest.

I decided to challenge him one time in one of his statements about wanting to help financially once the greenhouse started paying him a salary. I had ideas in my head for making some items out of wood or metal, so I decided to design a platform bed, one that had no screws or nails needed to put it together, and could be dismantled easily and moved around and put back together easily. I also designed a set of shelves that were both decorative and adjustable made from metal and wood. I had drawings of both and told him his part was to find someone who worked in wood and/or metal who could build prototypes to make sure my designs worked or could look at the designs and help work out any flaws. He never even tried.

I’m sure there is much I have still left out, and may add to the post if it seems something significant. By the end of the relationship I considered him a user, manipulator and a leach. After research it may also appear he is a psychopath. When looking back at pictures of him with my daughter I could see no emotion in his face with any of them. Although one time when watching a movie I saw he had tears running down his face, but I wonder now how much of that might have been manipulation for other than his black silences I realized there wasn’t much emotion otherwise in our relationship. It now all appears to be one sided on my part and yet when I confronted him about getting a job and that I considered him a user and manipulator, he told me I had never been invested in the relationship emotionally. That I was cold.

After we separated and he was living with someone else, he tried on a few occasions to get back in my good graces and one time even attempted to kiss me when he was visiting my daughter. I put a stop to it pretty quickly and told him I never wanted anything to do with him again but I would never stop him from spending time with his daughter.

You might notice I keep saying my daughter except for a few select times. That is because he never supported her and in all his time with her after we separated he was only ‘fun daddy’. Eventually he screwed even that up by being inconsistent with his contact with her and telling her he would call or come see her and then did not, and letting months go by before contacting her again.

After explaining to her what a real father does, besides play with her and she understood completely what this meant, I told her she had a choice. She could either keep letting him hurt her by his absence and inconsistent contact, or she could accept the fact that this is how he is and keep that in mind whenever they were in contact. OR, she could walk away and never let him hurt her again. She chose the latter which I feel was the best decision she has ever made. Because, about a year later he ended up in jail for contact he should never have had with his older daughter. I won’t spell it out here because if my daughter should ever read this, she knows what she knows and I don’t want it to be anything else until she wants to know more. She knows the truth as a child her age is ready to understand it. When she is ready to know more, I want her to ask me, and not find it written in some post online where everyone else will know except her. He won’t be out of jail until she is around twenty even if he got early parole which his eligibility date is only one year earlier than his release date. As soon as he was convicted I filed for sole complete custody, he agreed without contesting it.



I know what I risk in writing this. First that those who know me including family who know part of this story will discover they know who Kate really is and learn many other things they never knew even those who grew up with me. That doesn’t bother me now like it used to.

That those who read it will think I should have known better or that I’m a weak person and may think they too can take advantage of me. Or that I should have paid closer attention to the signs. In the last part I would probably agree, but we as humans are all fallible, we make mistakes and though I agree I made some mistakes there is always a silver lining in every dark rain cloud. We can either accept what someone tells us, accept the person presented to us while keeping our minds open to what is actually going on around us, or we can live a life in distrust of everyone for, if we question one person and what they present before us, will that not also make us want to question the next person and the next until we trust no one? I believe so. I lived it for several years after his departure.

In reality, I chose to ignore the signs from the very beginning and I did so because of the intent from the beginning of my journey. To bring change, to find love, to love someone for the rest of my life and someone who will love me for the rest of their life. And then I left when I knew what I had come to learn had been learned, as much as it could be while we were together. The rest would come after his departure.

Remember that last one? Well I did end up with someone who will love me for the rest of their life and who I will love for the rest of my life, my daughter. She is a beautiful, wonderful human being and I’m extraordinarily lucky to have her in my life.

Now, remember the choice to change? I did change. I changed for the better. I learned that I am responsible for my own happiness. I learned to no longer live my life the way someone else thinks I should. I learned I am strong, stronger than I ever thought possible. And I no longer have deep, long, lingering depression.


It has taken me a long time since the relationship ended to forgive myself and to, yes, even forgive him. He is who he chooses to be. And I have chosen who I will be. I chose to believe him until I decided to see that his actions did not match the words he spoke. It may have taken me a while to leave but I did and before too much damage was done to my daughter and she has healed nicely.

As for me, I have learned a lot from my past experiences. I’m learning how my focus and intent must be clearly defined and to move in steps instead of trying to jump mountains to get to a destination that might not really be what I need.

If writing this and posting it for others to read helps someone to see a situation they are in is of a person who uses dominance in order to abuse, and this story encourages them to get out of the relationship then I’ve done my job. If it doesn’t then if nothing else it has been a therapeutic exercise for me and that is good too.

You can read an addendum to the story here.

About Kate Spyder

I'm a creative individual finding her way in her writing. I enjoy expressing my deep thoughts through poetry and stories. I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoy writing them.
This entry was posted in A Submissive's Journey, Journal, Mature and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to It’s time to tell this part of my story… – Conclusion

  1. jackcollier7 says:

    Why is it that so many women fall for total bastards? Why is it that so few women regognise a really good guy when they find one? Maybe I will never understand women. Maybe I’ll die trying.

    • Kate Spyder says:

      Good question! I’ve been asking myself that for years. Honestly? I could give you a whole lot of reasons, none of which would hit upon the real truth. I’m still discovering ‘why’. For me, mostly it is connected with deceiving myself and not really being in touch with who I really am. I ran away from my true self for so long, and I used the ‘bad boys’ to help me hide and blame everyone but myself for being so stupid. I learned the hard way to pay more attention to what a person does instead of what they say. I think the key is to find someone who is willing to help you understand them and who truly wants to understand you. Finding someone like that, at least for me is rare. Do we ever really understand someone? I doubt it. But are they someone who is deserving of our time to try? That is what I ask myself now. Usually the nice guys are. Unfortunately it has taken me over half a century to realize that. I hope you find someone deserving and if you die trying to understand her, well maybe it will be a fun journey before you do.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s