Untangled 45: A tight little bow

When I got back to Dallas, I actively sought my healing and total freedom. I was severely broken, and I knew it. I was in need of deliverance yet again. So I went back to God, ashamed, dirty, and full of condemnation. How could I have allowed so much? Part of it is because I wanted the fairytale. The story was great on paper: we went to high school together, had no classes together, but years later, blah blah blah and they lived happily ever after. I was ready to start my forever. I needed a win in this area. At the time I believed that winning was more important than who I won with. After watching the last four men I dated, including my ex-husband, get married within a year of me, it left a mark. I felt dejected, unloved, and unwanted. Was there no suitable mate for me? If not, I just wanted to know why. In my 30s, I desired marriage more than life—not so much anymore. I’ve thoroughly learned my lesson regarding idols.

For months after the breakup, I was on high alert. At any moment, there could be a warm steak or flowers at my front door; there was not. I had no plan on ever taking him back, but I was curious as to why he didn’t even try. Could it really be that after five years, I meant absolutely nothing? That is what was more shocking to me. As humans, we even form attachments to pets after so much time, but me? Nothing. Then I started to read and learn about the narcissist and how they have no problem wasting time as long as their needs are being met. They don’t care if they spend 20 years with you; it’s no waste to them because they benefited in some way. They come in empty and you’re full, at the end they leave full and you’re the one who is empty. This is why it’s YOU who must walk away, sooner rather than later. It was sobering for me to KNOW that I was nothing more than a checkbook. It’s not even like I was rolling in dough; honestly I had nothing.. I did have a big heart and he knew that. I realized at the end that he simply didn’t care…he would’ve watched me lose the little I had and end up homeless and not blinked an eye. On the flip side, that’s the problem with empathic people—they are WILLING to lose everything to help someone in need. This is why narcissists seek out empathic people.

On my birthday, a few months later he tried to call me. I saw it and didn’t answer, and he didn’t leave a voicemail. He wasn’t blocked on my phone because he was still paying on the Explorer. I also don’t block too many people; I want you to know I’m one call away, and you still have no access to me. The last two car payments were a year after the breakup and they were like pulling teeth. He knew this car was the last tie to me, so he tried to keep it going. He was starting to run late on the payments; I had to text him once that the note was past due. He told me that he’d pay it when he got ready. I said, “You’ll pay it before midnight, or it will be reported stolen in the morning.” The Zelle was sent at 11:50. I felt like he owed me something for the pain and suffering, so I thought a few hundred wouldn’t hurt him. So I told him I miscalculated and that he owed two more payments, and then I hounded him until I got them. I used that money to get a massage and pay a few bills. When the title arrived in my name, I contemplated taking the car back and selling it, but I decided against it. I didn’t need to do anything to bring him down; he was already in the gutter. I was and will always be the bigger person. He needed the car to care for himself and not use another woman, so he could have it. I paid 3.5 years of the five-year note, so it was rightfully mine. In his messed-up mind, he believes the car has always been his and that he paid the bulk of the note. After the breakup, in the small sporadic text battles, I really saw how mentally ill he was. In one exchange, he said everything I did was a gift. That took me back because I didn’t know he believed that. Now I see how he sleeps at night, he even tells himself lies. It’s a good thing we are in the digital era, because I have receipts.

The last communication I got from him was in January of 2023. He had the unmitigated gall to ask me to sign for a personal loan for him. He really has no concept of what he’s done. I told him absolutely, positively not and never to contact me again.

My Lessons

He taught me that not everyone has a good heart or good intentions. I now know that people are capable of lying without a second thought. This has caused me to have tighter boundaries and to not ignore any red flags. The boundaries are for my protection and a guide on how to treat me. Narcissists hate boundaries; this is a tool that helps me to spot them. Walls are good—just be sure a door is on the wall to allow the right man in. I haven’t stopped giving or being helpful; I just know when to limit myself. I no longer ignore red flags or take people at face value. I’ve packed my paintbrush away; however he looks when I meet him is how I leave him. No more gut rehabs for me. I’ve hung my Barb the Builder toolkit up and have retired from man-building. I learned, most of all, that I can’t keep a man who doesn’t want to be kept. I can’t make him into a good man because I can see his potential. If he can’t see it, neither can I. I also don’t allow love bombing because it clouds judgment. I now trust my discernment 100% and use time as a tool to uncover deceit.

Personal Growth

As I dealt with those parts of my life, hope began to spring eternal in other areas. On a personal growth note, I have taken all that misguided love and poured it on myself. I no longer feel guilty about getting massages, that cute pair of shoes I like, or taking myself to dinner. I have enriched myself through numerous courses. I’ve taken courses to improve my self-esteem, to become a certified life coach, and three ministry basics classes. I also started to eat better and take walks every day. When I got with my ex, I was a size 8 (I’m 5’9”), and at my highest with him, I was in a 14. I’m currently back down to an 8. I consider that a win.

I’ve started doing annual Christian retreats. The purpose of these retreats is to provide a meeting point for those in need of emotional and physical healing—three days of full immersion in the Word, worship, and the Presence of God. Last year, more than 35 attended; 8 were baptized, and several were healed physically.

I founded Blake’s Bible Distribution as a nonprofit to help get the Word out. In its two years of operation, we distributed 3,689 free Bibles around the world. We were also able to buy six girls their freedom in Uganda from “money marriages.” This practice is unfortunately still alive and well in some underdeveloped villages on the outskirts of the city. It is where the parents sell their daughters into “marriage” to much older men for money. The youngest was sold at 7 to a 40-year-old man. I would get the price for release from a ministry contact in Uganda, raise the money, and get the girls free to grow up. Five of the girls desired formal education, so we paid their tuition and sent them. Any money that came into my hands passed into theirs. The distribution was a labor of love. I was so full of joy watching people get free. I got my freedom, so I needed to help someone get theirs.

I’ve become an unlikely author. I didn’t realize how cathartic writing could be. I also thought everyone wrote thousands of words a day and that I was nothing special. I simply love it; it gives expression to a medium that has no expression unless given. I’ve written and self-published two books on identity in Christ and collaborated on one about women in the Bible. This blog series will be revamped and made into a book. I left so much out that I need to go back and add those pieces.

I helped my daughter find and furnish her first apartment. She was dating a man who was very similar to my ex. and she was beginning to shrink herself because he had his own home. I decided that my story would NOT be her story. I wanted her to experience the freedom of having her own and choosing a man based on commonality, not necessity. My goal is also to strengthen our relationship. So annually, I save money in a separate fund to take her on birthday trips—just the two of us to hang out as friends. This past September, we went to Honolulu for her 30th. It was surreal and my favorite place so far.

I still deal with trauma responses in forms I didn’t know existed. I can’t have the TV volume above 5; I sleep curled up with jaws clenched. I still sleep with earplugs because his snoring was so loud it was heard all the way to my bedroom. I flinch when a man approaches me, or I cast my eyes down because I know what they’re capable of. From time to time, I wonder if I am the narcissist so I avoid connections and isolate myself to avoid causing others damage.

I started this blog series as a way of releasing some of what’s been bottled up. I thought my story was common; from your comments, I see that it’s not. At any rate, I’m honored to have so many readers and subscribers. I pray that my story serves as a cautionary tale—that at the first lie, you leave.

Updates:

Since walking away from the narc on July 4, 2022, he has tried to contact me on my birthday via phone call, which I ignored. He or his daughter views my TikTok account once every other week. I think he unblocked me on Facebook after the breakup. From time to time, he would message me with some weak threat to stop talking about him. He is still alive and possibly still in Texas—I don’t know and don’t care.

The ex from the beginning, who married a few months after seeing me, is currently divorced. He emailed me in August 2024 to “catch up.” I didn’t respond because I am not the same person that I was years ago.

As I mentioned before, Hobo Joe unfriended me when he was served the demand letter for repayment of the loan. I have never searched for him or cared to know if he’s still a slob.