January 9th, 2018

me - with gun

(no subject)

I was thinking the other day of the weird type of lies that are told about me. But it wasn’t so much about the lies, but WHERE the lies started and why.

And I realized, I’m cool with it.

I DO NOT like being lied about, to specify. I hate it. It’s a trigger, essentially. But I know it’s gonna happen.

The common one is that I’m bad at polyamory and I break couples up - I’ve apparently ended more relationships than I realized.

But the origin of a lot of those breakups was one person realizing the other was abusive.

See, abuse, specifically the subtle types of gaslighting and emotional abuse and such, is a hot point for me. I post a lot about it, I share research and articles, I defend my friends against it, etc. It’s because of MY OWN history with it and the damage I’ve felt and seen that I feel so passionately about it.

So you know what? If a friend read my posts on abuse, and from those, realized they were being abused and left their abuser? Then you know what, fuck it. Yeah. It’s “my fault”. Go ahead and blame me if you want to. I’m proud that I helped an abuse victim escape their situation, even indirectly. If abusers want to spread lies about how I broke up their happy relationships, then that’s on them. Their victims are happier now, and I have no guilt or regret about that.
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