How I Fell In And Out of Love With A Con Artist
I was sucked into the vortex a 22 minute video about a girl with glasses, all of these socialite pictures flashing across the screen, and then asking, “Is there something amiss about her?”
What were the red flags? What were the signs she was a con artist? Now locked away for fraud, impersonation and the stealing of services. I am reminded of my past selves in this era. I look at my relationships now and see in subtle ways how I stab like it’s my wound, repeating what someone has done or said to me thinking in the brain that it’s right but feeling in the body that it’s wrong. I know I am hurting.
I have hurt. I know I have hurt. I am hurting, can hurt. Have and hold hurt. This is a story of a musttake situation. An experience had but not forgotten, witnessed, re-witnessed, paragraphs, dreams, PTSD replayed images.
Written January 18th TWNETY18 //
How I Fell In And Out Of Love With A Con Artist
The worst part is that I knew who I was going into it. I was so sure of what I stood for and what I wanted, what I fight for and who I am. I thought I knew who he was too. Now I don’t know what to think or how to shut off the images.
The thing is, you go along and things happen and you keep trying to do the right thing and move forward. This year was just about surviving.
You loose pieces of you little by little and the moment you realize how much of you is gone **I mean how much has been taken** it's too late. You already know what you have to do next. It’s the strength it takes to leave and walk away and never look back. It’s power over yourself. And it takes a bit of magic to pull you through.
It started off sweet. He *acted like the girl of everyone's dreams. That literal picture in your mind of how you feel when you're falling in love. Picked up in a shiny black convertible, wisped to dinner on the pier, there are gold lights and birds off in the sunset. You're sipping and then head to the next spot but when you get home you're puking and it's not your fault. The drinks got stronger. He didn't look out for you. He only wanted to fuck you.
You can't because you are sick on your knees in the bathroom, saying things you don’t mean, that aren't true about yourself but that for some reason you think he needs to hear. You can't because you're not even in your own head or body right now. Pissed but, “wake-up sex?”
The feeling of floating into, falling in.
Too deep.
It was warmer back then; I could see it so clearly. I was happy to be doing these things, to be driving, cruising with you. Seeing the world through your eyes. Through your eyes on me.
You projected the image you wanted me to be. But not me. Not me, I was never supposed to be that girl. I don't want to be a stay at home mom. I don't need you to fund my life.
In the beginning it was a meal and drinks, then gas money, a plane ticket. Then I got angry and bought things on your credit card. You said you didn't care. When it came down to it, you said you wanted to support me while I chased my dreams. BUT only if those dreams aligned with your sleep schedule and your need to be fucked schedule. You put your false ideas about how the world is, into my head. "Everybody is on something.” “Every woman wants that."
I could start to see through it. I would literally feel him say something and immediately know why he said it, I don’t know what in his mysoginistic mind made him think it was okay to speak to me like that or "where he was coming from” but I could feel how wrong it was. I sensed
so deep
inside of me that it was
so wrong.
That is not how you love someone.
I tried so hard to pass on my mother's kindness and care in taking care of myself and this lover when we were sick. So much patience and time I spent worry about him and his needs.
Once I knew I lost the only thing I really ever wanted, I lost a part of my spirit…I know where it is and how to get it back but I also lost the motivation and the will to work on for it.
For a while I have to go through the heartbreak and the loss, another mourning process, to know how to get it back. Get back to Self.
Now, dealing with the guilt. The guilt I only have because he brainwashed me into thinking I owe him anything. I owe the relationship anything. Guilt.
Complacency. Decency?
I want a partner. I don't need a financial manipulator, "a god," as he literally referred to himself in this manner *eyerolllll
They make you think because you invested anything you owe them something in return. You know what!? I gave way too much and I will never do that again. I find that the bitterness and anger will provide a path for my motivation to return. Turning that anger into motivation and that mistrust into confidence in myself is how I get back to living my authentic truth.
THIS WRITTEN BY JORDAN CONNOR CHRISTIE
PERSONAL STATEMENT BY THE ARTIST
