Guest Post: Friends with Myself

Here’s another great post from my friend Carole Blair. To whom I am forever forgetting to call back! (So if any of you others out there think I’m avoiding you, I’m not.  I just am horrible at returning calls.)

IN FACT! I once told someone I’d call them back in a half hour, and they might still be waiting on that call… I might need to do that now.

Anyway, Enjoy the story.



I don’t know what hurts more, that my rib is fractured (although it hurts less each day), or that he fractured it. It’s nearly two weeks later, and I alternate between crying for all the unanswered questions and laughing that I’m not married to him and trapped.


This morning I thought about hearts and bodies. People say, “Have a heart,” which I take to mean, “Be sympathetic/empathetic/give a darn.” That’s what I’d tell him. I knew he had no romantic feelings for me.


A big “thank you!” and a hug to Madison for letting me share here. The morning after I posted, I had a smile on my face and in my heart, knowing I’m not alone. Interestingly, while looking through email from past months, I found a thread that detailed his behavior towards me and, I presume, the path to what recently happened.


How many times did I have to cry about something he said or did? Why did I overlook conversations with warning signs? Had a friend been describing a man she knew and liked, I’d have told her he’s no good and to drop him.


The month of May was telling. He criticized me under the guise of “helping,” i.e. wanting to change me to please him and telling me it’s helpful to me. He was critical of my appearance, clothes, etc. Hurt people hurt people. I have to keep repeating this to myself.


Friends asked why we’re never seen in public together, even for a soda. Once he took me for ice cream to a place far from his neighborhood, and nowhere near mine. He’s made numerous broken promises to go to dinner. While I have male friends, good friends, who don’t take me out, this is uncomfortable.


Two weeks later, I was crying in my computer, looking back and really seeing that the man I thought was a “friend” has been trying to change me. We had a huge argument one night, and I slammed his screen door. I then went back so I could give him his sweater — I don’t ever want to wear his clothes again — and apologized for slamming the door.


What started it? I wanted to discuss something, and he didn’t. To deflect, he told me I’m belaboring it, and mocked me by saying, “I’ll read about this in your blog tomorrow, right?” I’m disappointed that his true colors are not what he showed me during the past year. The bad side is showing itself too many times.


It wasn’t the first time I wanted to talk about something, and he avoided the subject.


The following month was Father’s Day. I got him a gift certificate for a local nail place, thinking it would make him feel better to get his nails done, or get a massage. Other men did so their hands looked nice for business clients. “Thank you, you’ve done so much for me, however, it’s not my thing, and if I don’t use it in a few weeks, I’ll give it back to you,” he said. I’d have been happy with simply “thank you.”


Stunned, I called him that night. When he called back, I planned to tell him a gift is from the heart, it’s not to be returned. Instead I managed one sentence because he jumped in with, “I’ll mail it back you.” Unprepared with a comeback line for the second time, I said no. He said, “Not a problem,” and hung up. I cried over hot chocolate.


I came to the conclusion that he’s an N (narcissistic) personality and is abusive. When the discussion got to be too much, the topic to close for comfort, he cleverly turned it around and projected blame onto another person (me) to self-protect. Friends don’t do that to friends. I’m starting to be better friends with myself.

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