Bad Driver vs. the Norm Curve

I heard this great analogy recently in relation to driving (and dancing). If you are sitting in traffic complaining because everyone else appears to be a bad driver, then maybe the reality is that it’s not them but you. I reflect on this point and the normal curve in relation to myself, my chronic singledom and internet dating.

Here is the normal curve:

Most population statistics lie in a normal distribution with the majority of people around a central point that peters out to both sides. Say this graph above is plotting all-rounded excellence in a partner for me (including things such as life experience, education, confidence, social skills as well as any other things you look for in a partner). On this distribution, the further right you go, the better the qualities of someone at that point are. Around the middle, the people might be good at some things but terrible at others or they might just be mediocre at everything. The people whose qualities put them in those end regions (higher or lower), share the experience with a lot fewer people.

To demonstrate this notion let’s take the graph above but pick a more specific trait, such as intelligence. Say I am where the star is, in the 3^rd standard deviation and on the high side of average (I have spent 10 years of my life learning about human behaviour and working with people so it is only a bit of a stretch). Take a normal population of 100 people for this quality.  If intelligence is distributed in a normal curve, of those 100 people there are only likely to be 2.3% of people (that is 2.3 people) that have same IQ, or a higher one. The problem arises if I would prefer a partner at my own level as this limits my options quite dramatically. So of 100 people where I make up one of those there is only likely to be 1.3 more people of the same caliber.

So am I really up there on that normal curve or am I just a victim of my own bad driving? As a scientist at heart I like to consider the evidence for each theory before ruling anything out (and I realise anecdotal evidence is the worst kind but this is just a blog ;).

Normal Curve

I was watching a video for my professional development recently presented by Tony Attwood and in it (much to my disappointment) he presented a very similar curve (I swear this one was drawn up first!). He started with IQ (intelligence) and then used the same curve to discuss social and emotional competence. He quoted that in the high competence range (much to my disappointment again) women trump men in numbers, similarly, men outnumber females in the very low competence range (I am afraid I don't have a reference for this information). My disappointment stems from the realisation that not only are there few people up this end of the curve, but the other person there is likely to be a female! Now I have no problem with females but it does make it a little harder when a family (a child) is an expected part of the future picture.

What this says about the normal curve for men on social and emotional competence is that the distribution is skewed. The mass of the distribution is concentrated on the left of the figure (lower social and emotional competence). There are even less men in the high end! What that means is that it would not be unusual for me to meet socially incompetent male partners almost all of the time.

I usually get asked on a second date (even if I thought the first was terrible). That has got to be a big one in favour of me and the norm curve!

Bad Driver

I won't lie to you. I am far from perfect. I cry when I see nice things such as an old lady help another old lady across the road. I laugh when people trip or slip over (but can hide it well when I have to). I love cheese, whisky and wine (often to excess). I sing badly and do it in the shower and car frequently. I can be grumpy and down on myself (but am aware enough to let others know this before they walk in the firing line). I have a hard time making big purchases (10 years of being a student solidified). I can spend too much time and energy on work, hobbies (such as writing my blog), friends or dancing. I love doing outdoor physical activity but hate it when it is hard or when there is too much up-hill. I can be too analytical (wanting to talk through things) and I have trouble leaving the therapist at the door.  The reality is that I am not perfect. No one is. 

Conclusion
I guess like everyone, I really hope it is a case of the normal curve in action. I admit that at times I might also be considered to be doing some bad driving but we all do crazy things from time to time. I am not looking for Mr. Perfect. I am looking for someone that fits with my world views and direction. Someone who I feel comfortable and at ease around. I am looking for someone that notices when I am stressed or upset and is able to offer support. Most of all, I am looking for someone I can laugh with. Maybe I am looking in the wrong place and will never find my match online. Maybe I just have to get through the 100 people before I find one who suits me.

Mr. English

On first contact Mr. English was turned down. In fact he actually annoyed me. Through a series of communications however, we ended up chatting on the phone and meeting up in a relatively quick time frame. It all played out as follows.

He had no information on his profile and I made a note of selecting that reply kiss that spelt out "PUT SOMETHING IN YOUR PROFILE". He replied with an email.

Him (first email): "I agree, I do need to update my profile but thought it would be more personal if I sent you an email in the meantime" (he also included his email in case it cost me to reply). 
Me: "Thanks for the email. No stamps needed to reply. I don't tend to reply to people with nothing in their profile as I don't have anything about them to go on."
Him: "Sorry about that, I really should add some improvements to my profile.  Hopefully there will be some more info on there for when you return"
Me: "Well I checked your profile and there doesn't seem to be much more up there!"
Him: "First of all, I apologise for not doing some improvements to my profile.  I had a few unexpected things come up over the weekend.  Unfortunately, I had to help my sister-in-law move some of her mum's furniture as she's just been permanently admitted to a care home.  Sad I know, but I'm sure it's for the best.  So as for my weekend, it was quite emotional for all concerned but hey, it's Monday and hopefully the start to a great week!"

At this point I ended up just chatting with him through email. As it turns out he was a fully qualified mechanical engineer. He had recently moved across from the Northern Territory and was living with family members. He seemed alright. His spelling a grammar couldn't be faulted. He also got a couple of bonus points for being new in town (counts towards answering the 'why is this person single?' question that I ask myself).

He phoned me one night before I was heading off for a short holiday. He no longer had an English accent but asserted that he still had his British wit and sense of humour. I told him not to work himself up too much as there is further to fall. Throughout the call he didn't say anything that made me laugh (wit and humour looking a little unlikely) but there was nothing awkward about the conversation either. Since I was going to be away we decided to meet for breakfast before I took off (this would save me feeling a need to continue communication if there was nothing there).

So I walked in at the time we had planned to meet. I looked around and the cafe was full. No one was looking at the door expectantly. I looked across at one man on his own. He had a coffee in hand. He looked back at me blankly. I wasn't sure if it was him or not (there was only one small and relatively poor photo on his profile). I had told him I was going to be wearing a flower in my hair (as I always do) and assumed he would recognise me from the many photos I had on my profile. Nope. I had to go up and ask if it was him. It was. He looked okay, but not as good as the photo originally suggested.

The first thing I noticed about this guy was his teeth.

They were coffee coloured, crooked and had gaps where teeth were missing. I didn't think it was possible but one of his central incisors was in the middle of his mouth and on a diagonal. No word of a lie here!  I pictured my future kids with faces full or crooked, brown teeth and was immediately put off. Looking past his teeth (or trying to) we moved into conversation while deciding on breakfast.

I asked how the trip in had been this morning (he had travelled in from quite a distance). He then launched into telling me about his radar detector that allows him to speed and avoid speed cameras. He had made it in with record time. I don't think it occurred to him that his reckless driving would be problematic when he was being considered for more than a temporary citizen. He had also been in two motorcycle accidents (might explain the teeth?) and was keen to continue riding once he shipped his bikes across.

The next topic of conversation was a great improvement (sarcasm). He discussed his detest of old people's homes. He mentioned that he didn't like their smell, their dark and dreariness, and all the old people dribbling on their shoulders. I was feeling a little offended by his comments and replied with some positive statement about the potential of retirement homes. He then acknowledged that I worked in health and stopped talking.

I decided to create the next topic of conversation. I picked something safe... television and favourite shows. I don't watch much general TV so I am pretty limited to what others give and recommend. He loved TV. His favourite programs were 'Everybody Loves Raymond' (I hate that show) and a show on clairvoyance and mediums. He lost a number of points here. He proceeded to discuss the uncanny ability of mediums to just "know things that know one else can know". His favourite was John Edward. Now I am pretty open minded, but definitely keep in mind all evidence when considering something like mediums and clairvoyants. I discussed theories around hot an cold readings, as well as the finding that John Edward had been found collecting information about the audience before his shows (hot readings). I brought up the low rate of dead people located by mediums and the vague nature of any information they do provide. My date re-asserted "but there is just some things they know that no one else does". I gave up on this conversation.

Breakfast was nice and I got my coffee. From a distance I couldn't help but notice the bad breath (probably resultant from the rotting teeth) every time he talked in my direction. I moved into a more laid back (and away) position to avoid getting a better whiff. While I was sitting there listening, I was watching this guy start to look more and more like Steve Buscemi. The eyes were similar, bulging slightly with crows feet underneath. The teeth probably played into this image as well.

I am not sure what exactly led to my decision to proceed no further with this guy. It was probably a combination of the breath and teeth, the awkward conversation, the risk-taking and the fact that he was living with family and not holding a job. He refused to take my money and paid for breakfast. I slipped some money into his pocket so that I didn't feel bad.

My final email to him was as follows:
While we still have credit to contact I just wanted to thank you for the other morning. I don't think it will work out between us but best of luck in your search. 

By the way, you still haven't put any information in your profile. You might get a better reply rate if you do. It shows that you are willing to put the energy in to putting yourself out there. It also shows that you have nothing to hide.

I hope all is going well with your family and life. Take care

Maybe it was  a little out of line to continue telling him that he needed to update his profile but I felt it was an important thing. Most women who I have spoken to that also internet date have stated that they do not accept contact from men with no details on their profile. He eventually replied to my email, thanking me and noting that he owed me $10. I told him to keep it for his next date.

Catch Me If You Can

When someone lies to you and steals more from you in a year than you actually earned what do you do? This blog is the follow-up to 'The Fraud' and details my journey, actions and decisions after such a relationship.

After my relationship with Stephen ended I found out a whole bunch of information about him. I found out that he had remained active on internet dating sites (at least two) throughout most of the relationship, he had bought my "diamond" cubic zirconium engagement ring on my credit card (at least it was cheap), at least four other women had been equally conned and scammed by him and he had been investigated for business fraud but no conclusion had been drawn on this. He also lied and concealed facts and information in his attempts to get me back.

In attempting to get me back Stephen promised a number of times both face-to-face and over email that he would pay all the money back. This was so I could see that he is changing for the better. I saw a bit of money. As expected, Stephen eventually stopped paying (I say eventually, it was actually after 3 weeks at about the same time he started dating a friend of a friend of mine). After this point I just heard one lie and excuse after another. I got sick of it pretty quickly. Being friendly and courteous was achieving nothing.

At this point I informed him that I was being forced to take alternative action. I followed through on my threats. I emailed every internet dating site on the first 6 pages of a google search. I told them his name, what he did, and the risks to their customers if he was on their site. A few sites responded, including one that he was a member on. The other site he was on said they couldn't help. I also took it to the police.

As it turns out, if someone steals from you and then says they will pay you back, the police can do NOTHING. That's right, nothing. This handy little fact is something that would have been nice to know before pegging my hopes on the law to uphold justice. It was a crushing moment when I was informed that they couldn't help. So what was left? Well, the only other avenue left to me was through the civil courts. So that is where I took it!

I decided to go for two things. The first was a restraining order prohibiting him to threaten me. As this is Stephen's way of proving his untruths (threatening until others back down) I felt it necessary to prevent this. He had been financially and psychologically abusing me and I wanted to prevent any more of it occurring. I also wanted a fail safe in case he did do something. This would protect me but also result in him committing a chargeable offence in the eyes of the law.

The other thing I went for was my money. I collected and printed up all my bank statements and email exchanges with Stephen. I sought advice and I prepared. I won by default (he never contested it) which means I never had to represent myself as planned, but I was ready for it all anyway. Unfortunately it is never that easy though. In the court's eyes you can be found right and the other wrong but that is only one part of the problem. The biggest issue was that each time Stephen needed to be served the new paperwork.

The first lot of paperwork was easy. I knew where he worked, a major supermarket chain where he stacks shelves. There are a number of occasions where I pictured (in my head) walking up behind him and shoving his head into the dairy cabinet. I guess that is just a symbol of how much anger I had found for Stephen. I am not that violent in real life. Serving the first lot of papers was a nice compromise by me. As I handed Stephen the papers (while he was at work), I stated "you have just been served!". I felt pretty cool doing it too.

The next part of the process was trying to get my money back. This was a few months down the track. I knew where he worked so that was all fine but I needed someone else to serve him more papers.... this was the part that held things up. I was advised that it was better to send papers by registered post or have someone else serve my ex-fiance in relation to getting money (the garnishee paperwork). I tried posting the paperwork to Stephen by registered post. As I should have expected, he never picked up the letter. For starters he never carries his wallet or ID on him. He would have needed these to get his mail. The letter was returned to me a few weeks later.

I hired a process server.

My process server/PI was on the case... for months and months and months! I am not sure if Stephen is just elusive or the process server had really bad timing but it started getting ridiculous. After a couple more months I decided to take matters back into my own hands. What I did was called in to his work at every opportunity. I would do my shopping and hope for the day I happened to bump into him again. I was beginning to think he had moved on and there was no hope. I never saw him and neither did my process server. Then came the day.

The day.
It was just a regular day in the life of me. I had gone to work, gone to the gym, and I was pissed off because a new bill had to be paid. At this point in my life most expenses reminded me of the money that had been stolen from me and of how angry I was at Stephen. So in order to self-soothe my temper, I went shopping. I bought a few new clothes on clearance (a good bargain always helps cheer me up a bit) and called into Coles to get a few food items to indulge in later. I had made it around the whole store and was on my way out when he walked past me. This was it. I felt the physiological effects of the adrenalin that went storming around my body. My hands became shaky, my heart racing. I was ready for this. My day had just gone from dull to golden.

As soon as I could find the number in my phone I phoned up my process server. We spoke in code, in case Stephen was listening to  me (and let's face it, it is fun to talk this way). My process server was there in under 15 minutes. I stood outside the store and I watched. Similar to a previous scene that I had been involved in, the paperwork was handed to Stephen. I am not sure whether or not Stephen was told he had just been served (I had thrown that in for dramatic effect only) but it was still a beautiful moment. This moment, when Stephen was served the garnishee paperwork is the one point in this journey where I finally felt I had succeeded. The battle was finally over for me. I had won.

I shared a bonding moment with my process server out the front of the store (we hugged, we shook hands and we rejoiced in the victory. It was beautiful) and then went about the rest of my life.

Recovery
It was a tough 12 months of fighting. I was earning a full time wage but still living like a student. I was single and mourning the loss of a future I had been wanting and holding on to (to the point that I had failed to see the reality of the situation). My friends were a huge source of strength at this time. My friends listened to me talk through the process, heard out my disappointments and congratulated my wins. A notable mention is one friend who was there to give me a congratulatory hug every time I won or achieved a part of the court process or served some papers. Thanks Bryce. Those hugs meant a lot to me and I still think about the moments and smile.

In the other parts of my life I poured my time and energy into my work. It was a good distraction. In doing so I managed to stumble along, clear my debts and wipe the slate clean.

At the end of this time I finally saw some money from Stephen too. At about the 12 month point, 1 year since finding my accounts overdrawn and cleared out by Stephen, I was seeing some of it returned. I got an initial lump sum, and I continue to get a monthly payment equalling 20% of his pay, garnished before he has chance to even see it. I will continue getting this money until he resigns or skips town. It isn't much but it is a dollar that he doesn't have to help him manufacture the next lie and rip off the next person. It is a dollar back in my pocket that he stole from me, under the guise of love and trust.

 

I re-commenced internet dating. I am a little warier and a little wiser these days and I listen to my gut instinct more than ever but I still trust people. I stand my ground a little firmer and will more quickly  say goodbye to someone when things aren't right. I have let go of the future I was so desperate for and opened up a new direction to focus on. My aim now is to get some experience and then volunteer my clinical skills overseas. It is achievable. If someone comes along in the meantime that may all change but I am no longer waiting around for it to happen. I am in control of my life and I am happy.




Note:
Since writing this blog post friends bumped into him, finding out that he was about to move to QLD with his new fiance. He is on the move again, isolating his partner from her friends and family, and creating hopes of a happily ever after that is built on deception and lies. It was only a matter of time. I am assuming the engagement is only recent because his profile was still active (with recent visits) on an internet dating site until a month or so ago. My friends attempted to get word to Stephen's new fiance to inform her of the truth about him (through the grapevine). It is the last thing I have in my power that can actually make a difference. I hope she at least has the power to make a fully informed decision now!

The Fraud

This blog is an important one, not just for me but for anyone out there who is also internet dating. It is the story of a person I fell in love with and out of love with. Of a man who fooled me and others in my life. A man who made me question my life, my values and how strongly I stand by them. A story of a conman who uses 'love' and 'business' to steal from others. This is the blog about a man called Stephen Mellor, born in the UK in the later 70s and currently living in Australia.

Setting the Scene
Around the time that I met Stephen there were some big things happening for me in my life. I was working casually as a support worker, spending a lot of hours on my thesis and getting experience at the University Clinic. My supervisor at the clinic was making my life hell (later having her contract discontinued due to inappropriate professional practices) and my housemate/good friend had gone travelling overseas. I had put on weight due to all of the study I was doing and I was feeling disconnected from the people in my life. I was feeling pretty low all round, and in fact, the lowest I have felt since moving interstate. I was in a bad way and desperate for anything to pull me out of it.

First Contact
Stephen first contacted me through the dating site early on in my internet dating life. He was charming and witty, and most of all he made me laugh. I hadn't laughed in a long time. It was really nice. We emailed, talked on the phone and eventually decided to meet up. His name was 'BritishCharmer' online. He was the first internet dating person that I was really excited to meet.

We were planning to meet up on a Saturday. The time and date was set. An hour before we were supposed to meet up he cancelled on me. He said that he had been delayed because of work and that it had gotten on top of him. We decided to re-schedule for the next day. He said he would give me a call in the morning and let me know what we would be doing. He didn't call. At 4pm I sent him a text message telling him not to bother. I asserted that I was not going to be stuffed around and if he couldn't get his act together to do what he said he would, I wasn't interested. I didn't hear from him again.

Life went on. I continued internet dating, all the while thinking of how I excited I had been to meet "BritishCharmer" and how unappealing most other dates were becoming. Months went by. No one was grabbing my attention. Everyone seemed bland and uninteresting (or if they were interesting it certainly wasn't in a good way). Following a run of dates including 'The Choker' I decided to give up on internet dating and I closed my account down.

Physical Contact
Two weeks after closing my account I got a phone call. It was Stephen on the phone. He was calling to apologise for stuffing me around. He said that he had gone away and sorted himself out, and felt the time was right to contact me again. He said that he had looked for me online but that my profile was no longer up. He stated that if I wasn't already snatched up by Prince Charming, he would love to take me out to make amends. I figured 'what the heck, I will at least get lunch out of him' (this was before "what the heck" was proving to be a bad omen) and I decided to give him a chance.

We met up for a coffee and then we went bowling.  He was  interesting, stylish, funny and different. He was a businessman who was starting his own design company. We talked and laughed the whole time. The hours and hours ticked by without me even noticing.  He was everything I ever thought I wanted and more. I was well and truly swept away. I let myself go with the moment.

As the days went on and on, he wined and he dined me. I felt like the luckiest woman in whole world. He treated me like a princess. He made me feel sexy and intelligent, powerful and feminine all at the same time. I had never felt this way before, and coming out from the dark hole that my life had become, I enjoyed every part of it. I thought I was in love.

As the months went on we had a tiff from time to time but nothing big enough to call it end game. I would feel uneasy about things every now and then but was always able to dismiss these feelings as nothing. We moved in together. We also started looking for somewhere to buy. We put in offers and eventually decided to build on a block of land. I have never owned my own place and was so excited.

After 12 months he proposed to me. He said he had never loved anyone so much or asked anyone to marry him before. He said that there was no one else in the world like me and he wanted this to last forever. I had never been asked if I wanted to marry someone before. I wanted that part of my life to happen. I wanted to feel connected to someone in a meaningful way. I wanted a partner and a family. I wanted to feel like I had a home and something to come home to and although I wasn't aware of what I was really getting into, I said yes.

Changing Times

You know when you live with someone, you don't notice them put on or lose weight because you see them every day. If you only see them once a month it is a different story. You notice the rounding face or the protruding cheek bones. That is how this all played out. A frog in a pot of water, slowly boiling.

I had completed the course-work component of my Masters and it was time to focus on my thesis. I did this. I would get up in the morning, pull out my laptop and sit all day, until I could do no more. The only exception to this was on a Wednesday night, where I would go out swing dancing. Stephen didn't like this very much. He always came along. He said that he was going to spend all of my "time off" with me because he was missing me. I think it was more to keep an eye on me in the end rather than because he actually wanted to dance or be there. It annoyed me but I managed and tolerated it. I couldn't fault him too much on wanting to spend time with me.

Time Pressure
He began complaining that everything wasn't fair on him. He demanded my time and was never happy with any I gave him. I compromised, offering him 1 hour of my precious thesis time per day. I still made breakfast (usually eggs and bacon), lunch and dinner for both of us. He didn't cook. He would come in and eat with me, then declare that it was not fair that I was counting eating time in the hour. I was often thinking that it would be much easier without a partner. I obviously didn't listen to this though. I tried to ignore it, pouring my time and energy into my thesis.

It wasn't bad enough that Stephen was on my back, his parents were as well. They wanted us to go over for dinner once a week. Once a week was more than I wanted to sacrifice. I went a few times. We got there, we were served some slop on the plate and then everyone sat around watching TV. The food was always the same - sausages, frozen veggies drowned in a pot of water, half a kilo of mashed potato and some gravy. I anxiously spent my time thinking about all the thesis I could probably be doing (or could be sitting at home procrastinating about).

Money Matters
It was halfway through my thesis when finances got out of control. My credit card maxed out. I couldn't believe it. If there is one thing I have never let go, it is my handle on money. I had not been working as I was spending most of my time working on my thesis and on Stephen. It wasn't a huge limit so I figured I had been overly distracted by my studies. He offered to take care of it for me so that I didn't have to worry about it while I was stressed about my thesis. He said his business could make the payments. I let him (and why wouldn't I? I trusted him).

Even though he was "taking care of it" I started to get calls from the bank again. Every time we would fight. He would have a reason for why it hadn't been done. He would say that he forgot or that he was waiting on money from a job. My parents had offered me a gift as an engagement/wedding present. They gave me some money. I requested putting it on the credit card to bring down the repayments to something manageable. They did. It took some of the stress off the situation. I didn't hear from the bank for a while.

Trouble Brewing
I took time out from the stress of my thesis and finances every now and then, catching up with friends. Stephen hated it. One of my friends lived around the corner and was a sanctuary when I needed to leave the house. She patiently listened to me complain about all of this stressful things in my life, especially Stephen. It was what I needed. I valued this time like no other. I needed it to process the things happening to me. Stephen would always make a fuss about it. He would call my female friends "trouble maker" and "the devil" and say they were trying to split us up. Alternatively if I was going out to spend time with a male he would say to me that they want me and that he couldn't trust them. Every time I would make it clear to him (in as calm a tone as I could manage at the time) that I was not willing to give up my friends. Every time we fought about it. We fought a lot. I felt sorry for the neighbours.

It didn't matter what I said. He never listened or acknowledged my needs and wants. He would argue that it was not fair that he only got an hour and I would go out for a few with a friend. I went anyway. I needed to. In saying that, I didn't see as many friends at the time, or nearly as frequently as I usually do. It wasn't worth the energy fighting about it all of the time. He would go through my phone as well, always commenting on any texts I received, or any that I sent to others. I was becoming more and more isolated.

At this point I wasn't looking at ending the relationship. I had committed to trying to make it work. I wasn't willing to give up yet. Not until I had done all I could. We had plans, dreams and promises to keep.

I tried to focus on the positive. I made an effort to make it all work. I tried writing down the things we liked about each other, as well as the things we were looking forward to. I spent hours writing down the things we were struggling with, to try and bridge the gap of understanding between us. We also worked on swing dancing moves as something positive to do together.

He became more and more insecure and anxious. He would always point out that I had made a commitment to him and to us. He would ask me if my word meant anything. When he didn't like what I was saying (which was most of the time) he would say that I was purposely speaking in "psychology language" and that he didn't understand it. Every time I would patiently try to explain it differently and got the same response from him. I couldn't win. At this point he was no longer my superhero, bringing me to life. I was just trying to stop us... stop me from drowning.

Some time between a point of bad and worse, I finished my thesis and Stephen had managed to take over my life. I was isolated, had minimal access to my car (and when I did there was no petrol), my phone and my life. We never had money and he always had an excuse for why business was slow (but would assure me it will pick up in no time).  He didn't believe in going to bed during a fight, so he would shake me in the bed to keep me awake (until I agreed with him and I could finally sleep). I wasn't sleeping because we fought all the time. I was so tired.

At this point he never left me alone. Even in the shower I had no space to myself. He would get upset if I didn't want him there and would stand outside the door and talk to me. He would do his martial arts moves towards me and around the house. I can't decide whether it was to show me that he could take control or to help with his insecurities and anxieties. It was probably both. He would stand in my way and prevent me leaving a room. When fighting he would try and force a hug on me. I would push his hands away and ask for space but he wouldn't give it. It got to the point that I would, in colourful language, tell him to back off and leave me alone. He shoved me back once. Twice he even pinned me down, refusing to let me go. I hated it and him! I let him know that if he ever did it to me again we were over. I couldn't understand how I could hate someone that I was in love with.

By this point I honestly didn't realise how far my head was under the water. Friends would comment that Stephen was being weird all the time. He was. He was suspicious of everyone and everything. He assumed most things were an attack against him. He never gave me a moment to myself, especially if anyone else was around. I was exhausted. I spent most of my time dissociated. I heard myself saying things like "I feel like I am being chained up and kept on a leash" but the words didn't connect with thoughts and actions. They were separate to me. I kept telling him to leave, that if he wanted someone to panter to his every need than she is somewhere and someone else. I had nowhere else to go, or at least I didn't feel like I had anywhere. For quite a while I had no energy to do anything else. I could only hope that he would leave.

Realisation

It wasn't until I went to a friends wedding interstate that I realised where things were at. I watched them, so happy and safe together. I looked at Stephen and I and realised it wasn't there for us. I wasn't in love with him. I was only barely tolerating him. He was a source of distress and anxiety for me, not safety and calm. I made a comment to Stephen as I realised this, stating that we weren't a rock. I said (in a somewhat intoxicated disposition) that I needed us to be like my marrying friends before I married him. He must have realised it was ending. He stayed in bed late and when he did get up he acted like a child. He refused to eat or talk with anyone for the rest of the trip. We were staying at my parents place. It was embarrassing.

My mum took one look at me when she saw me and in her first chance to chat with me alone she broached the subject. She asked me where my smile had gone. She asked me where her daughter had gone. It was enough. I realised it was NEVER going to happen with Stephen. I had tried as much as I could and I could try no more. I could finally see how far we'd fallen and it was time to cut the rope and save myself.

The Break-Up
The following weekend I went away to a friend's place in a different part of the state. Stephen insisted on coming with me but I sternly said no. I had used "no" with Stephen very often and he usually didn't let it fly. I made sure it did this time.

It was Saturday morning and I was drinking tea with my friend, talking through my decision to leave Stephen. This friend, Katy, is always available to listen. She has a knack of making things seem better or more manageable, at least for a while. She can make me laugh when I am crying, and make me cry with laughter. I have never met anyone else like her. This is why I had gone there. For respite. For safety. To escape. There was no other place I wanted and needed to be.

A segment on Sexually Transmitted Debt was on the Morning Show in the background. I decided to check my credit cards (knowing there would be a little bit of debt there but not too much). I had let things slide with all the stress that had been on me and thought it a good time to reassess my situation. When I opened my online accounts I realised what was going on.  Stephen had been cash advancing money off my card since it first maxed out. He had taken my trust and used it against me. I went into shock. Katy took over.

 

Stephen had left me with debt larger than I had brought in as total income that year. Within 14 days of my parents putting my engagement/wedding money on there, he had cash advanced it straight off again. I couldn't believe it at first. I really couldn't. I couldn't even decide whether it was bad or not for him to have done it. I was reeling. Katy dragged me out of the house. We went to the police and to Legal Aide. We sought advice on what to do and where to go. I didn't take much in but the thing that was driven home was that he was a perpertrator, and I the victim. It started sinking in. Katy didn't make me laugh that day. Instead, she sat with me while I cried. It was all that I needed.

Katy and her partner put on a 'Christmas in July'. We ate and we drank. I don't know how I did  it (no doubt it involved the alcoholic beverages) but for that night I was merry. It was the last time I felt that way for many months to come.

Stephen had left by the time I returned. Although I had not said anything, he had assumed I'd found out about him. I guess he knew it was all coming. Everything was still in the unit we were renting. Three of my friends came around the minute I saught their help. I went from feeling alone to realising how many people had my back. They helped me pack up my life, everything I owned and had known. I am still so thankful.

I loaded up our cars and moved in with another friend, Rachel. Without hesitation she offered me a bed and a home to shelter me from the worst of the storm. I stayed with her while I picked up the pieces of my life.  Every night she listened to me discuss and process my progress and the small footsteps I was making forward. It is these moments that helped me to continue moving. I found my own place a month or so later. She never asked for a dollar off me and wouldn't have taken it, even if I had forced her.

Over time I realised that he had been emotionally and financially abusing me for months and months. He had been manipulating, threatening, undermining and lying. He justified his behaviour and lied to himself so much that to him there were no lies. While I had been trying to make us work, trying to repair our relationship, he had been ripping it apart.

In the conversations that followed, Stephen justified all of his actions. Once he got no where with that he started to apologise. He promised to change. He promised to pay all of the money back. I heard him out, believing nothing. I had no feelings for him anymore, I just wanted the debt gone. I kept it civil, carefully wording any comment or email, even as he continued to try and manipulate the situation back to some advantage. I made it clear that if he didn't pay, I would pursue other ways to get the money. He gave some money back to prove he would. I got money for 3 weeks in a row before it stopped. After that I only got lies.

Aftermath

After all of this happened I spent a long time thinking about Stephen and what he had done to me. At first I was not angry. I was looking to understand how it had happened and how I had let it. I pitied him. Here is a sad and delusional man who wants nothing more than his happy ending. He can't see that he sets himself on fire and destroys his own life, over and over again. Every time he does this he has to carry it with him. He knows what he has done. He has to face it every time the truth is uncovered. He has to sleep with it at night, every night, for the rest of his life.

I was coping but it wavered at times. It didn't help when people asked me "you work with people, shouldn't you have known or seen it coming?". There is a lot of judgement and underlying assumption to a comment like this. These comments stung. I already felt ashamed of my decisions, of the choices I'd made. I was angry at myself for not listening to my instincts. I was angry at myself for being swept away in the fantasy that I too could have a life with love and a family warming my home. I felt stupid for all of the times I tried to make the relationship work out of 'commitment'. I felt stupid for believing all of the lies, for trusting him. I had let myself down. I didn't need judgement from my friends. What I needed was their patience, love and support. I did get it from my closest friends and with this I began to find my anger. I channelled it, using it to drive me forward.

Reflection

I still get angry about what Stephen did to me and upset that it all happened. I didn't cry much in the aftermath. I focussed on collecting the pieces and keeping my life going. As I wrote this blog I allowed myself some time to finally do that. 

Looking back on how it all ended, I can't believe how far I let things slide. I like to think of myself as an assertive and intelligent woman. I stand my ground when I feel I am right and I will take a stand when it is needed. I don't allow others to treat me poorly and have no trouble doing things alone if I have to. I got so lost. It is hard to step away and look at your situation when you are engulfed by it.  I had continued to fight, but it is hard to focus energy when you are facing battles on all fronts.

What makes me the angriest is that he is still out there. He is still doing this. He continues to scam, steal, lie and justify it to himself as if it is okay to do this. He has done this to other women, leaving them in debt, disillusioned, as single mothers and he continues to live his life as if he never destroyed anyone elses. He gets away with it. What's more is that Stephen isn't the only person like this out there. There are others that do this too. People that live off the exploitation of others. They are not evil. They do not stand out. They are well rehearsed and practised in their art and the destruction they leave behind.

For those people out there with an open heart and trusting nature, ALWAYS follow your instincts! You never have to stay in a bad relationship no matter how much you have committed to. Continue to connect with friends and family. Keep up the supports in your life. It is not easy. If things are at their worst, remember that it is much easier to do things alone than to be drowned by your partner.

The debt hung over my head for some time. Every time I received a bill or thought about buying my own place I was reminded of what had happened. I am glad that I fought to keep my friends in my life, regardless of how much Stephen attempted to isolate me. Without my friends I would have been lost. I am so glad and thankful that I wasn't alone. It was all hard enough already.

I still hear of him and see him in the street or in the supermarket. Every time my blood boils but I am biding my time.  I am putting my trust in the idea that he will get what he deserves.  He will set his life and dreams on fire and be left clutching only ashes. He will be the destruction of his own happiness.

The Gym

I always find it amazing how many men put 'the gym' (numerous times) as a regular activity, sport and pass-time on their profile. When I am at the gym I often spend most of my spare energy (that which is not being used on exercise) screening out other people and avoiding eye contact. When I have paid attention I always find the experience interesting to say the least. 

I mean sure, a fit and healthy male is fantastic... I am just not convinced the people I see at the gym fall into this category. I don't know about all gyms, but the one I go to has four sorts of men attending (okay 5 if you include a small miscellaneous category). These include 'The Oldies', 'The Professionals', 'The Tradies' and 'The Roiders'.

Setting the scene

My gym is one of those low budget chain gyms where you pay a low fee per week and get unlimited access to cardio and weight machines. There are no classes, no child care facilities, 2 showers and minimal staff. There is a TV showing the latest music clips on each of the 4 walls (except during the olympics or something else such as a football match where 2 screens play this instead) and a few gym mats lying around for floor work.

As for me, I am one of those people that goes red at the first sign of exercise. My heart rate shoots up quickly (it scared me the first time I used a heart rate monitor) and even if not huffing and puffing I certainly show signs of unattractive sweaty flushing. I was privileged as a child in primary school to be called 'beetroot' and 'tomato face' every time I had to participate in a sport (I also used to blush dramatically when lying or embarrassed but luckily high school trained me out of the worst of it). Consequently I have never been a huge fan of exercising, at least not in front of others. I prefer to go to the gym when it is quiet. I go first thing in the morning before work, but have been known to go during the day, the afternoon and across the weekend. So what about those men?

The Oldies

These are the older guys who have probably been told to attend the gym by their GP (to increase vitality or reduce the risk or impact of diabetes). These guys usually come in during the day or in the late morning. They are most likely retired or working part time. They work out (but never too hard) and they leave. These guys are a little too old for me.

The Professionals

The second type are the professionals. These guys pop in directly before or after work, sometimes with their partners. They arrive or leave in a suit. They are fit and healthy and don't hang around. They are not interested in socialising at the gym or spending any more time than necessary. These guys are my type but the wedding band that usually accompanies them identifies them as 'already taken'.

The Tradies

These guys can be sporadic in their gym use. They are often wearing old clothes or inappropriate combinations (whatever clothes they can find on the day,e.g. trade pants and boots). These guys like weights and can often be found sitting around with The Roiders (see below).

The Roiders

The Roiders are the guys with arms that are far too big for their body. They are usually at the gym in the afternoon from around 4pm. They huff, grunt and moan as they flex their muscles for each other and check themselves out in the mirror. (I watched a guy pose in front of the mirror for 10 minutes once... he flexed and admired himself from every angle, doing all but kissing his own muscles. He was so engaged with himself he didn't notice me looking!). They sit around and watch each other without much conversation and when they finish, they continue to sit around the gym for another hour or so. Now I am not saying that these guys actually take steroids but if they did some of the common side effects include permanent liver damage, acne, aggressiveness, heart problems, infertility and diabetes. None of these things (especially when self-inflicted) are appealing in a partner.

A side note on proportion
I like a man who looks relatively normal. My preferences lean towards healthier males who are not too large or too skinny. I don't mind a bit of tub but just not too much of it. In all my years I have never thought to myself 'Wow, what big muscles he has, I must get me some of that' or 'Geeze that guy looks hot with those extra large arms on his small frame'.

What I have thought is "I wonder if you can see how odd you look with those oversized arms", "Can you see yourself?!" or "I bet it is expensive to get shirts to fit you properly with those ridiculous arms". I guess muscles aren't my thing.

So maybe my gym isn't the usual gym experience out there. Unfortunately my experience leads me to view 'the gym' when written in profiles as something that is not all that desirable. I don't want someone who is pumped up or who enjoys spending hours and hours in a sweat lab (I just don't enjoy the gym that much). Looks and physical fitness all fade. All it takes is a sports injury or a broken leg. When this happens I just hope these guys have something else to replace the gym with.

In summary I don't see the gym as a great 'interest', a place to pick up, or a place to hang out. If someone is spending that much time working on their physique, what things in life are they sacrificing in its place?

Guy From the Train

During a quiet spot for internet dating I was on a trip interstate and was drawn into conversation by a man on the train. At the end of the trip he gave me his email. At the time I took it because I was only half following what he was saying. It was noisy on the train, had been a big day and I was on my way to an event in the city. I thought he was selling mini-motors for push bikes and at the time I was looking into buying one to make the last hill home more pleasant. Now this guy technically isn't an internet date, but the further contact with him happened because of my internet dating experiences at the time.

So I returned home with his email and wrote to him. It was just a simple message addressed to 'Guy from the Train'. I stated that I had made it home safely and was now looking forward the photos of his bike parts that he was talking about. He wrote back. His subject was 'In from the rain'. It was clear from his first email that he was not just trying to sell me something (in fact he wasn't selling anything at all). The email was filled with information about his day and the things going on in his life. It was very reminiscent of an internet dating email. He was interesting and I was a little over internet dating experiences at the time so I figured 'what the heck' (a line I should apparently be a lot more cautious of). We continued exchanging emails, each time he changed his subject title to rhyme with 'guy from the train'.

I was heading back to the state that I had met him to see my family. I arranged with the guy from the train to meet up. We did. He met me at a train station. He went straight in for the kiss (which I found a little odd as we had not defined what we were and could easily just be 'pen pals'). The meeting became a brief holiday fling.

On the first day (just after meeting at the train station) he called past his parents to buy some of their honey and introduced me to them. I politely engaged in conversation until I was able to get him to notice that I wanted to leave. They were lovely people who wanted to stuff us with food and send us away with bags of fruit. He later told me that they had been praying for me to come into his life... Awkward.

He came out and visited me while I was at my parents. We went swimming, bike riding, shopping, shared lunch and dinner and enjoyed each others company. Most activities were pleasurable and it was nice to have no pressure to do anything or be anywhere. The only thing that was bugging me at this point was his need to stop whenever talking. Even this was not too much of a problem until we actually went for a long walk along the beach.

Picture this. Two people holding hands along the beach. Enjoying the long empty dunes and wild waves. Peaceful, right? Wrong! It wasn't for me! Every time he wanted to say something... anything, he would stop. He would wait until I had stopped too, and made eye contact before continuing. At first this was fine. I took a number of approaches to the situation. I pointed it out to him. That made no change. I kept walking, dragging him with me. That worked... minimally. By the end of the 3 hour walk I was sick of the energy I needed to put into him, and was fast developing a stress twitch in my eye!

As I got to know the guy from the train, I learnt more and more about him. He spent a long time telling me how successful he had been. He told me of the money he had made and lost through stocks, from owning land and business. He told me about his current work designing, and how it will make him rich. He told me of the profit his friends had made on his advice and of the people he had met over his years. He was odd but interesting and I was enjoying his interest in me, even if the conversational topics were ultimately about money.

I spent time with my family in the middle of my holidays and then went to stay with him the last two nights before flying home. He picked me up from my parents and we drove off into the distance.

The car trip was a bit of an issue. The car itself was lovely. It was a little old, but ran well and had a soft top. The car was not the problem though, it was his driving. Every time he spoke he would let go of the steering wheel and look at me, using both hands in his expression! It freaked me out. I probably left it too long and instead of raising the subject unemotionally, I snapped at him. I asked sternly that he keep at least one hand on the wheel, and an eye on the road at all times. The mood darkened a little.

His place
When I saw his place, what I saw was not too promising. He rented a lovely unit on the (swampy) waterfront near where I used to live. He had some possessions, but only few. Most things were second hand. The cupboard was mostly empty and it was obvious that in general, no one else came there. He owned no bottle opener, enough cutlery for one, one plate, one bowl, and a few glasses. This was not an entertaining home. It was the sad and depressing place that this man chose to live in, alone. There was no evidence to support his claims of success. There was no evidence of too many friends in his life either.

After a more recent incident with a fraudulent ex-partner of mine, I was very put off by the lack of consistency in his story and his actual life. I was feeling uneasy and I trusted that feeling more than I did his stories. This guy offered no security, didn't appear to have achieved much or maintained anything he had. So I had the conversation with the guy from the train. I let him know that maybe it wasn't me that his parents were praying for, and that it had been nice but that was all.

He cried. It was awkward. I put a hand on his back and tried to sympathise. He continued to cry... For 20 minutes! A lot went through me head at this time. I thought about my parents, and how nice it would have been to spend an extra day with them. I thought about work and what I had to get back to at home. I focussed on the music playing on the radio. All the while I was resting a hand on his back, stiff and lifeless. I guess he eventually picked up on it. He then got up angrily and started carrying on about being a "silly man". That was a little more awkward and I just sat and let him go for it. I didn't strictly agree with him but did highlight that we had only known each other in person for 7 days, 2 days of which we didn't see each other... I don't think that helped the situation.

He decided that the weather was too warm to drive to the airport so he drove me to the train station instead. I told him I wanted to take the train on my own. He didn't listen. I wanted to stare blankly at the scenery I had watched so many times before. He wanted to talk. I was glad to reach the end of that train ride and say goodbye. I was exhausted.

When I returned home I wrote him another email. I thanked him for his time and wished him all the best. I haven't heard from him again, but on last email, he had gone out and bought a dinner set and some cutlery and was inviting some people over for dinner. Maybe I was what his parents were praying for after all.