Shark Cage

Sitting in a beige chair listening to a lady in her mid 50s talk about the "shark cage" analogy isn't what I expected to be doing on a Sunday morning. My Sundays were once filled with brunches and adventures, not trying to put together the mess that I now call my life.

At 19, I saw my life going differently. Had you asked me 6 months ago where I saw myself, you bet my answer would be on a cruise or asleep on a beach somewhere in Greece. Instead, I sit here wishing I’d never met Blaine.

Blaine was a guy who I'd met at work. We’d worked together for a short time before overstepping that ethical boundary of mixing business with pleasure. I was an admin assistant and he was transferred to our job site as a skilled labourer during our peak season. He’d go out of his way each morning to strike up a conversation. I don’t know if I was just naive or plain stupid, but I fell for his bullshit.

There were so many red lights and warning signs, I just kept ignoring them. I’d confuse possession with caring, dominance with safety and control with love. Oh, what a fucking mess this has turned into.

“The shark enters the pub and begins hunting. He tests the waters and sees how dominant he can be, he uses it as a test to pick his prey. Decides everything from drinks to how the night ends, if she allows it all, he knows she’s vulnerable”

Listening to this box dyed blonde explain to me that I’m vulnerable isn’t empowering me. I just wish she’d shut up. The chairs, the chairs are beige. Think about how damn boring those chairs are Emily. You can do this, you just need to not think of him. Just get through this class without thinking about the signs, the signs you had missed. She just won’t shut up, I can’t not think of it.

“What do sharks look like? Well firstly, they’ll want control over you and your relationship. Your friends, family and other important people in your life are a threat to them”

My best friend doesn’t talk to me anymore. We would hang out daily, him, me and his girlfriend. We’d do everything together, in fact, he was the one who encouraged me to go on a date with Blaine in the first place. James was even there on our first date, he even tagged along to the next few after that but it soon stopped. James barely made eye contact with me anymore and Blaine started to act weird when I mentioned his name.

“You know, my sister finds it weird you hang with another male so often. Your mine, not his. You both need to respect me if you want this relationship to work” then I complied. Once my friends were eliminated he then moved in on my family. Well, the little family I had.

It was just me, mum, my older sister who’d moved out and then my stepdad. After drinking with Anthony, my replacement father one night, Blaine got aggressive and it ended up in a brawl. Glass was smashed, punches were thrown and tears were shed. They probably would have killed each other that night if I hadn’t convinced Blaine to get in my car.

That should have been grounds for me to cease all contact there and then but I was scared. “I only fought him for you. I can’t believe you’d leave me when I was protecting you, you ungrateful little bitch” he’d say. “Your family treats you like shit, after all you’ve told me about your past, I won’t let them get away with it. I’m going to tell everyone at work your little secrets and tarnish your reputation if you leave me. Move-in with me or the secret about your mum is the first to come out.” I complied. What else was I to do? I couldn’t let everyone know what happened, right? I do what I then do best, repress what happened and move on. Well, in this case, move in. Blaine and I officially moved into his house together. This is where the other warning signs started to become apparent. The signs I didn’t know existed until Mrs. Glasses and thrift shop sweater pointed them out.

“They then become paranoid about other competition for your attention. This includes pets or strangers they believe are of interest to you” She notes. Ah fuck, another memory floats into my mind.

“Do you know him?” Blaine said to me while walking into the grocery store. “What do you mean babe?” I asked in that annoying cute tone so he wouldn’t be mad. “That guy back there, you were staring at him. If you want him, go sleep with him but don’t crawl back to me. You’re mine not his, I don’t share. Keep your head down or else” he told me. Admittedly from here, I was becoming a little weary. I mean, how does one ignore those types of accusations? He profusely apologised to me later though, so it was fine…

“They can have extreme mood swings and go from romantic to furious almost instantaneously.” She then said. I just really need to stop. I don’t want to keep thinking about this. I just want my old life back. “They will lull you into complacency and discard you, threaten you with abandonment and then lessen your self worth so you feel as though you won’t be loved if you leave” she says next. This. Has. Broken. Me.

Coming from a broken family, you already have abandonment issues. I wonder if he knew that when I was picked as bait. Was it something about the way I dressed, my demeanor or something he could tell in the way I spoke? He’d be the most romantic person in the world and I’d truly feel like a princess. I’d then say the wrong thing to make him angry or take an action that wasn’t favourable and that was it, he was set off. I’d then spend the week trying to repair the relationship. By the end of it, it wasn’t even because I wanted to, it was because I couldn’t leave. I was scared and he was successful at luring me to the depths of the ocean. I had no safety net, no cage, nothing at all to survive the mess. That’s what I thought for so long anyway.

I wish someone would make Sue shut the hell up. I’m too polite and timid to say anything but she’s really getting on my nerves! This is hitting too close to home now and I really don’t want to relive that life anymore. “You might be wondering some of the reasons why you don’t have a shark cage built to protect you. One of the most common reasons is that you fundamentally don’t believe you are of worth, you’ve been raised around domestic violence relationships setting your standards and expectations. Possibly you were sexually abused as a child, you were raised to feel like you “owe” people or that saying “no” is rude”.

If I thought I was broken before, I now feel worthless. Every point mentioned profiled me perfectly.

At 19, good old Sue explaining my complex daddy issues are the reasons I’m sitting here staring her in the face. That aside, who’d have thought being polite and not wanting to hurt others is what essentially destroyed me. Being a people pleaser. Thanks Mum. I guess that’s why we’ve both been shit on, right?

“You don’t have to live this way. Together we can try and build a shark cage and get you to safety. You don’t have to live in fear anymore, you can swim to safety. Listen to your intuition and lean your value” The women said,

Safety. Am I safe? Will I ever feel safe? I’m away from Blaine but I don’t feel like the old me. I feel vulnerable, frightened, used and discarded. This session was meant to help me, not leave me with the same feelings I had the night he decided to let me go. But did he really let me go? I get calls daily, he visits me at my new job demanding I talk to him. I’ve complied because the piece of paper they handed me that night wasn’t enough to make me feel safe.

Warm hands, squeezing around my neck demanding I stay is what happened when I told him I was leaving. He came home enraged after a few drinks again because I changed my Facebook picture to just one of me. “You want everyone to think you’re single right? You just want to sleep with younger guys, you make me feel like I’m not good enough and then you have the nerve to leave” he yells into my face. Fight or flight kicked in and this time I chose to fight. I dug my nails into his arms and tried to get him to stop. He released me and I dropped to the floor and grabbed my phone and the very little belongings I had the chance to pack. My phone was then thrown into the wall and clothes were flung off the balcony. I’d almost made it out the door but he pushed me. I was told to stay, I didn’t comply. I inched forward again and this time he got his leg between mine when he pushed. I’d missed the dining table but fell to the ground. I was kicked. I was kicked multiple times but that didn’t really matter to him. When he was done, I was then chucked out the door, stopping just shy of the edge of the railing before the 2 story drop.

Police were called. They came and requested I give a formal statement, I didn’t. He played the victim and because he had visible scratches, and chose not to speak, we were both served with AVOs. The court hearing came around and we both dropped charges. As a result, I got sent here. Sent to Suzanne Schmidt for group therapy on women of domestic violence to listen to her talk about Ursula Bensteads shark cage metaphor.

I came here skeptical and unwilling to accept help. Navigating shark-infested waters isn’t going to be easy. I can’t see myself building a shark cage anytime soon, it’s just not who I am. Lessons learned will be what stops me from ignoring the signs but other women should know about this early on. Domestic violence can affect anyone regardless of age and gender, we are just blinded from it until we’re chucked in the ocean and left to swim with the sharks.