When an Abused Family Member Dates or Marries a Significant Other From a Loving Family

Many years ago, I dated a woman whose father had physically and verbally abused her, which she did not admit to me until nearly a year into our relationship. I was concerned with my partner’s mood swings, especially as Bipolar Disorder was common in her family and my best friend was a sufferer, but she visited the doctor and was not diagnosed as such.

He said N was suffering from “stress.” (We’ll call my ex “N” for this purpose.)

N’s mother was a Holocaust survivor, and when Mom passed of cancer Dad took his anger out on her, his youngest of four daughters.

Allegedly he had regularly hit N in her childhood. The physical violence did not occur once we were dating, though I witnessed him calling her names and pitting the other sisters against her.

I had it out with him every time. It seemed that every day I was putting out a fire between them both, and excoriating him for being disrespectful (and more) to his daughter. Their relationship was co-dependent, though; she would never leave him or try to get help to change him.

I was not used to this family dynamic at all. I learned then that I was one of the fortunate ones, in some ways the exception as opposed to the norm. I thought most all families were as caring and loving as mine. My parents and two younger brothers were all respectful of one another, and always supportive.

N’s father once told me his daughter reminded him most of his late wife, and he “joked” with me that she was “haunting his ass” which is why he “sometimes singled her out.” He also said to me that he loved her, but I could take better care of her than “this fuck-up ever could.”

I asked him to step away for awhile as my girl needed some healing. He told me to kiss his ass.

N and I were at a park a month later when the conversation got serious ... and killed our relationship.

“You heard what my father said. Do you think you’ll ever propose to me?” she asked. “Or, am I wasting my time?”

Just like that.

“We’ve been dating barely a year,” I said. “Can we work on some issues and take it from there?”

“Fuck you!” This was not an entirely unexpected response. This was of the nature of what has passed before. “You think you’re better than me and my dad because you come from a family where everyone loves each other? I got news for you. You’re nothing. And your family is nothing!”

A line was crossed. I tried to calm things down, knowing that this too shall pass. She continued on, raging in the park, out of control.

I walked off.

Despite repeated followup phone calls — over a five-year span — I ignored every attempt at communication. She got the message, and the calls stopped.

If we did get married, this was my fear. A perpetual battle of wills and one-upsmanship …

Further, I did not have the temperament at the time to deal with any of this. I could have been a better and more understanding person myself, but I was in my 20s and had no patience for what I considered “drama” back then.

We were done, and I had gotten on with my life.

I sincerely hope N has long since been able to move on with hers, and met a man who appreciates her for the good woman she is.

None of it was her fault.

I hope she sees this article one day.

Many years later, I met someone new. The circumstances, however, were eerily similar. She was not abused by her dad, but by her mom. Her dad seemed to ignore what was happening, as he was working all day long.

Somehow they had a good relationship, despite it all. He was a gentleman who admitted to me that the wife treated the daughter poorly, and said he was in a difficult place financially to where he needed to put his attentions onto his business so he could afford the family food and a roof at the time.

It was an excuse, but he at the very least made sure he maintained an amicable relationship with her.

Our relationship ended as we had little in common, but we remain close friends to this day.

Still, I’ve long wondered how a father could reconcile the fact that abuse was going on in his home and he could not be there for his daughter.

He passed away before I could ask.

I eventually settled down and married at 36 years old. We’ve been together for nearly 20 years as I write this.

I lost my own dad nearly a decade ago (time really does fly, as he used to say), but my family remains as close as ever.

Her family’s dynamic is/was not the same as mine, but I realized as I’ve gotten older that everyone’s family dynamic is different. Once I thought all families were like mine; today I see even close families have their own issues.

In disclosure, if I delved into my own extended family here we would find depression, suicide, imprisonment, and more. I say this to make a perfectly clear point: Who am I to judge?

You should not either.

We learn these things as lines crease our faces, hair falls out and joint pain becomes unmanageable.

Life really is too short.

If you are in a relationship that is, in effect, “over your head,” get out if you are not willing to work at it. You are not doing anyone any favors, nor will your nobility factor increase, if you stick it out.

If, however, you appreciate that differences abound in all families, and that much of what makes your partner tick emanates from their families, overcoming related obstacles should be eased moving forward.

Further, if your partner — who may not have been as lucky as you as it regards their upbringing — sees that you are making a real effort to understand who they are, then you just may be in for a wonderful life together.

Understanding and love are an unbeatable combination, you know.

Thank you for reading.

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