Un-Gaslight Me
I stood at the window of our vacation rental and stared, holding my breath as I watched my then husband texting. It was not often I was at an angle or even remotely close enough to see his text messages. This was an opportune moment. I pulled the blinds down to get a closer look, and squinted until my eyes burned, as if my life depended on the words rapidly coming from his fingertips. I watched him vacillate between a text with a woman and a text with a small child. I caught just a few sentences. The child indicated he had not seen my then husband since his birthday. I remembered him traveling for business on his birthday, running out of our home that morning with the blown candle scent still resting in the kitchen. The woman said she was proud of him, and used words like “silly.” My heart rate escalated. He promptly stood from the chair and entered the front door, while I moved from freeze to flight mode and shifted around a dish towel on the counter. It took ten minutes for me to rehearse internal scenarios of how and when I would ask, and then I did. Arms reach length between us and enough tension radiating from my now hunched shoulders, that he could surely feel the interrogation coming. I asked point blank who he was texting and repeated the sentences I saw. He grabbed his phone, held it to his ear, and asked the other end to hold. He would be joining a conference call momentarily. My question was not answered.
We rode our bikes to the beach while he remained on the conference call, winding down unnecessary backroads, obviously delaying and giving him more time to prepare a rebuttal. I was angry. By the time we arrived at the beach, my anger transitioned to questioning what I saw. We sat in reclined beach chairs and after the insanity stewed in me once more, I asked again. Who was the woman and small child you were texting? Where did you go on your birthday? His reply was one sentence. Firm. Stoic. “We need to work on our trust issues.”
I caved. Inward. Like I usually did when I heard these not so often replies. It wasn’t often I could form words for odd things that I saw, let alone have the nerve to ask for clarification. This was brave. This was very brave, and I was now feeling very defeated. He promptly stood up, walked to get my favorite snacks and drinks, and it was not spoken of again.
This, dear partner, is Gaslighting.
Gaslighting in my story ranged from the extreme example I share above, to late night work calls taken from his truck in our garage, to finding an unknown address on an Amazon box in our home, to claiming in a therapeutic setting that my body was the reason our marriage was failing. My then husband had a deemed objective response in the que for any scenario that jeopardized the alternative lives he was living and questioned his character. The byproduct of living in such extremes for so long, is just as extreme.
Here is a brief list, dear partner, of symptoms and core beliefs that we all likely share from living a life with gaslighting:
- Inability to trust our instincts
- Feeling unsettled, like we are crazy
- Inability to make simple decisions
- Anxious
- Irritable
- Fear of the unknown
- Altered perceptions of reality
- Seeking validation for beliefs and ideas you once confidently knew to be true
How does one begin to show up for therapeutic work and healing, when their core belief says, “I’m crazy.” I used to begin most sentences like this in therapy. “I know it sounds crazy, but…” Or an alternate variation, “I feel like I am going crazy!” Dear partner. We have survived life-altering, mind-blowing, crazy-making behaviors in our most intimate relationship. We, however, are not crazy. And we may require a strong therapeutic foundation to continuously remind us of this reality, and to reframe core beliefs we inherently have, from surviving in this life for so long.
Here are a few examples of core beliefs our brains may have learned from chronic gaslighting, and reframes to consider for beginning the un-gaslighting process:
- Betrayed Partner Core Belief: I am crazy.
- Reframed Core Belief: I have survived behaviors that altered and deceived my reality. I am not crazy.
- Betrayed Partner Core Belief: I imagined what I saw. I am overreacting with how it made me feel.
- Reframed Core Belief: I may not feel safe in this moment to address what I saw directly with my partner, but I will journal what I saw and how it made me feel, and I will commit to discussing with my coach, therapist, or trusted inner circle.
- Betrayed Partner Core Belief: I can’t even go to the grocery store without feeling overwhelmed. I cannot commit to simple decisions, even planning what to eat.
- Reframed Core Belief: I feel anxiety and self-doubt making decisions right now, because my reality was replaced with lies and deception. I will commit to writing grocery lists and planning meals before I go to the store, so I feel safe to make decisions. I will commit to discussing decisions with my therapy team when I am struggling.
Rewiring our brain and reality for truth is a commitment to a process. For me, the process started with fixing my eyes on truth. Covering myself daily in God’s truth in the form of scripture, sermons, and devotionals. The process continued with giving myself permission to shift from “I feel crazy, but…” to “I am not crazy,” when navigating on-going and real life scenarios with the support of my therapy team. And this process continues on, even now, in relationship with a partner who cultivates a safe, loving, and committed relationship with truth.
May we all be afforded opportunities to name the thoughts, anxiety, and fears that were brought on by our partners behaviors and choices. May we bring them confidently into the light, write them down, say them out loud. May we release them into a trusted space, until intuitive doubt transitions to intuitive trust in ourselves.
