What Are Negging & Gaslighting? Abuse, That’s What.

Earlier this week, I shared an article about Training Your Partner/How to Start a Relationship off Right and I fittingly, had the opportunity to put Step 5 into practice this week, too (see my final word below).

I had been on a few dates with someone and there were red flags that I noticed but chose to ignore in the name of being mature and responsible and giving this person the benefit of the doubt. Once I followed my own advice, Steps 1-4, it was most definitely time for Step 5. Why? Because he was exhibiting abusive behavior. It was subtle, sneaky. I didn’t really see it happening. He was a fun and pleasant person, and I genuinely enjoyed his company. But in the midst of our good time, he would insult me and challenge me so regularly, I started to feel inadequate. And then I realized why: I was allowing myself to endure abuse.

Finally, there are names for these patterns. If you haven’t heard of them, it’s time to learn, look and listen. Equip yourself and be aware: This. Is. Abuse.


NEGGING

Negging is that tricky subtle negative garbage that is intended to knock down your confidence just enough so that you’ll be more <air quotes> approachable. The Neg-slinger hopes to pique your interest for being seemingly so disinterested with you that they treat you as if you’re nothing special. AKA passive aggressive insults. AKA bullying.

In this article, where negging is introduced as a pick-up method complete with tips and tricks for using the best neg at the best time to get the girl you want, the author also warns against using the negging <air quotes>“technique” inappropriately, where is comes out as an actual insult. Well guess what, it is an actual insult. Negging is bullying. Negs are passive aggressive self-esteem-crushing blows no matter how you want to define and refine it. Negging is bullying. Bullying is abuse. Do not put up with it.

Some that I heard recently:

“Wow, cute top! I love last season knock-offs.”

“Omigod, I can’t believe you’re not wearing tights. That dress is so short. Aren’t you cold?”

“Three kids, huh? What’d the third one do walk outta there?”

“Wow, cute top! I love last season knock-offs.”

Please imagine my face in response. There were no words. <Negger, please.>

img_2124


GASLIGHTING

Have you ever been made to feel like you don’t remember things correctly, or your judgement is off, or that you’re just plain going crazy? Yes, that’s a thing. That’s an abuse thing. It’s called gaslighting. Gaslighting is when your abuser makes you question your own sanity.

“Gaslighting or gas-lighting is a form of mental abuse in which a victim is manipulated into doubting their own memory, perception, and sanity. Instances may range from the denial by an abuser that previous abusive incidents ever occurred, up to the staging of bizarre events by the abuser with the intention of disorienting the victim.

The term owes its origin to the 1938 play Gas Light and its film adaptations. The term has been used in clinical and research literature.” (Wikipedia)

“Wow, you totally made that up.”

Unfortunately, gaslighting and negging can go hand in hand. Because in the context where you might actually stand up for yourself against a neg, a gaslighter might say:

“Wow, you totally made that up.”
“You’re just too sensitive.”
“I’ll talk to you when you’re not PMSing.”

No, a-hole you need to stop being a jerk. It’s not me. It’s you. I’m not internalizing things incorrectly; you are saying hurtful things and you need to stop.

Gaslighting is a high-stakes mind-game for control of your emotional and psychological dependence. Be aware. Your experience, perception, and opinions are all valid, especially when you feel hurt.
Emotional abuse is brutal. It peels back your skin and digs its nails into your most vulnerable places. It’s an infection that seeps into your soul, telling you there’s something wrong with you; you’re not good enough; you’re a disappointment; no one wants you. Emotional abuse speaks life into whatever your self-defeating thoughts are. It crumbles you from the inside out, ultimately making you fully dependent upon the abuser as you fight for their approval. But it will never come. You will bend over to satisfy them, but they are insatiable. You’ll fear the same rejection by a stranger so you want to stay where its comfortable. At least you have someone right?

Wrong.

Be strong, be confident. Even if you have to do it alone. You deserve to be happy, comfortable and fully accepted by yourself as well as in your relationships. If someone isn’t making you feel seen, loved and valued, then you deserve better.

So, here’s what I sent to my once-gentleman caller after I had certainly endured quite enough of both his negging and gaslighting:

I just listened to your message. Let me be clear that I am not now and was not Friday riled up, angry, or upset; nor have I overreacted. I am very calm and matter-of-fact. I know what kind of man I want to share my time with and energy on and you have simply shown that you are not that man. Plain and simple.
We are not married. I am not obligated to keep company with someone who has imposed negative critique on both my physical figure and my home in addition to continually taking a teacher/preacher tone with me as if I need to learn lessons in patience, wisdom, confidence and my family relationships. I have the right not to entertain a relationship where I do not feel fully accepted and cared-for as-is. I do not need to be coached/changed/fixed/improved/educated and if I do I will take the initiative myself, not because you told me to.
I appreciate your effort after the fact, but I cannot trust words, only the actions you have shown me and what you have shown me is that you want to be with someone tidier, more physically fit, and willing to be lectured. I am not that person. I am quite comfortable in my skin and in my apartment and I am mature enough to handle my own relationships and decisions without you imposing unsolicited advice.
In your next relationship I do hope you do not imply her body or home need improvement. Most women will not respond well to that or as mildly as I have. Also, thank you but no thank you for dinner. If you’ve already got one foot in DC, I really don’t see the point even if you managed to stop casually insulting me on a regular basis. I’m certain there is someone that is a better fit for you as I am sure there is for me as well. Good luck.

AND SCENE. Do not settle. Be strong. Advocate for yourself. It is much better to be alone and healthy and happy, than in a relationship that is defeating and miserable.

~OR

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Validated

 

photo creds IG @_wills

 

Part of my Road to Relovery includes accepting myself – every part of myself – spiritually, mentally, emotionally, and the hardest one, physically.
I’ve been shamed and teased about my body shape and even coached on how to hide the curves and how to learn to walk or sit or dress differnently so that I look “normal.”

Now I’m at a place where I don’t need external validation because I’ve validated myself.

But guess what…

Read this.

A Big Butt Is A Healthy Butt: Women With Big Butts Are Smarter And Healthier – ELITE DAILY

Sometimes it just feels so good when science tells you it’s all good.

……………………….
val·i·date

ˈvaləˌdāt/

verb

past tense: validated; past participle: validated

check or prove the validity or accuracy of (something).

“these estimates have been validated by periodic surveys”

demonstrate or support the truth or value of.

“in a healthy family a child’s feelings are validated”

synonyms: prove, substantiate, corroborate, verify, support, back up, bear out, lend force to, confirm, justify, vindicate, authenticate

“clinical trials now exist to validate this claim”

make or declare legally valid.

synonyms: ratify, endorse, approve, agree to, accept, authorize, legalize, legitimize, warrant, license, certify, recognize

“250 certificates need to be validated”

………………………..

Drops mic.
~OR

 

Stubborn

 

stub·born
ˈstəbərn/
adjective
  1. having or showing dogged determination not to change one’s attitude or position on something, especially in spite of good arguments or reasons to do so.
    “he accused her of being a silly, stubborn old woman”

 

 

 

 

 

#sorrynotsorry

Today – and as I grow, heal, mature, and hopefully evermore – I am stubborn. Being the peacekeeping, balance-loving, diplomatic Libra that I am, I usually believe there is always a compromise and solution – we just need to explore the possibilities and find it. But there are some things I have learned are nonnegotiable. Some things are what they are – some people are who they are – and I’m finally learning to be unapologetically me.

So, Sorry. I’m not sorry. The list below is my final farewell to things about myself I have learned to love, despite others’ – yes real people’s – strong suggestions to change, eliminate, or “correct” – and yes, I said “correct” with a side-eye.  Skip you. I’m not sorry.

I’m not sorry for having a wide nose.

I’m not sorry for having full lips.

I’m not sorry for having brown skin.

I’m not sorry for having dark scars.

I’m not sorry for having dark brown eyes.

I’m not sorry for looking like Vanessa Williams.

I’m not sorry for having a bubble butt.

I’m not sorry for having a lisp.

I’m not sorry for having a crooked smile.

I’m not sorry for having brown gums.

I’m not sorry for having bulging eyes.

I’m not sorry for not talking how you think I should talk.

I’m not sorry I’m independent.

I’m not sorry I’m not attached to my phone.

I’m not sorry I didn’t want a second date.

I’m not sorry I passionately want to explore all my talents.

I’m not sorry I want to be a working mother.

I’m not sorry the laundry isn’t always clean.

I’m not sorry the house isn’t always spotless.

I’m not sorry I hate shaving my arm pits.

I’m not sorry I get hair bumps when I do reluctantly shave them.

I’m not sorry I also hate shaving my ahem…

I’m not sorry I don’t shower every day.

I’m not sorry I have thick, coarse, self-knotting hair.

I’m not sorry I have short nails.

I’m not sorry I have rough palms.

I’m not sorry I love everyone.

I’m not sorry I love white people.

I’m not sorry I love black people.

I’m not sorry I’m black.

I’m not sorry my pelvis isn’t flexible.

I’m not sorry I don’t always enjoy chicken wings.

I’m not sorry I’m allergic to watermelon.

I’m not sorry I defy your stereotypes.

I’m not sorry I have stripy stretch marks after carrying four children.

I’m not sorry I will never look the same in a bikini.

I’m not sorry for wearing a bikini.

I’m not sorry for being vulnerable.

I’m not sorry for speaking freely.

I’m not sorry for having ideas.

I’m not sorry for talking.

I’m not sorry for speaking up.

I’m sorry for singing.

I’m not sorry for refusing to work for free.

I’m not sorry my name is hard to pronounce.

I’m not sorry I’m afraid of the dark.

I’m not sorry I’m a slow reader.

I’m not sorry I don’t enjoy deep analytical conversations.

I’m not sorry for walking away from an abusive situation.

I’m not sorry for exiting an abusive conversation.

I’m not sorry for refusing to participate in gossip.

I’m not sorry having a tattoo.

I’m not sorry for wanting a hundred more.

I’m not sorry for liking tattoos.

I’m not sorry for being attractive.

I’m not sorry for dressing well.

I’m not sorry for not giving you my phone number.

I’m not sorry for not smiling when I don’t feel like smiling.

I’m not sorry for following my dreams.

I’m not sorry for loving karaoke.

I’m not sorry for enjoying TV.

I’m not sorry for loving a day on the couch.

I’m not sorry for having abstract ideas.

I’m not sorry for being creative.

I’m not sorry for not fitting into your box.

I’m not sorry for not being Michelle Obama.

I’m not sorry for having goals.

I’m not sorry for laughing too loud.

I’m not sorry for dancing too much.

I’m not sorry for being silly.

I’m not sorry my feet stink some times.

I’m not sorry for farting.

I’m not sorry for slacking on my pedicures.

I’m not sorry for having a sweet tooth.

I’m not sorry for having three children.

I’m not sorry I refused to be talked down to.

I’m not sorry for being intuitive.

I’m not sorry for being right.

I’m not sorry for making mistakes.

I’m not sorry for being happy.

I’m not sorry for being sad.

I’m not sorry for needing help.

I’m not sorry for falling in love.

I’m not sorry for changing my mind.

I’m not sorry for believing in magic.

I’m not sorry for being Christian.

I’m not sorry for looking for the truth in all religions.

I’m not sorry for saying, “No.”

I’m not sorry for being strong.

I’m not sorry for being brave.

I’m not sorry for not counting calories.

I’m not sorry I’m finally starting to know my worth.

I’m not sorry for being Octavia.

 

~OR

write yourself well – read yourself better

Blogging is hard. Blogging is especially hard when your blogging isn’t what keeps your lights on. Blogging is especially super mega hard when you want to put all your stuff out there, but…you can’t put all your stuff out there.

What’s not hard, is going to my Happy Place when I feel overwhelmed and frustrated – whether by my own doing or external. When I need to escape or need to be reminded of what I really love in all this world – besides my adorable children – I close my eyes, take a deep breath and envision my alternate reality. That’s right, what I really love in this world – besides my adorable children – is the power of imaginative creativity.

So that’s where I went. That’s where I’ve been. Playing with my imaginary friends and getting ready to continue their story. The next volume is long overdue, but here she comes. Taryn and her gang are back. And I am so excited – thrilled – and healed – because of her.

Get ready for Volume 3 – there’s plenty of time to catch up on the first two novellas. Check ’em out!

Want to read a piece? Check out one of my favorite chapters here on LinkedIn.

the hibouleans octavia reese~OR

why I didn’t watch Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show

I’ve learned so much about myself over the last year – especially that I have introvert tendencies and need time to be a hermit. I need that alone time to recharge my own battery and recover from the world. I’m an empath on many levels and my non-stop interaction with people can be as draining as it is energizing.

Anyhoo, it was during my hermit mode last night as I plopped on the couch after work and barely moved til morning. I turned on the TV, which I rarely get time to do and I simply potatoed. I watched an interview on Oprah’s Where Are They Now with Kathy Kinney. Yes, Drew’s very own Mimi character.

Well, this woman is brilliant.

She has a book and blog called QUEEN of your own life. She said, “Happiness is an inside job. When you compare your insides to someone else’s outside, you will always come up short. When someone is working overtime to give you the message that you are not “enough,” that’s a glaring sign to turn on your heels and walk away. In fact, run away. That person or group of people are toxic.”

Yeah. Interesting.

So while I was a hermit last night, I was about to turn on the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show, simply because I like watching women parade around sometimes. I mean who doesn’t…I am a former beauty queen after all. But then I decided, no. No. I’m going to sit here and watch Ghostbusters. And then I’m going get up and make a quesadilla. And then I’m going to come back to this here very spot on my couch and watch Home Alone 2. I made the conscious decision not to watch those mostly naked ladies. Why? Because I would feel like shit today.

Because all I would do is stare at their unnaturally flawless skin, hair, breasts, butts, and waistlines; their hair-bump-less underarms and bikini lines; their unobtainable legginess. And then I would take tedious mental notes of how not a single part of my body looks like an inch of theirs and never has and never will.

And then, I thought about Mimi. I’m sorry. Her name is Kathy. I thought about Kathy.

When you compare your insides to someone else’s outside, you will always come up short.

I thought about being my own Queen. I thought about how my own Road to Relovery is undoing years of feeling like the dirt on the bottom of someone’s shoe. It’s partially about dating and searching for romance, but it’s also about loving myself first. So, no. I didn’t watch Vicky See’s last night. I sat on my couch and ate my dang quesadilla. And this morning, I felt rested. I felt sexy. I felt powerful. I felt like I could conquer the world.

~OR