Copyright © 2018 Susanne Middelberg. All rights reserved

 

2026

For the past eight years, I was in a relationship with a very special man, whom I loved deeply—and whom I still love. And he loved me very much. At least, I thought he did.
The final year was difficult. More and more things happened that I did not understand—cruel things that confused me and made me afraid. When my mental state continued to decline, I sought help from a medical therapist. She referred me to The Lost Self, an organization of therapists specialized in narcissistic abuse. She had treated several former partners of my partner, all of whom showed trauma symptoms and shared similar stories about him. I also spoke with his former girlfriend. In this way, I discovered that my partner was living a double life.

During the last nine months of our relationship, he had told everyone around him that we had already broken up. At the same time, he and I were still together, and he was making plans for me to give up my home and move into his house. Many more lies surfaced. When I confronted my then-partner, he admitted that it was all true. More than that—he told me this was a pattern in his life, something he had done throughout his entire adult life.

When a relationship becomes difficult, he tells his surroundings that it is over and that he is looking for a new love. Meanwhile, he keeps his partner in the relationship until he has found another woman. During this time, he lives two parallel lives—sometimes even with three or four women at the same time. Once the new relationship is strong enough to replace the old one, he disappears from the life of his first partner without saying goodbye.

From the moment this process begins, he starts isolating his partner from her surroundings. I no longer saw our friends. He also begins telling people that his partner is mentally unstable, so that when he eventually disappears from her life entirely, no one will believe her when she speaks about what happened within the relationship.

In an emotional conversation, my then-partner told me that he had done this in every relationship since his first marriage. He also admitted that he had controlled me for years by manipulating my fears and past traumas. He said he knew me so well that he knew exactly what to say to touch my deepest wounds and make me utterly terrified. At the same time, he knew exactly what to do to calm me and make me feel safe—and he used this knowledge whenever it suited him to achieve his own goals.

He said he no longer wanted to live this way, that it had to stop now because he did not want to lose me. He promised to go into therapy. I felt relieved because, at that moment, he was honest. I believed him and felt full of trust and hope. A few weeks later, he left me in exactly the same way he always had—without saying goodbye, without saying or explaining anything.

I never knew my partner. For eight years, I loved a stranger.