Its not controlling, it's survival
He probably tells people I was controlling. But let me tell you what was really happening behind closed doors.
I know my ex told people I was controlling because I would call him when he was out with his friends and ask what time he was coming home. I'm sure that's still the version of events he tells today.
But here's what those people probably don't know: I wasn't calling because I wanted him home. Quite the opposite, actually.
The Peace When He Wasn't Home
I loved having the house to myself. The peace. The quiet. The ability to sit in my own home and relax without walking on eggshells, worrying about his mood or wondering when the next argument would start.
The house was so peaceful when he wasn't there. But I was constantly stuck between a rock and a hard place.
On one hand, the longer he stayed out, the longer I could enjoy that peace. On the other, every extra hour meant more alcohol, more drugs and a greater chance that, when he eventually walked through the door, that peace would be shattered.
I wasn't asking when he was coming home because I wanted to control his evening. I was asking because I needed to mentally prepare myself for mine.
What Happened When He Came Home
I knew what was coming. The more he drank, the louder he became. The more drugs he took, the more confidence he seemed to gain to behave even worse than he already did on a daily basis, often doing things he wouldn't remember the following morning.
He would come home and wake me up, even if I was fast asleep. He would pester me for sex, refusing to leave me alone. If I didn't want to, he would sulk and make me feel guilty.
My sleep, my peace and my boundaries didn't seem to matter.
It didn't end when the night was over, either. The following morning, I would be dealing with the consequences again. He wouldn't go to work because he was supposedly too ill, and he'd spend the day lying around, feeling sorry for himself.
Plans would be ruined. Weekends would be wasted. Somehow, his choices became my problem to deal with.
There Was No Winning
You might wonder why I didn't just ask him to come home before he got too drunk. Believe me, I tried that too. But it came with its own consequences.
If I asked him to come home before he'd had too much to drink or taken too many drugs, he would be angry with me for cutting his night short. He'd make it clear that I had ruined his fun and stopped him from drinking. Or he would come home and carry on drinking anyway.
So what was I supposed to do? Let him stay out and enjoy a few more hours of peace, knowing that the longer he was gone, the worse things could be when he returned? Or ask him to come home earlier and risk anger, resentment and blame for supposedly ruining his evening?
There was no winning. If I asked him to come home, I was controlling. If I left him alone, I was left worrying about what state he would come home in. If I said anything about his behaviour afterwards, I was apparently nagging.
I wasn't trying to control how much he drank. I was desperately trying to limit how much his drinking and drug use affected our lives.
It Affected My Daughter Too
Before he came into our lives, our home had always been peaceful. We didn't have shouting, screaming or constant arguments. That simply wasn't how we lived. Our home was somewhere my daughter could feel comfortable, safe and relaxed.
But that changed.
She became afraid to invite her friends over because she never knew whether he would start shouting or what atmosphere they might walk into. His behaviour affected her studies because our home was no longer the calm environment she needed to concentrate.
Perhaps the most heartbreaking part for me as her mum was knowing how much she hated witnessing him shouting at me. She should never have had to experience that in her own home.
When I called to ask what time he was coming back, I wasn't just thinking about myself. I was thinking about my daughter.
Would he come home shouting? Would he wake us up? Would she have to witness another argument, or struggle to concentrate on her studies the next day? Would another weekend be ruined because he'd spent the night drinking and taking drugs?
I was constantly trying to calculate which decision would cause the least amount of damage. And that was exhausting.
Trying to Predict the Unpredictable
When you live with someone whose behaviour is unpredictable, you start trying to predict everything: their mood, their drinking, their reactions, their anger and the atmosphere when they walk through the door.
You begin planning your own behaviour around theirs, desperately trying to prevent the next explosion. Somehow, that gets labelled as controlling.
But trying to control another person's life and trying to protect yourself from the consequences of their behaviour are two very different things.
I didn't want to dictate where he went, who he saw or how long he stayed out. In fact, I was often relieved when he went out.
Imagine being happier when the person who's supposed to love you isn't home. Enjoying every minute of silence while simultaneously dreading the sound of their key in the door. Knowing that the longer that silence lasts, the worse the night might become.
Imagine having to weigh up whether it is better to ask someone to come home and face their anger, or leave them out drinking and face whatever version of them returns. Then imagine making those calculations not just for yourself, but for your child too.
That isn't control. That's living in survival mode.
When Survival Starts to Feel Normal
The constant anxiety, the walking on eggshells, the mental preparation and the attempts to keep the peace become part of everyday life. So does the responsibility of dealing with the consequences of someone else's choices.
The saddest part is that, after living like that for long enough, it starts to feel normal.
You stop asking yourself why a grown man can't go out with his friends without his drinking and drug use becoming everyone else's problem. Instead, you start asking yourself what you can do differently to prevent the fallout.
Should I call him or leave him alone? Say something or stay quiet? Pretend to be asleep? Just agree with him to avoid another argument?
You spend so much time managing someone else's behaviour that you barely have the energy left to live your own life.
I Was Trying to Protect Our Peace
So yes, I called him when he was out. I asked what time he was coming home. Sometimes, I asked him to come home earlier.
Not because I couldn't bear to be without him. Not because I wanted to stop him seeing his friends. Not because I wanted to control him.
I was trying to protect myself, my daughter and the peaceful home we had always known before he came into our lives.
If that behaviour has been used to paint me as the controlling one, then perhaps it's time people understood what was happening behind closed doors. There's a whole world of difference between controlling someone's freedom and desperately trying to manage the consequences of how they use it.
I wasn't controlling him. I was managing a situation that a grown man should never have put me or my daughter in.
And I refuse to feel ashamed of the ways I tried to protect our peace.
With love,
ReBecoming Her
Heal ♡ Grow ♡ Transform
Where to Find Support
If you're experiencing domestic abuse or recognise parts of your own life in this story, support is available.
You can find support resources and links to organisations that can help in the Get Support section of my website. You don't have to navigate this alone.