I Used to be Property. Owned by a Narcissist.
The loss of my autonomy to the highest bidder — my abuser.
When we first met, I mistook his possessive nature for passion. I had never met a man so consumed with what I thought was love. I had never been the receiver of such affection and intense emotion.
So when he showed up in my life at a time when I couldn’t have been more starved for love due to a past of men who wouldn’t even hold my hand in public, I became easily drunk with the toxic cocktail he offered me to drink. A cocktail of power, control, and authority that had me sign over the deed to my body and mind that would take me nearly two decades to get back.
As is the case with emotional abuse, but specifically abuse at the hands of a narcissist, his need for control happened slowly and over time. It was in the little things at first, where I still felt in possession of my autonomy but rather enjoyed his crusade to ensuring that I was his and always would be.
