Sometimes U-hauling is love-bombing

Content warning: this blog post discusses intimate partner violence, from the perspective of the person who experienced it. Please look after yourself as you read through this piece, and remember, the helpline is available to provide support 24/7. Call or webchat any time. 

If you are reading this, then there is a good chance that you and I have something in common. I’ve been there and I hope my words can be here for you.

I thought because I had experienced intimate partner violence (IPV) in my straight relationships that I knew what to look for and how to protect myself, but abuse doesn’t always present in a way that we would expect.

I met her through organising my local Pride. I fell hard. In a world that feels so hostile to us, the attention of someone who accepts you for who you are is intoxicating.

We were working together on a project that was intense. Quickly we were talking every day for hours at a time, if we couldn’t be together. We danced to I Wanna Dance with Somebody at Pride and spent weekends away in the sunshine, everyone said we were perfect together. I thought we were perfect.

Things moved fast; everyone in our circle laughed about us U-hauling. It didn’t seem like a big deal to me. 

Then the fighting started. When I mentioned it to friends, they figured we both had responsibilities within the community and demanding lives, that this was normal. Then she told me that the community is so small and she didn’t want everyone to know our business, so I kept it to myself.

She made constant comments about my gender presentation and interrogated my transness. She tried to direct me to present in a way that she wanted in lieu of listening to me when I was finding myself. She asked me to delay starting HRT so I did.

The fights escalated into screaming matches that would last for hours. She told me these fights wouldn’t happen if I had just communicated better, so I tied myself into knots trying to communicate perfectly. But it was still always my fault. I was constantly walking on eggshells and I was scared to tell anyone. 

Any perceived misstep on my part was justification enough for her to behave in any way she wanted to me.

We broke up and got back together too many times. We tried staying friends after each breakup because the community is so small that leaving a friend group feels like losing it all.

Eventually after being broken up for a while she tried to stay in my life, texting, calling or turning up at my house unannounced. She withheld my belongings as an excuse for her to keep being in my life. When I started to get frustrated and give up on getting these things back she started threatening and insulting me. 

I cut off all contact and avoided going places I knew she would be, I resigned from the organisations we shared, I lost my community. 

It wasn’t until I had started seeing the friends I had cut off for her that I found out how cruelly she had treated people without me knowing. I started telling the truth about what she used to do. I thought I would lose all our friends after we finally split because she had convinced me that no one really liked me, where in reality they were only friends with her because they didn’t want to lose me.

It wasn’t till then that my friends and family told me that they were sure they were going to lose me forever if I didn’t get out.

It took me months to get my spark back, my friends helped bring my laughter back and I started remembering how strong I was.

When we talk about IPV I think we picture certain images, but sometimes things don't look like what we would expect. Sometimes u-hauling is lovebombing.

Asking you to transition, present or act in a certain way isn’t love.

Asking you to not take hormones isn’t love.

Asking you to keep quiet about their behaviour isn’t love.

If you feel smothered, voiceless, and alone every single day I just want you to know what I now know.

That isn't normal. That isn't what life is supposed to be. 

But there are people you can rely on. 

The cost of leaving may be steep, but the cost of staying is so much more.

There's a community out here for you and we will help you.

I'm not sure what's next for me and that's terrifying but I know one day I’ll dance with someone who loves me.

K
They/them
Takatāpui, Queer, Non-binary
Māori and Pakeha

If any of this story has resonated with you, either for your own experience or that of someone you know, please reach out. You deserve to be loved, you deserve to be respected and you deserve to have autonomy and control of your own life. The team on the Are You OK helpline can support you, from trying to unpick what you’re experiencing, right through to helping you to navigate support systems.