I recently broke up with an initially seeming-HVM who turned out to be a "Mr. Sensitive" from Lundy Bancroft's Why Does He Do That? If you're not familiar with the Mr. Sensitive profile, I suggest this FDS post or this blog post. The blog post almost perfectly describes my experience.

Mr. Sensitive is one of the most insidious types of abusers because of his convincing cover. He frequently comes across as gentle, caring, and deeply empathetic. Because of this, it can be difficult to see the abuse/manipulation as it starts to creep into the relationship.

Instead of anger and rage, Mr. Sensitive uses his sadness, vulnerability, and hurt feelings to control you. He may never lay a hand on you, but he subtly goads you into proving your worth by constantly being hurt by something you did or did not do. Over time, the implicit message that you're not "good enough" erodes your self esteem. If you're constantly focused on how to avoid injuring him, and on proving how much you love and care for him, you can't put your energy into your own wants and needs.

Because I know how difficult this can be to detect, I wanted to share two real-life examples from my relationship, as a case study in how this dynamic may play out. For brevity, I'll split the stories into two posts.

First, I want to say that out of context, this anecdote will make the relationship seem like it was entirely awful, but that's rarely the case at the beginning. He had so many of the traits I was looking for -- Handsome, fit, incredibly intelligent, thoughtful, successful in his career and extremely well-off financially, similar hobbies and values, generous and affectionate, great sex, in therapy and seemed committed to his personal growth and development.. I wouldn't have spent two minutes with him if he hadn't shown these positive traits.

I recognize that the desire to return to how good things were in the beginning is an incredibly seductive force, and is the reason I didn't immediately leave. However, rest assured that I saw what was happening, I gave it as much of the benefit of the doubt as I could, and I got out fairly quickly after these incidents. I respectfully ask that any advice or "you should have..." comments are offered gently, as otherwise this can be re-traumatizing for victims. I also feel very confident that I recognize where I should have done better, and overall feel very proud of myself for recognizing what was happening, holding firm to my boundary, and not staying for very long.

Now, for the story.

Weaponized Trauma

A bit of context is important. He shared with me early on that he had PTSD from his past emotionally abusive relationship. I remember a red flag going up when he told me that, because Bancroft stated that men who claim abuse are frequently the abuser. I made a mental note of it, to continue to observe and vet. As more details came out, I felt more comfortable believing his story. He eventually told me that his ex had been an escort, though she hadn't revealed that to him until they had been together for some time. Despite not really being ok with it, he continued to stay with her for several years. He also told me she had a personality disorder. He didn't share many details, but from what I gathered there were some violent episodes on her part.

At the time of the incident in question, our relationship had been going wonderfully. There had been conflict, a few instances where I felt suspicious that he was using his intense "sad" emotions to gain the upper hand, but nothing that felt too far beyond the realm of normal relationship annoyances and couple conflict. We also had many instances of healthy communication and conflict resolution to balance it out. Overall, I was immensely happy.

One evening, he took me out for dinner and a play. As the show was about to begin, I made a passing comment about how I thought I'd like to try out for community theatre. Acting is something I have a talent for, that I had hadn't a chance to pursue for a while. I assumed he would be happy for me for deciding to pursue one of my passions.

The rest of our evening was lovely, until we were about to go to bed. He made a matter-of-fact comment about how when I told him I wanted to audition for a play, his first thought was "What if she's in a play and she has to kiss someone?" but then he sort of dismissed it himself, like "Haha, but you wouldn't do that."

I looked at him and said "No, I would take a part with a stage kiss."

The exact sequence of events at this point is murky to me because it was so confusing and hurtful, but I do remember certain beats. I remember that he started shaking and trembling. I remember telling him "I don't understand, it's just acting?" and him saying "She would say it was just acting too." I remember saying "I don't know what you need right now?" and him saying "I want you to tell me you won't do it," and telling him very firmly that I wasn't going to agree to that.

Then, I remember him saying how it's not that he doesn't trust me, it's the idea of someone else potentially having desire for me, and getting to act on that desire, that is incredibly painful for him.

This put up a HUGE red flag for me, and my own past trauma was triggered. This was very, very similar to things that a physically and verbally abusive ex boyfriend had said to me, that boiled down to the belief that I was responsible for managing other men's attraction to me in order to spare his feelings.

I was having an intense emotional response at this point, almost a "fight or flight" response where I felt I needed to fight to very clearly establish that this was not ok with me, what he was asking was controlling, and I was not going to agree to it. At the same time, I was doing my best to repress those feelings in order to soothe my boyfriend in his panicked state.

The rest of it is a bit of a blur, but as he started to calm down he asked me to hold him and caress him. I continued to stuff down my feelings to soothe him, until I just couldn't anymore. I excused myself to another room and cried on the floor, feeling so hurt and confused, and questioning whether I could stay in this relationship if this was what it was going to be like.

When I came back, he was panicking that I would leave him, and then I was expected to comfort him about that instead. I felt so, so drained.

After that night, we spent some time trying to resolve the issue, but the heart of the conflict seemed to shift over time.

At first, it was about how we would handle the situation in question. I offered to agree to not take any roles with a stage kiss for X amount of time, if he committed to working through the painful feelings that brought up in him. He refused, insisting that he had already "done the work" and his trauma wasn't something he would ever get over. I offered to let him come to rehearsals, read the script, meet the person in question... None of that was acceptable to him.

Then, it became more about how I would handle his emotions. The narrative was, "Well, I could try to be ok with this, but it would be so difficult for me, and I would need so much emotional caretaking and reassurance from you, and you struggle with that, so I don't know that we would survive it." I remember that feeling almost like emotional blackmail, "If you do this thing, I will make it so unpleasant for you that you'll wish you hadn't done it."

Then, the core issue wasn't how we would handle me being in a play with a stage kiss, it was my behavior that night. Now the narrative was that he was having a trauma response, and the "one" time he really needed me (in reality he had had two or three episodes that were similar to this one, just not as intense) I wasn't there to support him and comfort him, and therefore he didn't trust me to meet his needs, and was distancing himself from me. I felt like I was being punished with withdrawn affection for asserting a boundary, and I was expected to re-earn the level of love and affection he had been giving me up until that point. It felt awful.

Never mind how hurt and scared I felt in that moment, that my own trauma had been triggered, his pain was what mattered. Right up until the end, I don't remember him ever showing any curiosity or concern about what I was experiencing, how hurt and scared I was, or my emotional experience. All I wanted was for him to say, "Clearly I have more work to do to address the pain I'm bringing from my last relationship to this relationship. It makes sense to me why that night was scary and hurtful to you, I'm committed to doing better and making sure that my trauma doesn't hurt you or prevent you from doing the things you love." And then of course, action to back it up.

But he wouldn't. And I feel fairly confident in saying that he wouldn't because this wasn't about him working through his trauma, it was about leveraging his trauma to gain my compliance.

Looking back, one of the most disturbing things about this incident is that what he was describing as a "trauma response" didn't start when he first had painful thoughts about someone kissing me in a play, it started when I said no.

It was awful, but I'm so thankful that I also recognized what was happening, my intuition was screaming at me that this was wrong, and I was able to use that information to leave shortly after.

I hope this story can be helpful to other women, and helps you to identify signs of this type of abuser in your lives.