E molded me into a submissive slave. He taught me early on, in the friendship stage, not to argue with him. If I, or anyone for that matter, had a differing opinion, or dared to tell him he was wrong about something, he would come back with ‘It’s because I’m a man, isn’t it?!’, or ‘You’re an idiot!’ His comebacks were ridiculous, and I desperately wanted to avoid them, so I’d keep quiet. Once we’d passed the friendship stage, he added abuse, verbal or physical, to the mix if I dared disagree. This taught me to fight his battles for him. I’d grown so afraid of anyone disagreeing with him, that I would argue E’s side against anyone. I was a fierce protector of his opinions, no matter how wrong they were.

He wanted to make sure I knew I needed him. For awhile he allowed a registered sex offender to stay with us. Someone I’d expressed a fear of before. I suppose his goal was to keep me afraid, and stick closer to him. At least E, and his abuse were familiar. Another time he allowed a Veteran to move in with us. One with PTSD, whose wife left with their child because he was physically violent.

He had us church hop. He would look into churches that were LGBT friendly, and take me there. I had to listen to pastors, and parishioners, talk about how Jesus was gay, and sexual, or Jesus was trans. E’s goal was to create a divide between me and my faith. He would tell me and others I was bisexual, or fully lesbian, even pansexual. He wanted me to question everything I was told by others, or even myself. He wanted me to need him to tell me who and what I was. He succeeded.