Remembering Little Things

It’s weird when little things trigger memories of trauma—especially when, at the time, you had no idea what you were experiencing was abuse.

Tonight, as I was getting ready to brush my teeth, the tiniest amount of toothpaste came out of the tube, and that was all it took to take me back to 1999.

We had only recently gotten engaged when the little things started. One of them was how I needed to save money anywhere I could. I was already living in government apartments after graduating with my degree because he told me that since he was living with his parents to save money, I needed to be more conscientious about where my money went. Never mind that I literally had a drug-dealing pimp living above me and that my apartment door backed up to a wooded area that felt incredibly unsafe.

One day at the store, he told me I no longer needed to buy brand-name products. According to him, everything was the same, so I should buy the cheapest version available—even toothpaste. I argued that I’d always used Crest. I grew up using it, and I’d never had any problems with my teeth. He insisted it was all the same and that buying anything else was a waste of money.

But it didn’t stop there.

Back at my apartment, he criticized the amount of toothpaste I put on my toothbrush. He told me I only needed the tiniest pea-sized amount and that anything more was wasteful.

Needless to say, within six months I had a small cavity in one of my back molars. Honestly, it’s a wonder that was the only issue I had with my teeth given his obsession with controlling every penny.

The strangest part is how vividly I remembered it tonight, as though it had happened yesterday.

At the time, I knew what I believed was right. I knew why I preferred the toothpaste I had always used. I knew I didn’t agree with him. Yet somehow, I allowed him to overpower my own judgment. I allowed him to control, manipulate, and diminish my confidence from the very beginning—and it only got worse after the engagement.

It genuinely makes me nauseous when memories like this surface. And, of course, it makes me wonder whether there will ever be a day when I am completely healed from all the damage he caused.

Toothpaste.

Such a small, ridiculous thing.

But it wasn’t really about toothpaste.

It was about control.

It impacted me so deeply that, to this day, I intentionally use a generous amount of toothpaste, and I have bought Crest ever since that cavity appeared all those years ago.

These moments may seem like “little things” while they’re happening, but they aren’t little at all. They are often the first cracks in the foundation—the early warning signs of something much bigger to come.