Pretty on the Outside

Greetings to all! I’ve been lurking around this forum for the last couple of months. I am so grateful to have discovered this and to learn that I’m not the only one who has become entangled with an HPD. Reading all of your posts has helped to validate and normalize my feelings.

Although my story isn’t all that different from what others have posted, I feel the need to share it with you. I am a married woman who befriended this married HPD woman.

My HPD and I met in Italy in September 2003 and formed a fast “friendship” which lasted a little less than two years. At the time, it seemed that my prayers had been answered when we met. Both of our husbands were in the US Army. When we first met, I had only been in Italy for a week and was excited about meeting people and making friends. Because of this vulnerability, I guess I was the perfect target for her.

I stood outside the excursions office waiting for the shuttle bus to arrive. A striking, petite blond wearing a skirt and spaghetti-strap top confidently sauntered up to the group on the sidewalk. With a distinctly British accent, my HPD greeted the group and flashed a smile. Everybody boarded the bus and we were on our way to tour a castle and winery.

At the winery, my husband and I struck up a conversation with my HPD and her husband. She was from Wales and he was from Missouri. On the return trip, we ended up sitting near each other and had an entertaining, non-stop conversation the entire way back to the military post. I found out that my HPD was my age and we had similar professional backgrounds, having worked in marketing.

A couple weeks later, they had us over for dinner. Not only was my HPD witty, smart, charming and sophisticated, she could also cook! Over steaks and grilled vegetables and at least four bottles of wine, we got to know each other better. At the end of the evening, my HPD proclaimed, “I found my soul mate!” I was equally smitten. Little did I know what I was getting into.

Later in October, I had wanted to take a week-long class as an overview to the Italian language and culture. The unfortunate thing was that I didn’t have a car and the class started 2.5 hours after my husband would leave for work. My HPD came to my rescue. “Just have your husband drop you off at our place and I’ll get you to your class,” she said. I couldn’t believe the magnanimity of her gesture. This was quite a bit of an imposition, but she didn’t seem to mind. When the class ended, I went shopping and bought an assortment of goodies that I knew she and her husband would enjoy. It was the least I could do to express my immeasurable gratitude. She would later tell other friends of hers that I never appreciated anything she had done for me. She would also make comments like this to me about other friends of hers. What is that all about?

Also, in hindsight, she never mentioned too many close friends from her past. I have been blessed with a number of wonderful, supportive friendships over the past 30 years. And, when I’d mention missing my old friends back home, it seemed like she just couldn’t relate. She’d also take offense like I didn’t consider her to be as close of a friend as my others who I had known for years. But, how could I? We’d only known each other a few months at this time. The military must be a good environment for HPDS since they are usually moving to a new place every few years and can reinvent themselves.

Over the next several months, we continued talking, laughing, drinking, exploring and enjoying each other’s company. Within a month of each other, we found part-time jobs. She had just left for England on the day I received my offer. She knew that I was expecting a call that week so she phoned from England. She was thrilled when I told her I had been hired. I was touched that she would think to call me while she was away with her family. What a thoughtful friend!

After I had been working for a couple months, my HPD sent me an e-mail saying that someone was talking about me and saying that I lacked professionalism and ethics in my job. I had flippantly remarked to her one day that I had access to people’s birthdates and it was interesting to see how old certain people were. When I received her e-mail, I was startled. I’d never want anyone to question my reputation at work. I was grateful that she had told me. But how was it that this other person found out? Certainly she wouldn’t have said anything to anyone. I should’ve known then.

On multiple occasions, she flirted with me. I didn’t think of it that way at the time. At the gym once, she asked if I’d help her into her sports bra. It was an odd request, but I helped her tug it on. Another time, when we went to an outdoor event, she asked if I wanted to hold her hand as we were walking to the bathroom. And one evening, after having my husband and me over for dinner, she hugged me goodnight and “accidentally” grabbed my ass. One other time, as we hugged she ground her pelvis into mine. On yet another occasion, she blew into my ear as we were talking and wrapped her arms around me from behind and nuzzled my neck. What was this all about? I just passed these gestures off as her having too much to drink and being overly affectionate. Plus, I never thought of it as she was hitting on me. It just wasn’t something I’d ever expect from a girlfriend. In the future, I’ll trust my instincts that this type of behavior is inappropriate, no matter what the circumstances.

As time passed, we’d make plans together and sometimes she would cancel and sometimes she wouldn’t. It was hit or miss, but I knew when we’d get together we’d have a blast, so I was willing to overlook her last-minute excuses for why she couldn’t join me. Initially, it was little things like meeting for coffee or going to the movies or shopping. Eventually, she would invite me on a trip to Belgium with some other friends of hers, but she bailed that morning, claiming she had a horrible, incapacitating headache. One of her friends said later that she was concerned that I might hit on her because she thought I was a lesbian. A little projection maybe?

Another thing I had noticed was that she hardly ever had a kind word about anyone. Especially those who seemed closest to her. I told myself that she could never say such rotten things about me… or could she? I can only imagine how much she smeared me.

Shortly before our husbands deployed, she sent me another e-mail telling me that she was concerned for me since my husband hadn’t yet given me access to his bank accounts so I could pay the bills while he was gone. I told her that I wasn’t worried about it and neither should she. More strange, meddlesome behavior, but I dismissed it. Why would she try to interfere with my marriage?

It wasn’t until she started hanging out with a couple other friends that our friendship really started to change. Both of our husbands deployed within a month of each other to Afghanistan. They were gone for a year. With all this extra time on our hands we decided we’d start spending some evenings at a wine bar between our houses. We’d meet there three or four times a week, spending a few hours there each night. We got know the local Italian regulars who went there and also the cute bartender, Marco.

Soon, our twosome expanded to include two other women. At first, we had fun hanging out together. That was short-lived. As time passed, I noticed that my HPD was acting more like one of the other women who was quite different from me. Little did any of us know, but the HPD had been making nasty, unkind remarks about each of us to the others. Based on what the HPD had been saying, it got to the point where each of us thought the other didn’t like us. One of the women had the good sense to approach the other about some discrepancies in the HPD’s tales. They both agreed they should tell me what was going on.

When we sat down to talk, I was in a state of disbelief. How could my good friend be saying such mean and malicious things about me? I couldn’t believe it. After all, I adored her. Each of us did. Yet, there were things that these other women knew that I had discussed only with my HPD. Some were quite personal in nature and I had explicitly asked her not to say anything to anybody.

The situation completely unraveled when I was house-sitting while she and her husband were on vacation. I was so distraught over everything that I couldn’t talk to or text her when she was trying to get in touch with me. The next day, she called me nine times and sent me at least three texts. Finally, I responded to one so that she’d leave me alone. A day later, she spoke with one of the other women and it went downhill from there. She frantically called and text messaged each of us. I confronted her about the affair she was having and about disclosing personal information I had asked her not to share. She admitted to the “indiscretion” then immediately backtracked and said she and the bartender were just friends. In regard to sharing the personal issue I was having with the others, she said she knew that what she did was wrong. That’s the closest I ever come to an apology.

I later found out that she was accusing the one woman of being a pathological liar, the other of being a whore and me, a lesbian. Apparently, while my HPD was having the affair with the bartender, she’d text message the one woman (“the whore”) with very graphic details of their sex life. I just couldn’t believe it. This woman also mentioned that the HPD was smoking pot regularly and taking her Xanax. I had no idea. That certainly explained her erratic behavior.

The weeks following our blowout, I ran into my HPD several times. First, I unexpectedly saw her at the gym. It was like seeing the ghost of a once dear friend. Later, I sent her a nice text that acknowledged that I saw her, but I never received a response.

A few weeks after that, I ran into her at another office. I decided to say “Hi!” and asked her how she was doing. We made small talk for a couple minutes, but she seemed really squirmish and could barely make eye contact. It was as pleasant as it could’ve been, but she just couldn’t get away from me fast enough.

Subsequent times when we saw each other it was the same response. One day, I went into her office to check on the trip schedule for the winter. She saw me coming a mile away. The look on her face told me she would’ve liked to duck under the counter. My HPD and I exchanged pleasantries about friends who had recently visited each of us. Before leaving, she said it was good to see me. But, I’m sure that was just another lie. It always seemed to me that her behavior -- avoiding eye contact and acting nervous – when we’d see each other was like an admission of guilt. Is that possible? I didn’t think HPDs were capable of feeling remorse.

I could no longer continue our “friendship” knowing that she was having an affair with a married man and using drugs. Plus, I’d had enough of her bizarre behavior. Reading your posts has made it clear that I never meant anything to her in the first place. If only I had trusted my gut, I would’ve saved myself a lot of grief.

How it is that her husband stays with her? They’ve been together for about 13 years. I’m pretty sure they’re both alcoholics. Maybe that explains it? What would make her go to such extremes with other women? Most of the posts on this forum seem to deal with how female HPDs string along men. Could she also be BPD?

Any insights are greatly appreciated. Thanks for taking the time to read my lengthy post. Perhaps better understanding will bring me closure.

How it is that her husband stays with her? They’ve been together for about 13 years. I’m pretty sure they’re both alcoholics. Maybe that explains it?

In my case, I didn't know she had HPD. I was with her many years before it manifested, so I knew and loved the real woman inside far too much to give up on her without a fight.

She changed on me and nothing I could do or say had any effect. I guess I got lost in the forest for all the trees, 'cuz once I saw her behavior towards fresh targets and contrasted it to how a genuine empathetic woman behaved... I finally found out what had happened to her.

I guess it's just hard to spot. When you're in the crosshairs you don't know that you're looking at a personality disorder. From the outside you never see the behavior manifest itself.

After seeing what they act like and witnessing it first-hand, I can spot an HPD pretty easily now.

Stay tuned...I'll be posting my train-wreck one of these days. It's a work in progress....

A couple other thoughts occurred while I was mulling this over:
The one opportunity I had to get this diagnosed and treated was about 6 years ago. I blew it because even then I was simply unwilling to tell our marriage counselor what was really going on. HPDs tend to go for the attentive, empathetic folks. As a result we are unwilling to say anything bad about them no matter what they might do. We're also prone to not go seeking help no matter how much distress we may be in. We're used to being the rock.
So we play-acted. And nothing got noticed by the guy who would have been in a position to.

Disentangled wrote:*snip* The military must be a good environment for HPDS since they are usually moving to a new place every few years and can reinvent themselves.*snip*

*Nods* Many years of experience doing this...

Disentangled,
Please read my post "My train Wreck". It'll provide all the insight into your question you could possibly need.

digital.no face and Racer_X:

Thanks for your feedback. I appreciate your taking the time to read through my long story.

Racer_X, I'll be sure to read your "train wreck" post.

Even though it's been nearly a year-and-a-half since everything came to a disastrous end, I still wonder about her and what her life must really be like. On the surface, she seemed to have it all. It's been difficult to separate the seemingly kind, helpful friend I thought I knew from the troubled, manipulative, self-centered person she really was inside. Many days I waffle between feeling very sad for her and other days I feel angry with myself for tolerating her behavior for so long. This will fade with time, right?

This will fade with time, right?

It will fade with counseling. It has to, because on an intellectual level you're not to blame. I don't know if that sort of internalization just happens on it's own. You're farther along than I am. I'm impatiently awaiting my first counseling session and I know that I haven't forgiven myself.

I know a lot of women with Personality Disorders who seem to end up with partners with Personality Disorders. They're dysfunctional together and "even" each other out. They're relationships that don't seem to make any sense from the outside, but when you turn them inside out, they were likely made for each other.

One female friend with a PD has always told her PD mate that they're meant for each other because nobody else will have either of them. They've been together 21 years and seem to be going strong, so there's much truth in those words.