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When Katie* first met Jay*, he told her she was out of his league. He said he felt as though he wasn't good enough for her, confessing it had taken all his courage to even ask her out on a date.
"On our first date, he doubled down, sharing how he didn't feel he was worthy of dating someone like me," Katie told Mamamia.
"I thought that was crazy, of course. This man was kind, respectful, and good-looking. And he treated me like a Goddess."
As they got to know each other, Jay constantly told Katie, a single mum, how in awe he was of her. He admired the way she cared for her children while juggling a successful career and a tidy home. He was amazed by her kindness and willingness to put others first, all while keeping herself in shape and making an effort to look her best.
"It felt so amazing for all these qualities to be acknowledged and appreciated," said Katie.
"Of course, I wasn't all these things all the time, but it felt good that Jay had noticed my efforts. He made me feel like an absolute prize."
At the same time, Katie worked on lifting Jay's self-esteem, reassuring him that if anything, she was the one who didn't deserve him.
Watch: Discovering the term 'coercive control'. Post continues after video.
Their relationship developed, and eventually Jay asked if he and his three children could move into Katie's home. He wanted them to be a family.
Having four more people in the house meant more chores and more expenses, but the idea of starting a blended family was worth it to Katie.
It also meant the government payments that helped pay her mortgage would disappear. Jay contributed rent, but it didn't cover the gap, so Katie took on more hours.
"I didn't want to work more as my two kids were still quite young, but I also wanted to make it work," she said.
And that just made her more impressive to Jay, who once again showered her in praise.
"He couldn't believe the way I could hold down a good job, care for the kids, keep the house in check, and be a loving partner as well. And I loved that he felt that way."
Katie was on a pedestal. The problem was, staying there was becoming increasingly difficult.
"I began to feel like I was burning out, so some parts of my perfect facade started to slip," said Katie.
"Jay loved me though, so I thought he would help me pick up the slack. Or at least be there for me.
"Instead, I began to feel like a failure."
Jay started to make remarks about how things had changed. Snide remarks about the state of the house, comments about the kids' behaviour, complaints about money.
"It wasn't always direct," she recalled.
"Sometimes he'd walk in from work, I'd be exhausted having worked from home with kids running around all day, and he'd go straight to the cupboard and start vacuuming while yelling at the kids.
"I would feel like such a failure, even though I was juggling a million balls. But instead of feeling angry at Jay, I'd feel as though I'd let him down. So, the next day, I'd try harder."
As the years went by, Katie's confidence continued to decrease. She felt like she'd fallen completely off the pedestal, and was scrambling to get back up.
What Katie didn't realise at the time was that this cycle of praise and disappointment was actually a subtle form of coercive control.
Katie's experience is not unusual. What started as adoration and what she perceived as love soon became a trap she couldn't get out of. According to counsellor and author Nova Gibson, this is a classic but covert form of coercive control.
"Placing someone on a pedestal in the context of abuse and control is a manipulation strategy," Nova explained. "During the love-bombing phase, the abuser makes the victim feel special by appearing to be invested in their success.
But over time, that support turns into sabotage. And instead of recognising the abuse, the victim blames themselves for failing to live up to the idealised version of themselves."
At first, the pedestal feels incredible. Victims feel seen, admired, even adored. The pedestal can last for months, or even years. So when things start to change, it can be difficult to spot. Instead, victims are left feeling confused and destabilised.
"The 'nice' treatment comes to a screeching halt," Nova said. "Suddenly, you're being criticised or ignored, and you're left scrambling to get those good feelings back. That's how people develop a high tolerance for abuse they never would have accepted at the beginning."
The result is a cycle of idealisation and devaluation that leaves victims questioning their own reality. They learn to walk on eggshells, constantly striving to please, while their self-worth becomes dependent on keeping their abuser happy.
"It overlaps with gaslighting, isolation, and other forms of coercive control," Nova says. "The victim becomes hypervigilant, subconsciously knowing that one wrong move might see them knocked off the pedestal completely."
For Katie, that cycle chipped away at her confidence until she barely recognised herself.
"I felt like I was failing at everything," she said. "But instead of blaming him, I kept blaming myself."
Katie has since left Jay and has slowly rebuilt her confidence, but she says it's hard to completely forget the feeling of "not living up to expectations."
"But now I understand the behaviour for what it was: a way to undermine my self-esteem and make me work harder to earn love that should have been unconditional."
Nova says this is why naming the behaviour matters.
"When we talk about the pedestal, we validate victims' experiences and help them see it for what it really is – manipulation, not love.
"Abuse isn't only bruises and broken bones. It can be covert, confusing, and emotional. And by shining a light on it, we can help people find the support they need to heal."
*Names have been changed due to privacy.
If you or anyone you know needs to speak with an expert, please contact 1800 RESPECT (1800 737 732) — the National Sexual Assault, Domestic and Family Violence Counselling Service. If you are in immediate danger, call 000.
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Feature image: Getty. (Stock image for illustrative purposes).
























