From the moment I met him, I looked up to him with eyes naively wide shut and gave him a fragile heart that desperately wanted to be held.
He was older than me, incredibly successful and oozed confidence. Having very little self-belief I was drawn to his bold, unshakable self-reliance.
He took me shopping and bought me clothes, whisked me to exclusive restaurants and told me I was the sexiest girl he’d ever met. It felt like a dream come true.
I wore what he chose, ate what he ordered and did what he said. I thought I was being treated like a princess, I let down what miniature guard I had and gave him everything, grateful to be shown so much attention.
If he didn’t like a friend of mine, I distanced myself.
If I made plans, he said he’d already made a booking for us somewhere so I cancelled.
Soon, I was living in the palm of his hand and as soon as he had me where he wanted me, he started flicking the cold switch of control.
I so desperately wanted to make him happy I tried even harder and I was so scared of losing him I tried to keep his heart warm. He started throwing me crumbs of affection, knowing I’d be grateful for them and that became how he controlled my behaviour.
When Jason Melo, the hideous man who made his girlfriend walk naked down a freezing New York street appeared in court this week, he was utterly unrepentant when asked if he had any remorse.