Successful People … with a Flip Side.

They can hide in plain sight, in the most unlikely of places. Even in the White House.

images (3)With all of the recent political fuss over the departure of White House Staff Secretary Rob Porter, and the bombshell interview conducted by CNN anchor Anderson Cooper with Porter’s second ex-wife, Jennie Willoughby, on February 8, focus has once again turned to questions about successful people and the secret or second persona some of them seem to have. How can this be? How can a charming, intelligent, and successful person secretly be an abusive personality? How can they so easily glide through their world unnoticed? How can they so easily charm and manipulate intelligent, normal people who surround them?

If you haven’t yet seen the interview with Ms. Willoughby, it’s worth seeing. I’ve provided a link to it on YouTube (above).

I watched the interview with great interest. Ms. Willoughby said many things that sounded familiar. One segment in particular caught my attention. She described how her ex-husband was professionally a very competent and successful man, and, “even in the face of what’s unfolding,” she said, Porter still enjoys a high degree of support from the people around him. At the outset, Ms. Willoughby emphasized one thing: “the idea that he could be so different [at home] seems to escape people … and yet everyone, in their daily lives, has a different personality for different situations. I think this, for Rob, is just a really extreme and toxic version of that … [I experienced] a low-grade and constant terror of not knowing what I might do to set something off—what mood he would have. There weren’t any explicit threats, but I frequently felt threatened.” It’s clear Ms. Willoughby continues to be dismayed by the number of people who simply don’t want to believe her; who won’t permit the facts to challenge the image they already have of Rob Porter—his public persona. And the idea that he may have another side? They don’t accept it because they’ve never seen it. But Jennie Willoughby has, and so has Porter’s first ex-wife.

Willoughby: That’s a question I’ve been asked a lot—why did you stay if he was a ‘monster?’ And the reality is that he’s not a monster. He is an intelligent, kind, chivalrous, caring, professional man, and he’s deeply troubled and angry and violent. I don’t think those things are mutually exclusive.

Cooper: And the people he works with may not have seen that side of him at all?

Willoughby: Of course not. It’s reserved for the most intimate and vulnerable moments in his life.

In another fascinating portion of the interview, Ms. Willoughby describes meeting Porter’s first ex-wife, Colbie Holderness. It must have been an epiphany for her. She found validation in the fact that Porter’s “systematic” manipulation and “tearing down” of her own personality and confidence had all happened before to someone else, and therefore, had nothing at all to do with her—or with reality. “I think that a lot of people in abusive relationships,” she said, “because of the constant, insidious breaking down of that confidence, and that even knowledge or sense of self, [they] start to believe that it really is something that they’re doing, or something that they in some way deserved because of their choices. For me, I just sort of accepted it once it became the norm. I lost a lot of confidence and just accepted that that’s what it was. And it took years to get past that point. But it took me meeting Colbie and hearing the story and sharing my story, and us both going, yeah, yeah—that happened to me too, before I could recognize the magnitude of it.”

When asked about Porter and his current dating relationship with White House Communications Director Hope Hicks, Ms. Willoughby said, “If he hasn’t already been abusive with Hope, he will. Particularly now that he’s under a lot of stress and scrutiny. That’s when the behaviors come out.”

There’s a good deal in Jennie Willoughby’s story that rings true with me. As I observed, increased stress was one of the factors that caused my ex-wife’s substance abuse, infidelity, and interpersonally abusive behaviors to careen out of control. When Barbie accepted her ambitious new job in 2015, I removed everything involving the household and the children from her plate in an effort to help her focus. It had all been in vain.

On February 11, 2018, Ms. Willoughby published an article on Time magazine’s website. She wrote:


On Saturday morning, following the overnight resignation of another White House staffer after his ex-wife came forward with her story of abuse, the President Tweeted: “Peoples [sic] lives are being shattered and destroyed by a mere allegation. Some are true and some are false. Some are old and some are new. There is no recovery for someone falsely accused—life and career are gone. Is there no such thing any longer as Due Process?”

There it is again. The words “mere allegation” and “falsely accused” meant to imply that I am a liar. That Colbie Holderness is a liar. That the work Rob was doing in the White House was of higher value than our mental, emotional or physical well-being. That his professional contributions are worth more than the truth. That abuse is something to be questioned and doubted.


Well put. Was my ex-wife’s career of higher value than the mental, emotional, and physical well-being of her family? Is her professional life worth more than the truth? Isn’t it easier to disbelieve me? I’m sure everyone around Barbie at work and in her social life values and respects her. That’s why she’s let them come that far into her world. But the truth would be dissonant to everything they believe true about the person they think they know. The truth would be devastating. So denial is easier than accepting that devastation.

I found Ms. Willoughby’s article to be intellectual nourishment. She continues:


I think the issue here is deeper than whether Trump, or General John Kelly, or Sarah Huckabee Sanders, or Senator Orrin Hatch, or Hope Hicks, or whether anyone else believes me or defends Rob. Society as a whole has a fear of addressing our worst secrets. (Just ask any African-American citizen.) It’s as if we have a societal blind spot that creates an obstacle to understanding. Society as a whole doesn’t acknowledge the reality of abuse.

The tendency to avoid, deny, or cover up abuse is never really about power, or money, or an old boys’ club. It is deeper than that. Rather than embarrass an abuser, society is subconsciously trained to question a victim of abuse. I would call it an ignorant denial based on the residual, puritan, collective agreement that abuse is uncomfortable to talk about.

Amidst the recent rash of sexual assault revelations born of the #MeToo movement, even I found myself questioning the accuser. I almost allowed my societal conditioning to override what my heart knows to be true: abuse is scary and demoralizing and degrading. It chisels away at your self-esteem and self-worth until you are unsure whether your version of reality is valid or not.

If someone finds the strength and courage to come forward, he or she is to be believed. Because that declaration only came after an uphill battle toward rebirth.

Ultimately, this is not a political issue. This is a societal issue, and the tone has just been reset by the White House. If the most powerful people in the nation do not believe my story of abuse in the face of overwhelming evidence, then what hope do others have of being heard?

We are at a critical moment in history and there are three things I know to be true:

Where there is anger, there is underlying pain.

Where there is denial, there is underlying fear.

Where there is abuse, there is cover-up.


Ms. Willoughby’s article is entitled “President Trump Will Not Diminish My Truth.” Neither will my ex-wife diminish mine. Abuse was my reality. It was real. I am not crazy or obsessive. And most importantly, I am not alone. As Colbie Holderness, Porter’s first ex-wife, wrote in a recent Washington Post article:


Recognizing and surviving in an abusive relationship take strength. The abuse can be terrifying, life-threatening and almost constant. Or it can ebb and flow, with no violence for long periods. It’s often the subtler forms of abuse that inflict serious, persistent damage while making it hard for the victim to see the situation clearly.

For me, living in constant fear of Rob’s anger and being subjected to his degrading tirades for years chipped away at my independence and sense of self-worth. I walked away from that relationship a shell of the person I was when I went into it, but it took me a long time to realize the toll that his behavior was taking on me. (Rob has denied the abuse, but Willoughby and I know what happened.)


I can’t really add to the power and incisiveness of Ms. Holderness’ observations, but I will say this: coming clean on this blog is, for me, deeply embarrassing. But it’s still a process of “coming clean.” And that’s what I need most right now—to breathe deeply, to think clearly.