(Editors note: Trigger Warning Most of the posts on this site by their nature would be expected to have trigger warnings. This survivor’s story may be more impactful because she endured statutory rape, rape,sexual abuse and miscarriage along with other physical and emotional abuse. The survivor also shared a photo of herself about the time period of this story)
Please share what happened to you.
I really just wanted to be loved. I wanted to feel good. I didn’t really know what love was either. I had some emotional issues from some childhood trauma, and unknown to me until years later I suffered from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. So to quiet all that noise I self medicated. Self medicated and made poor choices. I didn’t respect myself because I never learned that in childhood. While I was still a child of fifteen I met a twenty-three year old man who just got out of jail. It started out as just a fairy tale. I felt like a lovable, kissable, beautiful princess. He doted on me. He listened to me read my poetry. He loved my drawings. He was kind and made me feel very special.
Until he spit on me. He worked up a gob and spit right on my face during a not even heated discussion. He apologized profusely and said he had a violent upbringing and sometimes reacted wrong. I felt sorry for him and how his stepmother treated him and forgave him.
A couple of weeks later he hit me right on the jawline. It rattled my brain, and made me feel dizzy. He apologized again. I think he bought me presents later.
The hitting started happening more often and it just didn’t sink in really that it was happening. The good times were really good so the bad times didn’t seem like a big deal. And the bad times grew worse. So I quieted my mind with more self medication.
It was a sexual relationship. One day I didn’t want to have sex and was lying on my stomach and refused him. He raped me anally. It burned and remember grabbing onto the bed and feeling like I was going to vomit. He damaged my bottom, and I didn’t tell my parents because I would have been probably treated far worse than the pain I was already in. On another occasion he went down on my during my time of the month and then came up and kissed my with my blood thick in his beard and rubbed his beard all over my face. I didn’t care anymore. I never really like myself much anyway. I ended up getting pregnant. I never told any family or friends. I was terrified. I told him and he punched me in the sternum, grabbed my hair on the top of my head, because my hair was short in the back and dragged me towards the basement. The basement steps were gone, and there was only a ladder there. He kicked me from behind and I landed on the basement floor in a lump. I laid there for a long time, and hugged the cool floor. A few days later, eating at a fast food restaurant I felt sick. I went to the bathroom and miscarried the baby. I was actually happy that I never would have to tell my parents. I would never have to see the disappointment on their faces.
Not long after my parents and I went to see an uncle down south. While I was there, sans boyfriend, sans drugs I realized I didn’t have to check in with him. I didn’t have to get my outfit, makeup, or hair approved. I was filled with a tornado of images of what had been going on for the last year and a half and had a really major wake the heck up moment. I announce I was going to break off the relationship when we got home. My mom told me not to do it at his apartment.
What do moms know when you are seventeen years old? I broke up with him at his apartment which was on the second floor, he no longer lived in the house without basement stairs. It took over an hour to get out of his house. At one point he had a gun so far in my mouth that it made me wretch and gag. He was going to kill me. I was sure of it. I finally was able to make it to the door after being kicked up and down the apartment. I ran down the outside stairs and made it to the car with him right behind me. I got into the car, and he hit the window. I sped away and hooked his leg with the front bumper while I was backing out. He landed on the driveway. I was afraid he would press charges, but my dad said with the way I looked he didn’t have a case.
How are you now?
For the most part I am successful, productive member of society. I do suffer from OCD, but have gone to counseling and learned many coping skills. I also have depression that kicks my butt once in a while. I love to do any kind of art. Creating something gives me an inner peace that nothing else can. It is a much better mind quieter than any drug ever! I was diagnosed with cancer in my early 20s and had a radical hysterectomy. So the only child I would have ever had would have been that baby that never had a chance. I don’t often think about that. I have small circle of really good friends, and a husband who is very loving and pretty patient. I can be myself with him and he doesn’t get afraid. As a whole I am pretty happy. I am a very forgiving person. I see the beauty in everything, and everyone. Those traits were not taken. I have always been open to love. I think I finally know what it really is, it just took me a while to figure it out. I also can say that I love myself too, and that took many years to do.
What would you tell the world about Domestic Violence?
I would never allow someone to disrespect me verbally, or physically a second time. If it happens once… get out of there. Run for the hills. It will happen again. It happens far too often. You are better than that no matter what your mind may be telling you. Love yourself more than your partner. Make yourself the number one and all the rest is icing on the cake.