My closest friends will tell you I am the most hard headed, opinionated, no nonsense person they know. My dad used to joke about how he felt sorry for any man who tried to put his hands on me, that I would probably kick his ass. I used to tell my friends all the time “if a man ever dared to put his hands on me I would put him in jail IMMEDIATELY.” But I didn’t do any of those things I thought I would. I met the love of my life, and I put all of my trust in him. I loved him so infinitely, so unconditionally, so completely. I would have given my life for his in an instant. I forgave him any and every flaw before I even knew them, because I thought I knew who he really was. Eventually he began to harass me for people I had been with before we had met. “How could you have dated so-and-so, they were garbage, do you know how bad it makes me look to be dating someone who was with them? Don’t you know who I am?”
I then believed that we were not equals, I had made mistakes before we were together and by his own word he had always been so perfect, I was so ashamed. Then came the insults on my achievements. “If you’re going to be with someone like me you better do something more with your life. You’re just going to work at X company forever?” So I promised to go back to school for my masters. “You’re right baby, I’m not doing enough, I need to do more for us.” I had planned to become a lawyer, if I had done it maybe he could be proud of me. Oh how I had failed. Then the insults on my body. “If you’re going to be with me, you better get it together. You need to lose some weight, you can’t walk next to me looking like that.” I was 125 pounds and wore a 00 jean and an xxs shirt. I was also dealing with extreme health repercussions from the stress I had been under due to this abuse. I was barely sleeping a few hours a night, but I HAD to go to the gym— every day. I had to make him proud. He went through my every text, every social media message as far back as 2014 and accused me of sleeping with every man who ever messaged me. He messaged men pretending to be me and asking if we had hooked up. He got the passwords for my email, social media, iPad and would spend every night while I slept obsessively reading through every communication I had throughout the day. Then what should have been the worst happened— He hit me. I thought that was rock bottom. He promised he would change. He begged me to forgive him. I went somewhere else in my mind while he held ice packs to my nose before work, when he put frozen spoons under my eyes to try to make the black eyes go away. I went back to the therapist I had seen a year before. She warned me if I did not leave him he would likely kill me. She told me she was afraid every time I left her office that was the last time she would see me alive. I told myself over and over I was done. That he was crazy, that he was sick, and then he would convince me again I was the problem. I had become so dependent on his presence, I had completely formed my future around what I believed we would have. Then one night we got in a fight, and he killed our dog right in front of me. I still panic every time the memory plays over again in my head. It was the worst thing I have ever experienced. I called the police and I left him that night. Shortly after I found out that he had been abusing women since he was a teenager. That he had been cheating on me our entire relationship while screaming into my face that I was a whore for having boyfriends before him. And it finally clicked in my mind that I am not the problem. I moved across the country to get away from him and he found me. I filed a restraining order 2 months and I have had multiple court dates with him, all of them being postponed because of COVID. I have worked so hard to start my new life away from him, I pray every day that the courts will see the danger I am in when our hearing finally takes place. But either way at least I know I stood up for myself, I said enough, and I fought for my life.
Notice: The names in this story are fictitious to protect the request for anonymity.
