As I walk this journey that I never thought I would, I am reminded of what I am thankful for. My kids, parents, sisters, brothers-in-law, nephews, nieces, and true friends. The way these people have held me up when I have fallen has been incredible.

I use to be worried about what people thought of me, mostly the lies that have been said. Everyone told me, people who truly know you, know that none of it is true. They are right. Why would I want anyone in my life that could believe it anyway? I guess it hurts to think people who said they were family and friends believe it. But I have to remind myself, they also believe he is a good person so their judgment is way off.
I am a domestic violence survivor.

I will say it louder for the people in the back… I AM A DOMESTIC VIOLENCE SURVIVOR.

For almost 20 years I was beaten off and on. No, he didn’t beat me every day, and yes he would go months without raising a hand. I probably had a least 3 concussions, too many black eyes to count, I couldn’t even begin to count how many times I have been punched in the head and face, and my jaw has been broken (not medical confirmed but when you can’t bite down for weeks, your jaw doesn’t line up and your teeth were separating and now crooked, it is broken), and dislocated once, a knee injury that lasted months, burned, spat on, head split open twice where I lost some much blood I am almost passed out, broken/bruised ribs, too many bruises on arms and legs to count. When he was in an episode, the fear I felt was like no other. I have to say going to sleep at night was the worst, not knowing if I would wake up in the morning by being beaten to wake. It is a strange feeling that you are happy when the bruise can be covered by clothes or think why can’t he punch me somewhere other than my jaw so I can eat?

But, I have to say the mental and verbal abuse was just as bad. I have been accused of everything under the sun. I have been called every name in the book. I have been accused of stalking him, tapping into his phone, bugging our wifi, and putting cameras in our home to communicate with “my boyfriend”. When I picked clothes to wear, he was always in the back of my brain of what he thought. I didn’t wear a skirt or dress to work for almost 20 years because one night he told me it was easy to access as he pushed me into the tub and beat me.

The color and style of my underwear .. l did wear anything lacy during the week. I got nervous any time my phone rang or a text. I blew off my former supervisor every administrator day for lunch because I didn’t want to have to tell him I went out to lunch with a man. I stopped eating lunch with my friends in the break room because of his accusation that I was sleeping with my co-worker. I have been accused of having an affair at every job I have had. Why, because I never went anywhere during the evenings or weekends. I have taken 2 lie detector tests at the beginning of my marriage. I passed both but he would tell you now I didn’t. He is good at rewriting history.

The ironic part, he is the one who cheated. He was in love with an affair and continued for months. And confessed to sleeping with two other women he worked with. They say their accusations are the closest thing you will get to a confession. I guess that I why I was accused of sleeping with coworkers. And I forgave him. But I now know the main reason I did was that I was afraid. Afraid to do all on my own. Afraid to go back to my parents who had been right about him all along. Afraid of the unknown and what my life would look like. And I now know I had nothing to be afraid of. My family embraces me and helped heal me.
Those fears don’t go away the minute you are safe. I realize this when I walked into the parking lot of our son’s soccer game when he was arguing with me. We both walked between two SUVs where no one could see us with him behind me and my first thought “he is going to hit me”. But this time my second thought was “if he does, I am calling the police”. He has stalked me to the point my brother-in-law made me get pepper spray.

After a year and a half of therapy, I realize he started grooming as soon as our relationship started. Telling me he loved me 3 weeks into our relationship should have been the first red flag but at 20, I just didn’t see it. I realized I never was in love with him, I was in love with the lie of who he wanted me to believe he was. He is really good at projecting himself as a good person, he has fooled many many people. But more people saw him for who he really was and now aren’t afraid to tell me.

See what people who are not in an abusive relationship don’t understand is there is a trauma bond that forms. Trauma bonding makes you psychologically addicted to your abuser. This explains why trying to stop contact feels like you are coming off a drug . … Trauma bonding involves cycles of abuse – following an abusive incident or series of incidents, perpetrators will often offer a kind gesture to try to recover the situation. When he came out of an abusive episode, he was the sweetest man. It was all a lie. It is hard to know that your life was one big lie for 20 plus years.

I feel like it isn’t a new chapter I am entering into, it is a completely new book. I am not the person I was for 20 plus years. I am fearless, strong, independent, and a better person. I am happier now than I have ever been in my life. I can breathe for the first time. I have my power back. I know I will make mistakes but it is a freeing feeling to know that it is ok. No one is going to scream at me or put me down. To know I can grow and thrive without someone trying to stop me.

This new book is going to be an amazing ride and I can wait to read it.

I have been doing a ton of research for my upcoming appeal case. As alot of you know my story, I am fighting for primary placement back and sole custody of my son. There was legal error in the Circuit Court as many parts of the Wisconsin State Statue 767.41 for custody and domestic violence were not followed in my case. This allowed my abuser to regain control and manipulate the family court system. If the legal Statue had been followed, this case would not have lapsed 3 years and me and my son’s saftey would of not been placed in the line of fire. He would also still safely be with me full time like he was for 2 years.

I fought hard as his Dad wanted to take him forever, but like hell this Mom would of never let that happen. Trying to convince a judge that a Mom with zero criminal history, has been a RN working actively in good standing for 16 years, who not only provided work letters, testimony etc to give him sole legal custody didn’t work. But as I have learned over the last few years, Mother’s who are victims of domestic abuse are having their children ripped from there arms all the time for no reason! They are being deemed “crazy”, “over-dramatic” and even uncooperative for speaking out and trying to protect their children in family court.

Taking a case to the Court of Appeals is not easy. You cannot simply appeal something you just do not agree with. You have to show actual legal error took place. You have to have proof domestic violence occurred. The proof I have in my case is a copy of the citation I most recently requested from an open records request, and also having a 4 year Domestic Abuse Restraining order since April of 2020. The Circuit Court Judge claimed having these things did not prove any domestic violence. I was not only shocked, but disgusted.

Going into the legal errors in my case would be a very long post. But at least 3 legal errors were made. Not one….but THREE!

I recently learned through reading that my parental rights were violated as the Constitution, and specifically the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment, protects the fundamental right of parents to direct the care, upbringing, and education of their children.

This does not apply if a parent is deemed unfit according to standards. I WAS NEVER deemed unfit. My child was never put in any ways harm as I was investigated throughly and CPS refused to take my case as they thought the allegations were ridiculous, with no legal proof or even evidence.

Instead a Guardian at litem, decided to file an emergency ex parte order, stating my son was in immediate danger because I was using legal CBD. With this order, I was never given the Due Process which is that a citizen who will be affected by a government decision must be given advance notice of what the government plans to do and how the government’s action may deprive them of life, liberty, or property. It can be overlooked in an emergency situation, but my son was at his father’s when it was filed and my son was never deemed at the end of the trial to be in ANY emergency situation, much less even in my care when this was filed.

So not only was one of my Civil parental rights violated, but also my right to due process was violated, which violated my liberty to be heard before a court order was signed or granted.

I am sharing this post, because for a long time I have been scared to speak out and take action. I still allow my abuser to this day, instill fear in me, and that if i speak out he will retaliate against not only me but my precious boy while in his care. This fear retraumatizes me over and over and actually can drain my soul for the rest of the day and cause intense anxiety.

Today is the day I am saying, I have had enough. I am speaking out. I will win this Appeal case which will give me my life back, my son back in genuine safety, but also speak volumes to other women in my shoes. I have never loved so hard until I became a Mom. It’s a love so deep that I would fight for my son’s saftey until my last breath.

I am a DV survivor! The Lord set me free and I’m living in the fullness and goodness of whom He is and who I am! I have so much joy and feel so much love in my life now! I’m so thankful I ESCAPED when I did. I am truly living my best life now!

I met this boy in the 8th grade and he was two years older than me. We started dating when I got into high school. We lived close to each other, practically neighbors. It was your typical young, dumb, and crazy obsessed including on my part… I didn’t know any better. I thought it was okay to be this crazy in love at the age of 14 years old. I had my first kiss with this boy at 14 years old and he had me hooked since. I lost my virginity with this boy when I was shy of 15 years old. I didn’t want to have sex so young but he made me think “Well, it’s okay. We’re getting married one day.” If I didn’t have sex with him, it felt as if he would leave me for another girl. After physical intimacy, things started to get controlling and obsessive. Jealousy started. Things started to spiral fast. Name calling. Calling and texting multiple times about my location. I felt as if I was owned by him and I was okay with that. He made me feel like that was okay.

One day at school, before class started…we got into a fight over something dumb. At this point in our relationship, I was afraid of him. I was afraid to make him upset. I was afraid to get him mad. He wanted me to be scared of him. The first time I felt scared was THIS DAY.

I ran from him and went into the Girls Restroom at school (thinking he wouldn’t come in) and I was holding the door trying to not let him get in and he kicked the door down and there goes head into the door…. I was in the floor, blood all in my eyes, I couldn’t see but I felt him standing over me. I was unconscious. He picked me up and lied to people saying the hinges on the door broke. From that point on, I felt like I had to lie about everything he did… to protect him. He would apologize and cry.. begging me to stay. Then do something again and again and again. I will spare you the details while in high school. I was a little girl with a big heart. My parents made me ‘break up’ with him so I did. During this time without him in high school, I was very depressed. No one knew. I wanted to commit suicide. I felt like I physically couldn’t breathe without him… but this is how he made me feel. Completely lost and broken without him. I wasn’t raised in an ideal home either… looking back, he took advantage of that too.

Time goes on, I move on. I got into heavy drinking and partying. I went to parties where people would pass around pills and get high constantly. This is how I ‘numbed my pain’ was to drink it away. Behind close doors, my ex boyfriend would tell people to feel sorry for me because I was so ‘broken’ and ‘helpless’ …that’s how people would treat me in high school because of what he said about me. Rumors upon rumors upon rumors. If he couldn’t have me, no one could. He wanted to create this image to people about me. I was constantly depressed but always with a smile on my face. I didn’t want to live anymore, it got so bad. Still, I didn’t know any better. I thought something was always wrong with me.

2-3 years go by. I move out of my parent’s house my senior year in high school, not a great decision but things got really bad in the home I was living in. I moved in with my friend. I started thinking about this boy again, feeling vulnerable and alone. He got news I wasn’t living at home anymore… now was his chance to come back into my ‘broken and helpless’ life to come save and rescue me. This was always a good tactic of his.

We get back together. I was 18 years old when we did, he was 20 years old. Again, it was really great AT FIRST… then a couple years go by and I’m married at the age of 21. Locked in. Caged up. Trapped. Thinking things would change. Thinking he was a changed man because he was more mature. Thinking it wasn’t going to be like high school again. Things got worse. Isolation from friends and family. Name calling. Things were always thrown at me. Things were always punched (he had to get surgery on one hand for punching something so hard). Reckless driving when he was mad… many bent steering wheels. When reckless driving would occur, I would have to accept the fact there was a chance of me dying that day. Finances were controlled. Financial decisions were made without me. Yet, I had to ask him if I could buy a shirt that was on sale. Many threats. He would talk down to me as if I was stupid every single day of my life. He was proud to be a naturally, angry person. He was proud that people were scared of him and gave the “Don’t mess with me or mine” persona. I was numb to the pain. I was living in hell while trying to live for Jesus all at the same time.

I gave my life to Jesus Christ before we got married. The more I learned about the love of Jesus for me, it didn’t make sense why my husband couldn’t love me like that? My grace for him grew. My love for him grew. My second chances for him turned into hundreds of chances. I became a worship leader for my church. People loved him. He was a great friend to everyone. He was great with kids and kids loved him.

For years, I was alone. My closest, closest friends nor family knew what was happening behind the scenes. How could I come forth with this? How could a Christian go through a divorce? I was a worship leader at my church. My family loved him. His family loved me. How? It was many, many, many, days and nights of praying by myself with the Lord. Crying and weeping out. Praying for him. Praying for him to change his ways so he would stop hurting me emotionally and physically. I was a patient, devoted, praying, good wife. That’s all I wanted to be. It was a rollercoaster. But enough was enough. I got smart. I listened more to Holy Spirit about my life. I had to tell someone. The first person I told were my co workers. I found my voice. I found my confidence. I was bold. I was strong.

Three years later… I am a DV survivor! I found freedom! I found forgiveness in him and myself. There is zero bitterness in my heart. I am the happiest I have ever been in my whole life. I live with so much peace. The past is gone. I don’t re-live my past because there is no need. The past is dead to me. I will always reflect but never dwell. Jesus saved me and I’m so glad I gave Him my life…. He has completely transformed me!

Three years later… I’m getting married to the greatest, most sweetest man this year! The greatest human I’ve ever met in my life. At 27 years old, I am where I’m supposed to be… and God gets the glory!

*Trigger Warning*

This post is really long & about my experience with Domestic Violence, abuse & animal cruelty. It may be distressing to someone who has experienced these things hence the trigger warning if you choose to read this.

I’m breaking my silence & telling my truth about my relationship with my ex wife. This will be the only post I make about it. After this, I will not post or speak of her again as it doesn’t help my healing process or self care. I also want to say from this moment forward, I don’t even want to hear about the awful things being posted or said about me because that doesn’t help with healing & moving forward either.

I had disassociated for years & been silent about the things I went through. After a recent event involving my ex wife (which I’m not going into details) a lot of my memories came flooding back. That relationship caused me some PTSD & Anxiety.

I left a very dangerous & DV relationship March 5, 2022. It was years of verbal, emotional & psychological abuse that turned physical at times.

I left after nearly being choked to death. I still tried to make a friendship work with her because I loved her. (Yes, even after the choking.) I loved the good times. I thought if we were separated, that things would get better for a friendship. That was not the case.

In all abusive relationships, it’s about manipulation & control. It doesn’t always start out that way. It’s a slow process of a lot of grooming & love bombing that turns into silent treatment, belittling, berating, isolating, triangulating, gaslighting, name calling, hoovering, lying, controlling, manipulation, aggression, threatening, yelling, hostility, anger & pure rage. It’s a repetitive cycle & I experienced all of this & more.

My reacting to the abuse was just that, reacting. Which is something I’m working on now, how to respond instead of react to awful situations. I was videotaped reacting countless times. She would turn the camera off to continue provoking me. The time she choked me, I was only able to get her off of me by punching her. She took pictures of the bruises for “proof.”
I went into this relationship completely naive about relationships & especially naive about abusive relationships & DV.

This was the first long term relationship I ever had with a woman. I believed the stories she would tell me about how everyone in her life (family, friends & exes) all abused her, caused her harm, all exes cheated, everyone else was always to blame, etc. I could go on but you get the drift. I believed this because she seemed so innocent, sweet, loving & I thought, “I’m not like that, she’ll be safe with me & my family/friends.”
I was very naive to think that way.

She now tells people that I am one of those “crazy, abusive, cheating exes”.  All I can say is in retrospect, the things said to me in the beginning were huge red flags that I completely ignored. And during that time, I lacked some serious boundaries. These things happened to me but I’m working through it. I could write a novel on everything that happened & I have a lot of journal entries of what happened because I was constantly told that the things said or done didn’t happen, that I was delusional or crazy. (Gaslighting).

I want to apologize to anyone who still sees these things that she posts about me & my family. It’s all part of the smear campaign she’s created since I’ve been no contact. She actually started a smear campaign early in our relationship about me to her family & friends & would say the most horrendous things about me. A lot of it was distorted truth or downright lies, that I’ve spent a lot of my time & energy wondering why anyone would choose to say those things or behave like that. I’ve decided to no longer waste my time or energy trying to figure it out & move on.
I was ready to file for divorce in early September 2022 but then her mother passed away. I decided not to file & to be there for her because that’s what friends do, support each other.

I stopped talking to her on October 2, 2022, after being verbally assaulted. (It was the worst thing she’s ever said to me & doesn’t need repeating)

I filed for divorce on October 14, 2022 after another verbally assaultive situation. I experienced a range of emotions about it but decided it was for the best. That’s also when I blocked her on all social media.

On October 15, 2022, She texted me to tell me her dog died & I texted my sympathies.

The only thing I’m going to say about that is she was handed the rat poison & told many times to not let the dog get to it. This was on September 26, 2022. The dog ingested the poison on October 7, 2022 & again on October 15, 2022 & passed away. Rat poison was not laid out from the landlord & there is a lot of messages from her stating she “took care of the mouse problem & the landlord was not aloud over there.” The poison was handed to her. I was also sent horrific videos of the dog dying (without consent), which was very disturbing & I will never be able to get those images out of my head.

I decided from then on that I was going no contact, not only for my safety & sanity but to move on with my life. She tried texting me several times during my no contact period, saying some very vile & untrue things to try to get a reaction out if me. It didn’t work. (I’ll be completely honest & Most of the residual romantic feelings I had for her “died” the day the dog died.)
On January 3, 2023, I was granted my divorce.
My cat passed away January 4, 2023. His passing was such a huge loss to me. I’m still grieving & mourning his death.

On January 6, 2023, she sent me the nastiest texts about My cat dying& I broke no contact to send a courtesy message, nothing more. After another nasty message from her, I told her to lose my number & that’s when I decided to block her phone.

No contact started again that day, January 6, 2023. “No contact is a boundary that is set with a toxic person to end the relationship & to protect someone from further abuse & manipulation. No contact is not a form of manipulation & is not abuse. It’s not meant to be temporary. It’s a definite end to the relationship.”
All of this happened to me. It’s a painful part of my story but I’m safe now, happy to be moving forward, processing & working through this in therapy. I also know there can be retaliation from opening up like this & sharing my truth. I’m taking all necessary precautions to ensure my safety.

I’m making this post to share my story, break my silence, bring awareness to verbal & emotional abuse & show that domestic violence is very real & can happen to anyone, gay or straight. Maybe sharing my story, my experience can help someone who is experiencing the same thing & maybe even give them the courage to leave like I did.

it all started when i was a freshman in high school, i had to do drivers ed a week before school started and that’s where i met him instantly we connected he was so sweet and so nice, when we would be leaving drivers ed he would wait outside with me until my mom got there to get me, then one day he asked me for my snapchat and i gave it to him, that was the worst mistake of my life.

we started texting and talking all the time when school started he would walk me to my classes and just treated me amazing, one sigh i wish i would’ve realized sooner is he was love bombing me 2 weeks into knowing him but i would just tell my friends “that’s good he cares about me”. everything was good until he saw me talking to one of my guy friends in the hallway he didn’t talk to me rest of that day and ignored me, it upset me that night at 11 he texted me wanting to know who he was and everything about him i thought things it get better after that but no they got worse.

i thought i was inlove with him a month into dating, because he love bombed me that hard and just said and did all the right things to make me fall for him. then one day it just stopped it started by him not letting me talk to my guy friends at school anymore if i saw them i had to ignore them, he would tell me what i could and couldn’t wear, told me who i could and couldn’t hang out with, had to tell him when i was leaving my house, made me call him when i would talk to my parents so he could listen to our conversation and so much more. my friends started questioning my behavior because i was always down and never talked anymore the only person i would talk to is my boyfriend.

as time went on more people started to notice my family, my friends, hell people i didn’t even know we’re messaging me asking if i was ok. i always told me yes because i didn’t want them to worry about me, me knowing that if i didn’t get help i was going to be stuck in this i was to scared to say something because my bf would always get mad when i did he started off by just yelling at me and we would scream in each others face until we couldn’t breath, then he would throw stuff at me, he would take my phone and threaten to smash it. then one night came and i made him mad because i didn’t want to have sex and he held me down and forced himself on me. the abuse just got worse from there i would have bruises all over my body that makeup couldn’t cover, i would have to always wear hoodies and sweat pants, i was scared i didn’t know what to do.

when i finally knew i needed to leave or he was going to kill me was when he shot up my house and held a gun to my head and told me he was going to kill me, after he left i decided i needed to leave, i told my family everything he did to me and they helped me leave. i ended up getting and restraining order on him for my safety cause he would always text me on different numbers saying he was going to kill me and my family and burn down my house with me in it. teen moms if you are reading this please check up on your daughters that are in relationships abuse can be right there and you not even notice it, keep in mind abusive comes in many ways then just one. if your struggling with this kind of situation you need to leave yes it will be hard but your safety is more important then anything.

I was 15, I was moving to a new town, I didn’t wanna be that new kid that came in halfway through the semester. I found him. I had just had my heart “broken” for the first time, consistently cheated on, I was young. I didn’t know love was supposed to pain free, I thought it was supposed to be like this, I thought it was supposed to be consistent arguing, consistent pain, never happy. I was never taught better.

I was 15. He was 18, he was the popular wrestler, his dad worked at the school, his whole family was loved, the “it” family of our school – community. I was 15. The relationship started out good, he showed me loved, he enjoyed my body when I felt like no one else would, so I thought. The arguments started to arise over me not skipping school, me not smoking with him, me wanting time without every friend we had around, because I didn’t want him accepting nudes from other girls, and so on and so on. The first time I looked at his phone, other girls after other girls after other girls, I asked him about, he said he was just being friendly, he said that I was dramatic, he said that he only wanted friends, he said that if I had an issue I could leave. I had no one, everyone I knew was in a totally different state. I was 15. He made me believe that it was him or nothing. All the friends I made, were through him in one way or another.

He isolated me, he told me so often that my friends in another state would just abandon me so I instead abandoned me before I could feel the pain of abandonment from them. The first argument we had in person, he said he could kill me if he wanted to, that he could and would seriously f— me up if I continued. I thought he was just mad at me, I was only 15. 16 comes along, I’m in my junior year of high-school, I felt so isolated from everyone that I’d never go to school, I’d skip to hangout with him. I dropped out. I instead decided to get my GED and that we would move in together.

He faked it so well, my parents, my ex-cop dad and my previously in a abusive relationship mom, both did not think he could ever hurt me, damage me in the ways he did. We rented a camper, moved it onto my parents property, things were okay, we lived together, I was away from my parents, he was away from his, we were “adults”. I was 16.

His drug abuse increased, anything he could get his hands on, any alcohol, any pills, anything. I felt like I had to supply, steal my parents pain killers, go broke, consistently work crazy jobs and keep an flow of money coming in to help him, because he couldn’t “handle life” without them. I’d be hungry. I was only 16. I was alone. The first time he ever hit me, he was drinking with my friend, I drove them to get weed, once we got back to my friend’s place he jumped out the car so I went to get him, he fell into a ditch, I was trying to help him up, he wanted to stay there, I just tried to help, instead I ended up under him, him pulling my hair, him putting me in a choke hold and threatening that if I ever did that again, it’d just be worse. If I ever helped again. I was only 16.

The second time he hit me was in the car, driving, we argued, I said something that he didn’t like, he slammed my head into the window until there was blood. He then drove erratically, making a turn too late and almost hitting a steam roller into my side of the car. I wish that would’ve happened then. I wish it ever so perfectly that I wasn’t in that car anymore.

The next time I was hiding in our bathroom after an argument to try to settle down before even trying to speak any, he came in anyways, with a belt, repeatedly hitting me in the head with the buckle until it was covered with chunks of skin and blood. I was too depressed to even get out of bed most days let alone fight back, I let it happen. If I fought back it only would’ve gotten worse. The times like this proceeded where he’d get drunk or high and become out of control, hitting me, bruising me, raping me to the point of becoming unconscious. The first time he raped me I had taken some edibles, I was just trying to sleep, instead he was on top of me, me telling him to stop, me begging him to stop, instead I was met with “I liked it anyways”. I was too messed up to say no, that he was my boyfriend I had to let it happen. I couldn’t fight back. I just laid there, tears rolling down my face, blankly staring at the wall until it stopped, falling in and out of sleep until it started to hurt again. Every time after that he wanted anything I just laid there, I just let him do whatever because if I didn’t want it, I’d just be made to it anyways, but he’d be mad, so it’d hurt instead. I was only 16.

During these times I wrote more suicide notes than I could ever count or even remember, I wanted to be off this earth so bad but I knew that I couldn’t leave my family blaming themselves for not seeing, for not recognizing the signs. They’d always joke oh you’re not hitting her right, when they’d see the bruises, it was laughed off as I slowly started to cover myself more and more. The night that did the most damage, I was drunk, to the point of barely even able to stand. I just tried to go to sleep, I told him no. Instead of just having his way with me, he’d pick me up and throw me out the door, onto cement blocks, I’d crawl inside begging to go to sleep, he’d throw me again. At one point I could hear my mom letting her dogs out as I laid there behind the blocks, all I wanted to do was screaming for my mom to help, I just couldn’t get the words out, I just couldn’t. I laid there until she went back in and then tried to crawl back in again, covered in blood and mud, instead it repeatedly happened. I gave up. I passed out outside, wet and cold, in my own blood and tears. I woke up before the sunrise, snuck in and showered and made myself presentable with hoodies, pants, and socks. to cover every inch he hurt, if it wasn’t covered with clothes, I’d color correct, I’d put concealer and foundation down to my shoulder blades so they couldn’t see the bruises from his fingers from where he’d strangle me the nights before, I’d make it to where it was invisible with makeup or it looked like a scratch a cat could’ve done or a bruise where I could’ve easily blamed it on hitting my head on a bunk we had.

There were also other people who’d satisfy him, I was never enough, I never understood why I was never enough, to love, to be okay with just me. It never stopped. I was only 16.