**The following is written by a survivor of domestic violence and abuse, recounting their story. Descriptions and details may be too graphic for some. Names have been changed to protect all involved.**<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The summer before freshman year, I moved to a new school. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I didn\u2019t know anyone, didn\u2019t understand the system, and felt like I was completely starting over. But eventually, I found my people. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I became close with a friend who, at one point, opened up to me about a relationship she had recently ended. It had lasted about eight months, and she told me it was abusive. Her boyfriend had pressured her into doing things she wasn\u2019t comfortable with\u2014sexual things\u2014and never seemed to want to spend time with her unless it was for that. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
But still, she stayed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She said it didn\u2019t start that way. They were friends first, and things felt good in the beginning. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
But eventually, it turned into something that made her feel small. I remember listening to her story and thinking, that couldn\u2019t be me. And if it ever was, I\u2019d just leave. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I wouldn\u2019t let someone treat me like that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Fast forward to the summer before junior year\u2014I met someone. We started talking, and eventually dating. Things felt different in a good way. We didn\u2019t rush into anything, and it didn\u2019t feel overwhelming. We took our time. Their friends told me I was helping them become a better person. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
They made me feel seen and valued. It felt like something healthy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
About ten months in, they started to feel distant. They weren\u2019t warm or expressive anymore. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
They told me everything was fine, but their actions made me feel like I had to be careful, like I was constantly on edge. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
At the same time, their parents made it clear they didn\u2019t approve of me. They made comments about my race, about the scars on my body. At one point, they even told my partner that they thought I was a lovely girl, but that I was \u201cfucked in the head.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That was devastating to hear\u2014especially after everything I had done to be kind and thoughtful toward them. I\u2019d bring over baked goods, pick up medicine when someone was sick, buy groceries. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I tried to push it all aside, thinking maybe it would pass, but it was clear their parents\u2019 disapproval was wearing on my partner, too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Soon, their behavior started to change. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
They got angry with me over little things, if I got a B on an exam, missed an assignment, or forgot something small. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
At the time, I was struggling with untreated ADHD, but instead of showing understanding, they mocked me for it. They embarrassed me in front of our friends\u2014making disgusted faces at me, saying \u201cew, get away\u201d while laughing. They turned me into a joke, and I convinced myself it was just the stress from their parents that was making them act that way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then they got injured\u2014sprained their ankle and couldn\u2019t drive. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was in the process of buying my own car, but in the meantime, I used theirs to drive us to school.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Their parents expected me to take over everything. I was suddenly responsible for their rides to practice, to clubs, to friend hangouts\u2014even ones I wasn\u2019t invited to. I changed my whole routine for them, thinking maybe if I did enough, they\u2019d go back to treating me the way they used to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One week, I still had their car, and while it was parked\u2014without me in it\u2014it was hit by another car. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I told them right away, and at first, they said it was okay. But a few days later, they messaged me while I was at work, saying it was my fault and that I had to pay for the damage. I was shocked. Confused. But I pulled together some cash, went to their house, and gave it to their parents, apologizing. I left quickly before I got too upset.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Later that night, their dad screamed at me\u2014for trying to come back and calmly talk things through. He yelled at me to get out, told me I was dirty, said I was never welcome in their house again. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
My partner didn\u2019t come downstairs. Didn\u2019t speak up. Didn\u2019t defend me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And then, as if that wasn\u2019t enough, they told our mutual friends over the phone that night that they didn\u2019t care if I hurt myself. They said it wasn\u2019t their responsibility, even though we were still together, and I had reached out for help.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When I told them, they broke up with me. But just two days after, they kissed me. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
They said maybe we could try again if things went well, which made me feel like I had to walk on even sharper eggshells to make sure I didn\u2019t do anything to hurt them or make them mad at me. I was confused, but I wanted to believe them. They said they didn\u2019t love me anymore, then took it back. We got back together\u2014but only briefly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then they gave me an ultimatum. They said if I didn\u2019t get an abortion, they\u2019d never speak to me again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That they\u2019d carry hate for me forever. They even told people they hoped I would miscarry. They told me to my face that they wanted to stress me out so much that I would.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And they showed it. They\u2019d slam doors near me, drive recklessly to scare me\u2014speeding, swerving. They grabbed my arms once when I said I wasn\u2019t sure what I was going to do, just to scare me into making the decision they wanted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eventually, I took the pills for the abortion. But the instructions I received were unclear, and it didn\u2019t go as planned. One night, I was home alone, in excruciating pain, bleeding uncontrollably. I texted them asking for help\u2014to drive me to the hospital so I wouldn\u2019t have to call 911.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They said they were going to bed. It was 9:45 PM on a weekend.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I ended up needing surgery. I was carrying twins, and they were about 12 to 14 weeks developed. After the procedure, I was able to see them and carry them in a small surgical tray. I went through all of it alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Afterwards, I tried to lean on them for support. I thought they\u2019d follow through on what they promised\u2014that if I did what they wanted, we could try again. But they didn\u2019t want to be there emotionally\u2014only physically. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
And I accepted it, thinking maybe it would be enough to make them love me again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And maybe they did. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
But they pushed that care down so far, because their parents disapproved. Any time I expressed hurt, they\u2019d twist the situation around, make me feel like it was my fault. That I wasn\u2019t enough. That I drove them to act the way they did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was emotionally drained. My friends had been begging me for months to walk away, to go no contact. And finally\u2014I did. I ended it in one text. And even though I was heartbroken, I felt relief and like I regained back some of the power that I lost.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That summer, I changed. I matured. I found happiness again\u2014real happiness. And even though I wish I had left sooner, I\u2019m proud that I left at all. That I survived. That I rebuilt myself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I think back to the girl I was freshman year\u2014the one who said, \u201cThat could never be me.\u201d And now I know\u2026 it was me. I just didn\u2019t recognize it until I finally stepped away. Until I stopped justifying, stopped making excuses, and saw things clearly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
If you’re hearing this and you’re unsure about your situation\u2014if something feels off, if you find yourself constantly explaining someone else\u2019s behavior\u2014please trust that feeling. Abuse doesn\u2019t always look obvious. It doesn\u2019t always start loud. Sometimes it grows quietly, underneath moments that once felt like love.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
You deserve safety. You deserve peace. You deserve to be believed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Check These Resources:<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Support Line<\/a> By Survivor Maliehe **The following is written by a survivor of domestic violence and abuse, recounting their story. Descriptions and details may be too graphic for some. Names have been changed to protect all involved.** The summer before freshman year, I moved to a new school. I didn\u2019t know anyone, didn\u2019t understand the system, and […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":20430,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6,344],"tags":[161,162,90,116,115,374,95,128,34],"class_list":["post-20429","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-break-your-silence","category-survivor-stories","tag-break-the-silence-against-domestic-violence","tag-btsadv","tag-domestic-violence","tag-emotional-abuse","tag-survivor","tag-survivor-stories","tag-survivor-story","tag-trauma","tag-verbal-abuse"],"yoast_head":"\n\n
Other Resources and Information:<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n\n