Run And Tell On Him
I had my first serious (as serious as it can be at 14 years old) relationship starting my 8th grade year of middle school after a move to NJ from NC.
I Had always been very apprehensive towards dating, due to sexual abuse by two older boys next door growing up; that took me years to come clean about. I’m not sure how I survived that trauma because when I read similar stories on the internet, I see people using alcohol and drugs to keep their minds numb so they don’t feel anything or forget everything for a while. Many have to see therapists talk about the traumatic incidents or get admitted into rehabilitation centers like https://www.aristarecovery.com/ to overcome their drug and alcohol dependency caused by such abuses. However, I consider myself fortunate that I never became involved in these activities. Though I am still afraid of many things and people, I am grateful that I was able to overcome my fear to a large extent on my own.
And when I met this boy at such a tender age and emotional turning point in my life, I felt I was ready to date.
My parents and siblings did not like him but couldn’t pinpoint why; I thought I loved him. He wrote me poetry, played guitar, and would surprise me with love notes and flowers. Great, right? The way he wrote me poems, I assumed that he might turn out to be a poetry editor in the future. Then a few months into the relationship, we got physically curious and wanted to take it to the next level. I stupidly lost my virginity to him and everything went to hell after that day.
He started to question what I was doing when we weren’t together, expecting sex all of the time like he was in some https://www.hdpornvideo.xxx/?hl=hi movie, and telling me things just to hurt me. He cheated on me one day, I went to his house right when he got home from betraying me without my knowledge of it yet and told me to sniff his hands because they smelled weird. Turns out he had foreplay with her. I was wrecked, I was convinced I would never go back to him. But I did. He convinced me we should have “make up sex” but half way through I said no. He sped things up and the condom broke. He swore no matter what happened, he would be there.
I found out 2 months later that I was pregnant.
Two of my girlfriends took me to what turned out to be a pro life clinic. The woman who tested me smirked as she told me to think of the father and brought out a jar of an embalmed 8 week old fetus to show me what was growing inside of me. When I told him, he immediately got violent.
He told me he would kill me, that he would bury me alive, that he would do an abortion on me himself if I didn’t find a way to get one.
We met up to talk face to face and he tried to stab me in my stomach.
I was terrified, and more so, I was frozen. I could not stand up or speak for myself. He would have his friends watch me at school to make sure I wasn’t talking to any friends. He would also have himself and his friends randomly find me when alone at school and kick me in the crotch and would threaten me if I told anyone. Still, I was frozen. I tried to go get an abortion 3 times and each time, my mother would call me for me to come home. Finally, my parents found out. When we made a OBGYN appt, it was found that if I were to go through with the pregnancy, there was an 80% chance that me or the baby or both of us would not live through it because of how small I am and that I wasn’t done growing. I felt devastated. My mother is very religious and I felt like I let her down.
I had fantasies of being a mom, but knew I would be held down by my boyfriend’s chains if I kept this child. I had to have the abortion and it was the single most traumatizing day of my life. I broke up with him after that and never looked back.
Domestic violence does not have to be physical. It is an emotional and mental act of warfare as well. Men and women, young and old, suffer from this everyday. If I could give advice to myself back then, I would plead with myself to run and tell on him. Abuse is not a secret. It is never okay. It is never warranted. Thank you for letting me share my story.
**************
In Addition/Update:
I am now 27yrs old with a beautiful 2yr old boy and another boy due Nov. 25th of this year. I plan to teach my sons about respect for their own bodies and those of others. I will be honest about my experiences. I will not be afraid anymore. There is life after such devastation. My husband is such an amazing role model to our boy, and he is such a strong support for me. He changed my mind about everyone being out to get me. Not all men are the same. But no life or value should be placed on a man alone. The strength is inside of all of us. Cherish it.
-Molly D.
1 Comment