Background

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I was not abused by a member of my family.

I was not abused by a stranger in the streets.

I was not abused by a teacher, coach, or an adult I trusted.

I was abused by a boyfriend.

 

I was 18 years old, a senior in high school, homecoming queen, and voted “Most School Spirit” in my class yearbook. Things were looking pretty great for me that last year of High School. I was hanging out with friends, going to all the school functions, attending all the school games, and just enjoying my senior year as much as possible. However, I was lonely. Out most of my friends, I was the only one without a boyfriend. I tagged along with all the couples to the games, movies, and parties. As much fun as I was having that year, I really wanted to feel what all my friends were feeling. I wanted the butterflies and the up all night phone calls. I never really dated much. I had boyfriends here and there, but nothing really special. I had a fling with one of my close guy friends, Stephen, on and off since freshmen year, but we had never seriously dated. Once the holiday season started rolling in and snow started covering the ground, I was starting to get lonelier. That’s when I started to talk to him.

Before I continue, this was one of the mistakes in my life I truly regret. This doesn’t mean I deserved what followed from this guy, but it’s just one thing that I will never do again. Don’t date someone just because you’re lonely. Date someone because you want to be them.

I met “Drew” years before; we rode the bus together throughout grade school until he graduated. He was two years older. He wasn’t exactly my “Prince Charming” but I didn’t want to be lonely anymore.

Drew messaged me on Facebook and so our story began…

imagesCA7MRD4THe wasn’t like most guys I had gone out with in the past. He was a quieter, really shy, and a little more pessimistic. I had always dated athletes and jocks. He was neither. He was living with his parents, going to a community college nearby, and had no hopes and dreams about his future. That soon changed after we started dating. He started trying to control me. He became possessive and after two weeks of dating, told me that he knew he wanted to marry me and be with each other forever. I was only 18; I wasn’t making plans for forever. It was hard enough to see past Friday nights, let alone, forever. No one had ever said something like that to me, as much as it startled me, it made me feel special.

Drew knew that I had never been serious with a guy before. He knew that I was vulnerable and going through a lot of stress getting ready to graduate and make plans for college. He also knew that I was feeling pretty low about myself. And he used that against me.

The first two weeks we dated, were pure bliss. He was nice to me, always complimenting me, buying me flowers and gifts, taking me out to dinner, and posting on Facebook how happy and lucky he was to have found me. He told me he loved me. I felt special, important, and something that I had been longing for, wanted. I had always struggled with feeling wanted in life. He was starting to make me feel like that.

imagesCAD44Y3SThen things changed.

He started getting mad at me all the time. He cried almost every single day, multiple times a day. He made me feel guilty for wanting to hang out with my friends. He made me feel guilty for wanting to just spend some time with my family and not hang out with him one night. He would have these fits of rage and start crying, demanding I leave where ever I was and come to him because he needed me. I felt bad all the time. He was always complaining about something I did, something I said, what I was wearing, how I was wearing my hair, too much makeup, not enough makeup, eating too much, not eating enough, talking to my friends too much. He timed how long it took me to drive to school and back. He would accuse me of seeing other people or hanging out with my friends if it took me even two minutes longer than it should have. He yelled at me every day and every night. He made fun of me all the time. He would scream in my face, calling me hurtful names. Telling me I was lucky he even wanted me because no one else would ever want me. I foolishly believed every word that he said. No guy had ever told me he loved me before. I thought love couldn’t lie. I thought love didn’t hurt. But, he didn’t love me. He was obsessed with me.

But it didn’t stop there.imagesCA3TVARS

He started grabbing my wrists when he screamed in my face. He’d shove me into the corner of his basement until I winced. Then he would smile, give me a hug and then tell me he loved me. That was just the beginning though. The weeks that followed were full of blows towards my body and my pride. I fought back as much as I could. But, it got useless towards the end. He always over powered me. He was older, bigger, and stronger than I was. I remember the last week we were together, I just sat there, on the edge of his bed, didn’t even put up an arm to defend myself, when he slapped me across the face for receiving a text from “Stephen” asking about the homework assignment.

imagesCAM3VBL1But it didn’t stop there.

After about three weeks of us being together, he escalated very quickly. It was by far, one of the worst nights in my entire life. We had one of our biggest fights ever that night. We were screaming at each other trying to prove our own points. I don’t quite remember what the fight was initially about. I do remember that I was trying to stand up for myself. In the middle of the fight, my mom called to see how late I would be. I told her I wouldn’t be late, exchanged “I love you” and hung up.  Drew was furious with me for answering the phone when he was in the middle of talking to me. He ripped the phone out of my hands and threw it across the room. It hit the basement walls and then fell to the floor, where my iPhone screen shattered. He got really violent that night. I remember him grabbing me on the arms and continued shoving me into the wall that my phone had hit. I was crying at this point. I told him I was sorry and he stopped and apologized and kissed me. We went upstairs to his living room. I remember him putting in the movie “Salt” he had rented from Netflix. We laid on the couch and started to watch it. My body hurt all over. My head was throbbing. My stomach was tossing and turning with nausea. I was so tired from fighting. Within 10 minutes of the movie, I started to fall asleep. I don’t know how long I was out for. All I know is that when I awoke, I was now in a nightmare. Only I wasn’t sleeping, so I couldn’t escape by waking up.

Before I opened my eyes, I could feel that I wasn’t on the couch anymore. I could hear Drew’s bedroom door knob locking. I could smell his sweat as he came closer to me. I could taste the musty air of his bedroom. When I opened my eyes, Drew had started undressing himself. I had never seen him undress before. We had only made out. I wasn’t ready to have sex with him. I was confused. I didn’t know how I got into his room to begin with, or why I was even there. I started to sit up, to ask him why, when he jumped at the edge of his bed. “What’s going on?” I asked him, “How did I get into your room?” I demanded. I was starting to get nervous, but I didn’t know why. “I want to show you just how much I love you.”  he hissed back at me. “I want to f&*% you until you feel how much I love you.”  My stomach started twisting in knots. My heart started throbbing. “I’m not ready to have to sex with you. I’m so sorry. I don’t want to just yet. I want to wait until we’ve dated longer. We’ve barely been together a month. I just think -”  I was cut off by him grabbing my legs from the end of his bed where he stood. “Drew, I’m serious.” “Stop!”  “No!”  Each time I protested I was cut off by his selfish and demanding words. I’m not going to go into detail about what he did to me. But I will say, he didn’t stop.images

My story continues, but this is just the background of my relationship with Drew. Going forward, I was able to escape the abuse and end the relationship with Drew. I will continue to post more about what happened in my relationship with him, along with ways that help get me through recovering from it.

I am not a victim to anyone or anything.

I am a survivor.

To anyone who is reading this blog and has been hurt by someone in their life, you are not alone. It is not your fault that they hurt you. You did not deserve to be violated. Don’t believe what those terrible people said to you. You are beautiful. You are worth a hell of a lot more than those that hurt you! Believe in yourself. Recovery from the abuse isn’t easy. But if you are strong enough to survive the abuse, then you are strong enough to recover. 

No one has the right to hurt you in any way. 

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To finding hope,

Just Meg

xoxo

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