Speaking Out

I went through a lot of crap and I won’t be disclosing details of it but I was in a physically and mentally abusive relationship for about 4 years. It didn’t start off bad but it ended horrible. Why am I writing about this? Because writing is my favorite outlet for everything. Because someone could be going through the same things that I did and not see a way out. Because it’s important for me to get things out and not keep it all bottled in. I don’t want to spontaneously combust/explode/have a massive freak out and end up on the 7^th floor of some far away hospital in a comatose state.

In this particular relationship, I should have known. And that is one of my constant struggles to this day. I am a very intelligent woman. That is one thing no one can ever make me feel less at. I am smart. I might not like my looks or my eating habits or my singing voice but damn it if someone tells me I am stupid I will never fall for it. I was 18 when I started dating the abuser and I had horrible self-esteem issues even back then. I never was satisfied with the way I looked and that’s one of the reasons I settled on dating this person. I was never physically attracted to him. Looking back, he wasn’t even very nice or supportive. I just knew he would stay with me (partially because I gave him a home and food and everything else essential to survival) so I stayed with him. 

He had a temper and I was well aware of this a few months into dating him. He would scream at me when we had arguments and I wasn’t aware this wasn’t exactly the normal thing to do, but it isn’t. You shouldn’t get off on yelling at another person or making them feel like complete and utter shit by name calling or whatever else. But he did. I am convinced he enjoyed it. 

He asked me to marry him after a huge fight and he didn’t get down on one knee like they do in storybooks and he didn’t even have a ring. He was scared I was going to break up with him and I should have. But I didn’t. If you’re thinking here it’s because I am stupid, once again, I am not. This is why I am still so puzzled as to why I stayed around. I think this morning I finally figured it out. I wanted to be loved. And even though this person treated me like crap and called me so many names (worthless, fat, ugly, stupid) in some way deep down I really believed he loved me and just had a bad temper. He always apologized. He always seemed genuinely sorry for what he said and how he said things and that he didn’t even mean what he said, he was just upset. So, I always believed things would change and eventually he would stop being so mean to me. But nothing changed. Not for the better anyways. 

Around the time we were supposed to get married he started in with the physical abuse. I still remember the very first time, it isn’t something you forget. I’ve heard of people blacking out memories or simply pushing them so far to the back of their mind that they sort of fade away, but always linger there. Not me. I remember everything. Nothing has faded in my mind. It was a punch to the stomach. That was the very first time he went too far when we were arguing. 

And we argued all the time. That isn’t a healthy relationship. That’s not something that a good marriage is founded or based on. Even without the physical abuse, I should have left. I should have left when I could.

The punch in the stomach was the first but not the last time. This went on and on and he always would just cry like a baby after he did it. He would sob and tell me how much he loved me and he didn’t know why he was so mean to me. He blamed it on a friend who died. He blamed it on an old drug addiction. He blamed it on his stepdad. He blamed it on everything and everyone but himself. 

This went on and on and I told him I didn’t want to get married and I was done. He told me not getting married wasn’t an option and if I didn’t marry him things were going to get a lot worse. He made a lot of threats that I won’t talk about on here but they scared me enough to stay in the relationship and ultimately get married to him.

I never knew what feeling truly alone was like. I had been alone when my family went on vacation and I had prior commitments. I had been alone in other ways, too. But this type of alone was unlike any other. I had no one. I wanted to say something to anyone but I couldn’t. I was so powerless and that is a really hard thing for me to admit. It makes me feel really bad about myself and humiliated, really. There were so many times I wanted to go to my mom or my cousin or just anyone who I knew would be able to end this but I just couldn’t and I didn’t and I dealt with a lot more than anyone should ever have to in a situation like that. 

Fast forward to the morning I woke up. 

I felt different this time. I woke up and I just knew something needed to change because if it didn’t I would end up dead by his hand or my own. 

I was scared and confused and just really uncomfortable but I was also tired. I was very, very tired of the lies and the pretending and the faking happiness. I couldn’t do it anymore. 

I still remember telling my mom I wanted a divorce. I remember not telling her why. I couldn’t do it. I thought it would be a giant disappointment to her and I couldn’t stomach the humility and failure.

I still remember finally admitting that I was abused. How I thought it would be freeing but it just made me feel so awful. 

But eventually, in time, I woke up again.

This time I woke up and I was lying in bed and I thought about how all the mornings before I felt so shitty. I felt used. And upset. And I felt like a disappointment, a loser, a failure. Some of my biggest fears were a living reality in my mind. But this morning, similar to the morning I woke up and knew I was going to tell my parents I wanted a divorce, I knew I wanted a change. I was tired of feeling worthless. I was tired of feeling upset. I was tired of wallowing. I felt different. On that morning I just woke up and I knew it was time for another change. 

From that day on I have vowed to myself to never take anyone’s bullshit. Because I get ONE life. I have one lifetime to enjoy myself. And do whatever the fuck I want. I can be anyone I want and I can do just about anything I want. I can feel really fucking amazing if I want too. I can go places and I can study things. Most of all, I can be myself and I can be happy. It is a mindset, it is a way of life that I choose each and every single day.

There are still some day where I feel bad about myself. Where I fall into old patterns or I hear words that my ex-husband used to say to me telling me how I am nothing, worthless, fat or ugly. But every single day I am working towards being the best me that I can be. I am doing the best for myself that I can. I remember to tell myself that I am not my past. I am not who I was. Each day I get better, I see that I am stronger and I have more willpower to be the person who I am meant to be.

 

And I am not nothing, I am something.
I am not worthless, I am priceless.
I am not fat, I am a regular damn woman.
I am not ugly, I am beautiful.

xo

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