I recently came into contact with a woman I'd met online, through a domestic violence website. Her story is very similar to mine, so I can relate to her on probably ever level imaginable. But it makes me sad that I even have those chapters in the story of my life. But I will not be silenced. I refuse to let him win. I refuse to let anyone else be hurt by him. I never deserved anything he put me through. And it took me many years to realize that. I was so beaten down, in every single way you could probably imagine, that I forgot I was my own person, and had my own voice. So, I'll share my story. This will probably get long, and sometimes graphic, but it needs to be said. This is my story. This could be your story too. It can happen to any of us.
It all started in my senior year of highschool. I had just gotten my license, and had a nice little car, and was just enjoying being young, and carefree. I was riding around one night with a few of my girlfriends, when we saw him. (although all of you know who I am talking about, I will refer to him as "A" in this blog.) A was in a parking lot with another boy I'd knew from school. A had a locker near mine in my junior year, and we had always crossed paths, but barely ever spoke. He had just moved to our town, and was going for a "clean cut, christian" look, and those things I was never interested in. But seeing him with the long hair, and "skater punk" style, was actually appealing. So, I begged my friend to turn around, and say hi to the boys.
We pulled in, A came right over to the car, was excited to see me, or so he said. He jumped in the car with my friends and I, and we all went off to get something to eat, and head back to his apartment he had just moved into by himself. It was really cool hanging out at someone's house with no supervision of any kind. We all just hung out, ate some food, and watched movies. Around midnight, i'd decided I was ready to leave, so me and A exchanged phone numbers, and I was on my way.
He called then next day. We began a friendship. A close friendship. He would come up to the high school and wait for me to get done. I'd always go out to my car at 11:30 and see him sitting on the hood of my car. I was on a work release program in school, so I got to get out of school everyday, even if I didn't work that night. So, as a typical day, A and I set back for his apartment, and spent the rest of the night hanging out there. He told me he really liked me, and I really liked him. He was older than me, had a job, had his own place, and that was really appealing to someone young and stupid. I fell for his lies, how he told me I was pretty, how he told me he wanted to "go out with me". I fell for it.
We started dating, and for the first couple months, it was cool. We spent our time with friends, watching movies, going out for dinner. Things were good. Then, the first time I can remember feeling controlled was when he told me I "wasn't allowed to hang out with my friends" because "they don't want whats best for you like I do." which, i thought was strange. I told him "you won't control me" and left the apartment, and went home. He immediately started calling and telling me he was sorry, and he had a bad day at work, and wanted me to come back so he could apologize to my face. Whatever. I went. He apologized. I thought that would be the only trouble that I'd ever have with him.
But it wasn't, and it got worse.
He found a picture of an ex boyfriend and me on my Myspace, and flipped out. I remember him finding it, and confronting me about it. I told him that my ex was still my friend, and I didn't want to remove the picture. He became furious, and pushed me into the bathroom, and slammed me down into the shower, knocking the shower curtain down. It was like, this rage came over him, and blew up...and as soon as he released the anger out on me physically, his whole demeanor changed. He looked shocked that happened. I ran out of the bathroom crying. I didn't know what had just happened. He told me he was sorry. And my first thought was "well, i can see why he would get angry..." and i excused his behavior. This set me off on a very slippery slope.
He became getting more and more possessive and angry with me, all the time. It went from a push or shove, to a full on physical attack. He would choke me, slam me on the ground, kick me. I didn't know what I was doing so wrong. I couldn't understand why this was happening to me. If I knew then, what I know now, I would have broken it off, then and there. But I didn't. He would tell me he hits me and treats me that way because he "loved me so much" and that it was his way of keeping me "under control". And it wasn't all physical, either. He would play such terrible mind games, too. He was working a very physical job at one point, and it was Christmas. Our first christmas together. He wanted me to drop everything I was doing, and go get him from work. It was difficult, because I was spending Christmas with my family. When I finally made it down there, he was walking on the side of route 40, and wouldn't get in the car. He called me a bitch, and a slut, and that I was worthless, and he wouldn't ride with me. So when I left him there, he would call my phone and just tell me how much of a piece of shit I was for leaving him there...only for me to turn around, go back, and him do all of this all over again. He would tell me I couldn't talk to people, and that I had no reason to have any friends. He would isolate me in his house, and wouldn't let me make eye contact with people. He told me that he was the only person I needed in my life. I was already in so far over my head, and I had no idea how to get out of it.
My senior prom was coming, and I asked him if he wanted to go with me. And he looked at me like I was stupid, and already had made plans to take me out dress shopping. I was really heartbroken that I wouldn't be doing my shopping with my dad...it was our tradition. Every school dance, my daddy always took me dress shopping. But A decided it was his place, instead. He was paying for it, he said, and he had the say so in what I wore. So, i wanted a specific dress, and he told me I couldn't have it. He picked out something else, and made me get it. He picked out my shoes. He picked out the pictures I got. And then at the prom, he wouldn't let me dance. He got jealous if anyone commented on how pretty I looked. He made me sit at the table the entire night, and wouldn't let me leave his sight. He wouldn't dance with me. He wouldn't even really look at me. Then, it was over. I had missed my last big night as a high schooler because of him. I was a little upset, but this was typical. We went back to his apartment afterward.
His behavior was just getting worse and worse. And I felt so trapped because he would make me feel so guilty if I thought about leaving him. He would tell me he had no other family around, and needed me. He told me that I was going to be with him forever, and that I just "needed to get used to it." He would put his hands on me almost everyday at this point. It was so depressing. I was graduating high school, and was trying to plan a future that I wanted to have. He put dampers on all my plans and said that if I moved away, he wasn't going to wait for me, and that so many other girls would love to be with him, and I was just being a bitch. So I put all my college plans on hold. I wanted to join the Air Force. He wasn't having that either. So I gave that up. I walked the graduation stage. He was there to greet me afterwards. I didn't even really have a chance to say goodbye to my friends, or take any pictures because he made me leave. I can't even remember if I talked to my parents after graduation. I was too scared of making him mad, that I just did what he said.
I spent the night at his apartment that night, because I was too scared to do anything else. I didn't want to fight. Looking back, this was just my coping mechanism of getting myself through such a crap situation. I learned very quickly not to rock the boat. The next morning, I woke up, and realized my period was late. I panicked. I didn't want to be pregnant. I didn't want to be trapped. I remember going to the store, getting the stupid pregnancy test. And the look of sheer bliss on his face when I stepped into the bathroom to take it. I remember opening the bathroom door to see him sitting on the broken ass futon asking me what it said.
"It's positive." is all I could really say. I was scared. I didn't want this. I didn't want to have a baby with anyone like him. I always had dreams of getting married to someone like my daddy, and being completely in love, getting married, and planning my family. Instead, I conceived on my senior prom night, during a sexual encounter I didn't even really want. And now, a baby. A baby growing in my womb that was half this monster. I told him that I wasn't ready, and I didn't think I could handle being a mother. He told me I was selfish, and a murderer if i had an abortion. I kept the pregnancy. I wasn't exactly forced into keeping the pregnancy, but I wasn't exactly thrilled with it, either.
I had ultrasounds done. And blood work, and all that good stuff that comes along with pregnancy. The day after my birthday (September 11th 2006) I was in the shower. It was the doctor. Something was wrong. I rushed to A's work to get him. We went to the hospital for a level II ultrasound. The tech took forever. The ultrasound took over an hour. And I was all alone in the room. They wouldn't let my mom, or A in the room. The doctor came into the room, and gave me the bad news. "It's Gastroschisis. Your baby's intestines, and other organs are growing outside of his body. It's a boy." That's all he said. It was a boy, and my baby boy was deformed. Why? Why me?
Not only was I in a shitty, loveless relationship, now my innocent unborn son was deformed. He was sick. He could die. It got really serious. I was a teen mother. A teen mother who was in an abusive relationship, who was having a very sick baby. I felt like this was all my fault. I felt like if I had stopped an attack, maybe my son wouldn't be born so sick. Maybe if I hadn't stressed, or cried so much in early pregnancy, my son wouldn't be sick. Maybe if I hadn't done so many fucked up things, I wouldn't give birth to a deformed baby. I hated my life at this point. I just wanted to die. My innocence was already stolen from me by a guy who didn't love me, I was already going to give birth before my 18th birthday...but add this birth defect on top of it. None of this was fair. At all.
So, A moved out of his crappy run down one bedroom apartment, and he moved to a bigger place, and I went with him. I wanted him to love me. I wanted him to want to be a daddy. I wanted him to love us, and stop treating me so badly. I thought our son would change him. I thought that somehow in my stupid teenage mind, that this baby would change him.
Even pregnant, he wouldn't stop beating me. He would pull me by my legs and drag me to the ground, and pull my hair. He'd kick me in the back. He'd slap me across the face. He'd tell me I was just a whore, and I trapped him in this relationship with a baby. I had to call the police many many times while pregnant. Once, he was mad at me for something, and started throwing all of my son's things off our second story balcony. I was too afraid to go inside. I called the cops. They came, told him to knock it off, and let me go in the house. I went in, just to grab a few things to go stay with my parents. I didn't even make it to the bedroom to get clothes, when I was pushed to the ground, head slammed into the carpet, choked, and kicked. I had to call the police again. He was arrested for the 7th time. We had a court date. January 23rd. The day after on January 24th, I went into labor...and on January 25th 2007, Caden was born.
He was sick. So so sick. He was born blue, and non-responsive. His stomach looked like he'd been shot, and all of his insides were coming through his stomach. It was awful. He didn't cry for almost five minutes. I was convinced he was dead. He wasn't moving. There was no sound. The room was full with over 25 doctors and nurses trying to save him. And finally, the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard. Caden started to cry. I started to cry. (hell, i'm crying sitting here writing this). My son had entered the world. And it was now my sole job, and duty to protect him. And stay strong for him. He went straight to the NICU and was prepped for surgery. And after two surgeries, a coma, and 29 days...Caden came home. And he was mine. And I was his. He was the most beautiful little baby I had ever seen. And he was so fragile, and needed alot of help his first couple months. Between the medications, the home nurse visits...I still don't know how I got through this phase. I had NO help. I did this all alone.
The relationship between A and I, did not improve. He would wait until Caden was sleeping, and would beat the shit out of me for no reason. I was already exhausted from raising the baby, and he was putting me through so much shit, I was a zombie. I was scared. I was scared he would turn his rage out onto my baby. I knew I had to leave, but I didn't know how. I remember calling my dad in the middle of the night once to just come get me and the baby. But I always went back. WHY? why did I do this?
I remember the first septemberfest after Caden was born. A had beat me so senseless a few nights before. And septemberfest is always around my birthday. I was excited because it was a good time to see friends, enjoy my birthday, and take my baby with me for the first time. He robbed me of that. He made me wear a spaghetti strap shirt to the septemberfest. I was covered in bruises. People started at me. Some people even asked questions as to wear I had gotten all the bruises from. I lied, like always. "oh i fell down the stairs, i'm so clumsy." That was the first time he ever wanted to display what he had done to me behind closed doors. He seemed so proud of himself. It was sick and twisted. And he used to stare me down when I would lie for him. He got off on this power he had over me. He knew he would do whatever he wanted to me, and I would lie and cover up for him. Because I always did.
Shit got really scary and real when Caden was around 11 months or so. A actually punched me in the face while holding Caden. I knew...I knew it was time to leave. I remember A left the house because he was scared I would have him arrested again. But what good was getting him arrested, anyway? The cops would take him to the station, give him a summons, and release him. There was NO protection from the cops. They wouldn't do anything at all. So, I just took it upon myself to leave. I waited for him to go to work. And i packed up, and I left. I promised Caden sitting in his little baby carseat that nobody would ever hurt him, as long as I was alive. And I kept that promise. To this day.
It didn't take long for A to try and win me back. And he did. Only because I was a complete dumb ass. He bought me a ring, and told me to wear it on my left hand. It looked like a wedding band. It had my name, and his on it. And I took it, and I wore it. Stupidly. I started going to trade school to become a massage therapist. I started meeting new people. It kept my mind busy. I started going to friend's houses to do homework.
I ended up meeting somebody while in school, and started a relationship with him, behind A's back. I knew if I got caught, he would kill me. I started texting this other guy. A found my phone. He smashed it, and broke it, and sprayed it down with water. I told him that it wasn't true, and that the other guy was lying. But I stopped lying. When A did find out it was true, I remember sitting in the street by his mom's house. He asked me if it was true. I didn't lie. I told him it was true. I turned my head away from him because I was scared of what was going to happen next. He made a strange noise, so I slowly turned my head. Before I knew it, he punched me square in the face. Like he was punching a man in the face. So hard. It knocked me backwards. I ran to my car. By this time, my whole top lip was swollen up like twice its size. I drove to my mom's house. I was hysterical because she wasn't home. I called her. I couldn't talk. She rushed home, and found me on the floor. She called the cops. They took me to the police station, took pictures of me. By this time, I had two black eyes, and my whole face from my nose, to my chin was swollen, and black and blue. My gums in my mouth were bruised. That's how hard he hit me. Court for that was embarrassing. They showed my picture to the courtroom. People gasped. I remember walking outside, behind A. Two guys were sitting outside, and said to him "wow, what a man you are, putting your hands on a little girl." I felt dumb. Why did I put up with this?
It took over two years, and a bunch of scars, bruises, and bloody noses...but I did get out. Without the support from my family, I wouldn't have gotten out. I am completely convinced that he would have killed me. I know he would have. I am thankful every day for my life.
But I didn't get out completely unscathed. For the longest time, I was a complete wreck. I had no self esteem. I hated men. I hated myself. Domestic violence used to be a dirty, secret word, and I would NEVER speak about it. But I found my voice. I met women who went through things I went through. And i realized that I need to share my story. I will never be silenced. I am NOT scared of him anymore. I AM strong. and I am ALIVE. and I DESERVE my life. He wanted to take all of this away from me. But i'm STILL HERE!!
The biggest misconception about domestic violence that really burns me is ;
the women CHOOSE to stay. NOBODY CHOOSES THIS! You become so brainwashed, and codependent on your abuser, that you feel like you HAVE to stay. Because most men who abuse, will completely isolate you, not let you work to own your own money, and make it IMPOSSIBLE to leave. without any of my own money, how was I supposed to just up and leave? He would give me money for EVERYTHING. I never had my own money. I couldn't even put gas in my own car. He took me away from my family. He would track every time I called them...he would beat me up for going to see them. I just stopped going because I didn't want to get beaten up. You become almost like a caged animal. You live just to please your "owner". I was afraid to put a toe out of line. I was so brainwashed, I didn't even remember I was my OWN person. I DIDN'T choose that! I DIDN'T deserve that! No matter what anyone says...yes ; i stayed with him. OUT OF FEAR! This is how domestic violence works. THERE IS NO LOVE ; ONLY FEAR. that is all you know. And whenever there is a loving moment, you feel so accomplished. but it never lasts long.
I don't want any other young girl to go through any of this. Domestic violence is very real. And it happens to every race, every age, every religion...anyone can have this story.
But I am proud of the person I am today. Without him breaking me down to a complete nothing, I would have never known the strength that I truly have deep down inside of me. I was able to pick myself up by the bootstraps, and keep living my life. I didn't succumb to him. He didn't break me. I never knew how strong I could really be, until being strong was my only option.
If your partner starts showing ANY of these signs ;
controlling
telling you that you dont need anyone but him/her
puts you down for simple things
keeps you from family and friends
pushes or shoves you
punishes you for doing something wrong
makes fun of you in a cruel way
GET OUT. DO NOT STAY. Because it will get a MILLION times worse. And you could end up like me. Completely over your head before you know it. YOU ARE WORTH IT! Do not confuse fear with love. Someone who really loves you will never do that to you. LOVE shouldn't hurt like that. YOU ARE WORTH IT! Do not make my mistakes. Love yourself. And do not let ANYONE make you inferior. You are a human being. A human being worth love. <3
-Brandi
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