I’ve decided to share my story. It’s less about entertainment and more about therapy. Perhaps you can relate…although, in many cases, I hope you can’t. I’ll start at the beginning and end somewhere near the present. Not sure how many posts this will take, so keep an eye out.
My Beginning
It was a warm, Arizona day, shortly after my 21st birthday. My parents and some friends had taken me and my friend to Vegas to celebrate our milestone birthdays. I was so young to have endured what I had already endured. You see, I was married at the tender age of 19. Not because I was in love, but because I wanted a way out of my parent’s house.
My parents were good people, strong people, and very savvy, to boot. Every time I tried to move out on my own, they would point out how it just couldn’t be done alone. Well, along came a man who could change all of that. He had family money, a decent job, and he said he loved me. What more could a seriously insecure girl want? I promptly got engaged and the day after our wedding, the abuse began. It started with him berating me, then physically dominating me, squeezing me until I couldn’t breathe, and quickly moved to smothering me with pillows, and repeated rapes. He even went so far as to trick me into believing he wasn’t home and ambushing me. It ended with him raping me, a gun sat on the table that my head hit as he sodomized me.
Had it not been for my parents coming over for dinner that night, I’m not sure what would’ve happened to me. They put what they could of my things in trash bags and moved me back home. Over the coming months, my ex kept baiting me with items of necessity, like my car insurance cards. I went to pick them up from the front porch and he would grab me and sodomize me. I honestly don’t know why I went over there, why I trusted that things like that wouldn’t have happened, but they did…and I’m lucky to be here today to tell my story.
In the end, he sold all of my childhood belongings, things I held so dear, and that was the end of the girl, I had become a damaged adult by the age of 20.
I guess it all makes sense that my next relationship, which started when I was 21, would be with a handsome man with policeman aspirations. Of course, I didn’t know it when we first met, but within moments I knew that this man was someone I could trust, and that was a big deal. He achieved his goal of becoming a police officer three months after we started dating in March of 1998, and I thought that we were on our way to a good, long, happy life.
He moved 100 miles away and we maintained a long distance relationship for two years. Even though he became engulfed in his job and added a level of arrogance to his personality, I still loved him and thought we could make it through anything. Looking back, I guess I loved him enough for the both of us, only to find that that could never last.
