CONTENT NOTICE: Intimate partner violence, SEXUAL VIOLENCE, VICTIM BLAMING, depression, anxiety
written by: Tina* *a pseudonym
- All the names in this story have been changed -
I never thought I’d have the strength to do this, especially not so soon. I have experienced every possible emotion trying to put my feelings into words. I realized through this process that telling my story no longer benefits me. Instead, I want it to uplift others and show survivors that there is a shift from the overwhelming pain. While the journey may be encrusted with hurt and confusion, you can find your way – the destination is a beaming light. I don’t believe you can fully heal from trauma; instead, you figure out how to navigate life with it. And hopefully, this story can help you navigate yours.
It all started the summer after my senior year of high school. I attended a pre-orientation program hosted by the college I was attending. I met a guy named Jeremiah who actually “saved” me from an uncomfortable situation. One of the counselors at the pre-orientation program was hitting on me and trying to kiss me and just made me super uncomfortable. I told this to Jeremiah, and he said he would never leave my side again. And for a while, he didn’t.
“As time passed, we started getting closer and closer, and that’s when he began changing. The more comfortable I became around him, the more comfortable he was with showing his true character.”
When we returned to campus for our first year, I learned much more about Jeremiah. I thought he was sympathetic, kind, passionate, driven, and so on. That’s why I fell for him. He would call me whenever I needed him. He studied my mannerisms and my emotions to tend to my needs. He took the time to compliment me continuously. He listened to me. And it was indeed that simple to make me fall. He made many promises about how he would never take me for granted and never hurt me. He told me I could trust him, so I did. As time passed, we started getting closer and closer, and that’s when he began changing. The more comfortable I became around him, the more comfortable he was with showing his true character.
We started to argue a lot more; he became highly possessive and would make an argument whenever I left the dorm. As the arguments increased, his temper shortened. It seemed like he would get mad about anything that I did, and it got to the point where I never left my dorm because of it. Even if it were a school or extracurricular obligation, he would say how I was taking away time for us. He became less excited about my accomplishments and hated when I signed up to participate in more activities on campus. As his anger grew, so did the explosiveness of his reactions.
At first, it started with light pushes and shoves. Occasionally he would throw my belongings out of his dorm room to embarrass me. However, it became increasingly violent over time - he would break things in my room to get a reaction out of me, push me extremely hard to make me fall, and say hurtful things about my insecurities. He knew what hurt my feelings the most, which he capitalized on. When I would cry, he would ignore it. Sometimes we would lie in the same bed during an argument, and if I were emotional, he would go to sleep. But if he couldn’t fall asleep, he would turn the tv on with the volume high to drown me out. These arguments also affected our intimacy. He stopped complimenting me or showing affection. He would only touch me when we were in public to make a statement to other men. In private, he never wanted me to make the first move and only wanted to satisfy his needs. And if I denied him, he would get more upset. After a while, I started to give in so I wouldn’t have to experience the aftermath. I was solely a vessel for his disposal. And while I knew all of this, I felt like I could never leave him.
“At the time, he was the only person I had on campus. I convinced myself that my life would be more complicated without him than with him.”
In my sophomore year of college, I found out that Jeremiah cheated on me with one of his family friends. I was utterly devastated. He was telling this girl that he loved her, buying her gifts, and doing everything with her that he did with me. When I told him that I knew, he was crying hysterically. He begged me not to leave and promised that he would do any and everything to make me stay. At this point, he had already ended the relationship with the other girl months ago, but he swore up and down that there was no one else. I tried to leave, but he refused to let me go. He promised that he would be the man that I met in the beginning. He said he would be kind to me, treat me well, and most of all, stop putting his hands on me. Reluctantly, I agreed for him to have access to me still. At the time, he was the only person I had on campus. I convinced myself that my life would be more complicated without him than with him.
Almost no one knew how abusive the relationship was, but I shared with my friends that he cheated. I couldn’t carry these emotions alone, so I disclosed this small piece to ease my load. Everyone was in complete disapproval of giving him a second chance, which made me embarrassed that I was considering it. To combat this shame, I made him agree that we would not be in a relationship again until he proved to me that he meant what he said. I would openly date other people and do my own thing until I knew he was ready - and he agreed.
“I distinctly remember freezing. It felt like I couldn’t move, and I couldn’t speak. Everything in me said, ‘Say something; please say something.’ But I couldn’t. I just sat there.”
During this time, I met someone named Carter. We were friends for a couple of months before things turned more romantic. After becoming “single,” Carter asked to take me on a date. It was the summer of sophomore year, and we went jet skiing; it was a lot of fun, and I enjoyed being around him. Carter knew I wasn’t taking anyone seriously at the time, including him. I was still waiting for Jeremiah to get himself together. While Carter and I kissed on our second date, I told him I wanted to take things extremely slow and did not want to have sex unless I was in a relationship. He said he understood and seemed very receptive, so I became more comfortable with him. One weekend I went to North Carolina for my friend’s birthday, and Carter and I were texting. At this point, we had been casually seeing each other for about a month, and there were still no serious intentions. I jokingly told him he should come to see me, and surprisingly he agreed.
My friends and I were drinking heavily, and I told him this. I said that if he came, I did not want to have sex at all, and I wanted to make this known while I was still cognitively conscious. He agreed and said that he also did not want to have sex. About an hour and a half goes by, and he comes to our Airbnb. At this point, I am highly intoxicated. Everything from this point on is fuzzy, and I have trouble remembering specifics. However, I know we were casually talking in the living room, and then I told him I was hungry.
We started looking for somewhere to eat, but it was late, and no restaurants were open. I said that we could sit in his car anyways because it was something we usually do. When we went to the car, everything became even fuzzier because the room was spinning at this point. We get in the back seat and kiss, like usual. But then, after a few minutes of kissing, he asks if he can put it in. And I distinctly remember freezing. It felt like I couldn’t move, and I couldn’t speak. Everything in me said, “Say something; please say something.” But I couldn’t. I just sat there. To this day, I still can’t exactly remember what happened. I remember him repeating that he was putting it in, and about two minutes later, he took it out because I wasn’t moving. Afterward, he just kept apologizing. I didn’t grasp what happened at the time, so I just kept saying it was fine.
“[I] tried to convince myself that I had all the control when I didn’t - he still did.”
Jeremiah was the only person I told for a while. I didn’t tell him I felt taken advantage of, but just that I had sex with someone else. He was distraught and told me I could never talk to Carter again or he would leave. Before Jeremiah gave me that ultimatum, I was sure I could easily let him go because he had cheated on me. But after his request, I realized that I couldn’t. I was still very attached to him and tried to convince myself that I had all the control when I didn’t - he still did.
I blocked Carter on everything, not because he took advantage of me, but because Jeremiah told me to. Jeremiah was my first everything; he was the one I trusted the most and the only person I felt I could talk to. After some time, I told Jeremiah what actually happened with Carter, and Jeremiah told me how sorry he was. He completely validated me and my experience, and it made me begin to trust him more. He was the only person I ever told, and therefore, he was the one I depended on the most regarding my emotions.
“…from then on, I felt numb. Everything he said went in one ear and out the other, even if it was good things. I put no value in his words anymore; it took too much from me to place it there.”
By the time junior year came around, Jeremiah and I were back together. At the start, the fights were at a reasonable level, and life felt a lot better. However, at some point, it flipped back to how it was. Except for this time, it was worse. Jeremiah would get mad over every little thing I did. And when he got angry, he would say anything that came to his mind. His ammo was anything I was still hurt by, and I trusted only with him. One time he told me, “that’s why you got raped by your friend,” and from then on, I felt numb. Everything he said went in one ear and out the other, even if it was good things. I put no value in his words anymore; it took too much from me to place it there. The relationship was such a rollercoaster that I had to detach myself from my emotions to stay sane. I was so emotionless near the end that I felt nothing even in the “good” moments. It affected my grades, social life, and mental health.
It took a while, but eventually, I had had enough. There was one last argument, and I had nothing left to give. Jeremiah was upset with something I did, and I refused to offer any of my energy while he was angry because I knew where it would lead, but that made him more enraged. He pulled me off of my bed by my feet onto the ground. He ripped me out of my clothes, refused to let me put any on, and threw drinks at me while I stood naked. He called me out of my name and told me how no one would ever love me as he did. He refused to let me out of my room and kept throwing me back every time I tried to get out.
“I knew then he was never going to change. No matter the number of apologies he delivered, oaths he swore, or tears he shed, he would remain the same. After that, I knew I was never going back.”
Just like with Carter, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I felt frozen. At some points, I thought I wouldn’t make it out. He choked me until I couldn’t breathe and gasped for air. I screamed to my roommates for help, but nobody could get in because he locked the door and stood by it. At that moment, I had absolutely nothing left in me. I was merely just a body that he continued to throw against my drawer and floor. I was so tired of fighting. I was so weak inside, and any hope or peace I had was broken. One of the last things that Jeremiah said to me was that I would never leave him no matter what. He laughed while he said this. The certainty in his voice showed his comfortability in my life. I knew then he was never going to change. No matter the number of apologies he delivered, oaths he swore, or tears he shed, he would remain the same. After that, I knew I was never going back. My roommates called the police, he left, and that was the end of us.
I never filed a police report on Jeremiah for the same reason I never filed one on Carter. I care about them. I see them as people who made mistakes, and I don’t want them to pay for it for the rest of their lives. And while that may diminish the severity of their actions, that is okay with me. That is not to say that people who report their abusers are selfish because they aren’t. That just wasn’t the choice I desired to make.
“I had thought by leaving Jeremiah, despite how he treated me, I was giving up on him. In reality, by staying with him, I gave up on the person that deserved the most of my love - myself.”
After all of this happened, I fell into a deep depression. One that I didn’t think that I could get out of. I had a support system around me, but I couldn’t talk to anyone besides one person. Everyone else, I just shut out. My trust issues were extremely high, and I felt like no one could comprehend what I was going through. I lost the one person I talked to about Carter and realized I was in an abusive relationship in the same year. It was the most challenging couple of months I’ve ever experienced. I could not understand why I deserved to be treated like that. I could not understand how I allowed myself to be treated like that.
However, after a long period of reflection, I realized it wasn’t my fault. I could not blame myself for not saying something to Carter while drunk because I set my boundaries while sober. And I could not blame myself for staying in the relationship with Jeremiah because it wasn’t my character to ever “give up” on someone. I had thought by leaving Jeremiah, despite how he treated me, I was giving up on him. In reality, by staying with him, I gave up on the person that deserved the most of my love - myself. I lost who I was, trying to give him everything he was missing in himself. He wasn’t just missing a little bit of happiness or lessons on how to control your anger; he was missing his soul. And because he was missing his soul, he tried to take mine.
“It is hard. Healing is a job on its own. However, the payout is more than any salaried job can offer.”
I want to reiterate that my healing process was and is still messy. Some nights I feel like I have made absolutely no progress at all and other nights I feel like I’m a completely different person. However, fast forward to now, and I feel okay. And while okay may not be the best thing in the world, it is the best I’ve felt in a while. I have not felt this way since 5th grade. I have constantly dealt with depression and anxiety, and my parents never knew. Most of my friends never knew. I occasionally have anxiety attacks and negative thoughts, but it is nowhere near what it was. It took a lot of work to get to this point. Many long nights crying, thinking, and just sitting in my emotions. It is hard. Healing is a job on its own. However, the payout is more than any salaried job can offer. I can’t believe how far I’ve come, but I also know there is a long road ahead. However, every step gets a little easier. And while there are roadblocks, and sometimes all you can focus on is surviving or making it through the day that is still progress. Our experiences are valid, and our vulnerability is a strength. We can get through our journey in our own time and our own way.