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From me, to really anyone. I was in a relationship for four years, and to everyone, I looked happy. I always had a smile on my face, I was hyper, I seemed like I was so happy in the relationship. Everything seemed to be going well, he taught me how to drive manual car, took me to my favorite places to eat, always kind and respectful with my parents, and proposed to me right after my graduation from high school...where everyone was home and shouting say yes...so I did. I regret it. He made us hide it from his parents, only my family knew. I should've noticed everything so much sooner, considering all that happened.
The first six months of the relationship were rocky. Actually, the two weeks leading up to that he was already acting like I was his girlfriend. My family and I were getting ready for a trip to Oklahoma to see my mom's side. It took my ex-best-friend pressuring him to ask me out, and he seemed like a good guy at the time. He respected my wishes. Time went on, college started and he went off for college. I still haven't even told him what my point of view is in all this. But, he started acting weird with me. He eventually asked if we could have sex. I said no, I wasn't ready. He kept asking, saying please, saying he'd get me my favorite foods. I kept saying no.
After a month of him asking, I found out that he got drunk and blacked out at a party I begged him not to go to, some girl tried to "use her mouth." His friend sent me pictures and said "You deserve to know since he refused to answer you all night." I had stayed up all night, just for this to happen while I was being ignored. I wouldn't talk to him for almost a month, he had to go through my mother to get any words from me.
Flash forward to our six months, December...he brought up sex again. I said no for days on end while he was home on Christmas break. Then came the day I will never forget. December 26, 2013, he took me out to eat at my favorite place and to see a movie. Then, he took me on a drive, around to a different city close by, and down an old road that no one goes down. At this point I just sat there thinking I was going to die. No, I wish I had been killed instead. He parked, locked the doors since it was an older car and you can't pull those little silver things back out. He came over to my and started kissing my neck, pulling me by my hair, trying to take my clothes off. I told him to stop, tried shoving him, I started crying and he still refused to stop.
I started hitting him, after all, I was stronger, but he hit me over the head with something and said to calm down. I felt paralyzed, I couldn't move as I whimpered and cried and begged him to stop, but he kept going, taking everything off and making me feel more disgusting. It wasn't until I felt the most horrific pain that my body came back to me, but it was too late, he was already done. Through tears, almost no voice, and just silence, I put my clothes back on and we left. He took me home and I went straight to my room to close the door and lock it. He stayed and talked to my parents; when they realized I wasn't coming out, he left.
Months, up to years went on like this. He started asking for nudes, he took pictures of me while I slept since it was hot in my room I slept a certain way and he took advantage when he came over while I was sleeping. My parents trusted him because they couldn't see. He would "make up" for things by taking me to my favorite places. Out of public, he would hit me, yell at me, and more. I had begun cutting again, threatening him with my life, but even then it didn't stop anything. He thought being sexual with me would help me.
After so long of this happening, I opened up. My family said I deserved it, but my now husband always took my side. He saw my badly bruised and broken heart, he saw the bruises, the tears, he saw my pain. He helped me get out of the relationship and healed my heart. He was my best friend to begin with. But, in our first month together, I was going with a friend I trusted with my life to stay the night at her house. I met with her and she got in a car with the others in the group, told me the ride I was taking would be here soon. I started getting more scared as I saw my ex's car pull up and she told me to get in, it'd be okay. I shouldn't have trusted it. He ended up taking me somewhere, kissing me and more...he had gotten stronger, he had been going to the gym, and because of the fragile state I had been in with therapy, I was too weak to get him off. Again, I was raped. So many countless times I wish I could have been stronger or smarter.
There were so many times things happened that I wished I could have stopped. I tried, but to no avail. To this day, my husband is still doing so much to make me feel beautiful, to make sure I love myself. But, how can I not hate my body? If I had looked different, maybe my body wouldn't have been used. No, I love my body. My body will be the reason my husband's and my children have life, because I will have carried our children. I don't have to take how my past makes me feel. You don't have to take it either. Please, look around if you don't know if you are in an abusive relationship. There are so many warning signs that we miss because we think we may love someone. Get a hold of family, friends, a helpline, the police...get a hold of anyone and get out of there as fast as you can, before it's too late. Because, it puts so much on you physically, emotionally, and especially mentally! Get help! You're so much stronger than they are!