From Hell to Happiness

I have two children with the man who raped and sexually abused me for the span of our relationship. Three long years. It started off great. Better than great. He was my best friend. But things moved too fast. He moved in and a month later I found out I was pregnant with our first child. He was thrilled. I was scared. I wondered why a man who was already expecting a child was so excited to have another one. I brushed those fears aside.

That's when our relationship went downhill. The real him came out. The controlling behavior. I was emotionally and verbally abused on a daily basis. My name wasn't Amanda or babe anymore. It was bitch or cunt. And then he would apologize and make me feel like the most loved woman in the world. I cried every day of my pregnancy. It was a very depressing time for me. He controlled me. Made me feel like I literally could not survive on my own without him. And then he proposed to me. And stupid me thought that I had to say yes because I was stuck with him. I was having his baby and I was already his property. I had to say yes.

And then Emma came. And things went from bad to worse. I obviously couldn't have sex with him for 6 weeks after having her but he made me feel like it was my fault that we couldn't. He pressured me daily to perform oral sex on him. It was always about sex with him. Always. I developed PPD. I wanted to die and take Emma with me. I received help from my doctor, but the medication I got made it so I felt like an emotional zombie.

Joe never helped with the baby. I had to cook, clean, take care of the baby, and be his sex slave.

I didn't want to have sex with him. Ever. He started pressuring me daily. We would get into fights about it. He would call me names. He told me often that he expected to come home to a hot meal, the house clean, the kids in bed, and his dick sucked. The thought of touching him repulsed me.

Even though I never wanted to have sex with him sometimes I gave in to get him to be nice to me. But I made him wear protection. I told him that I did not want another baby. Not yet. I had been on birth control but it wasn't working well with my body and at that time I needed to switch forms. Then one night when I gave in, before he finished he pulled off the condom and came inside of me. I was so hurt and disgusted at him. I asked him why he would do that to me and he said he just wanted to have another one and get it over with. Emma was only 5 months old. That was the night Hannah was conceived. I can't ever let my beautiful baby girl know that she is the product of a sexual assault.

Joe assaulted me on and off over the next couple of years. But one night he took it a step further. I wasn't going to give in to him. I said no. I kept pushing his hands away from under my shirt. And then he used his size and strength to open my legs and stick his fingers inside of me. I told him no. I said stop. Why wouldn't he stop? I just laid there staring at the ceiling waiting for him to be done. Then he got on top of me. Inserted himself inside of me. I've tried my hardest to block out the rest. I just remember when he was done thinking "oh god, did my fiancé really just rape me?" He did. He didn't listen to me. Hannah was in the room sleeping in her crib. I went to the bathroom to clean myself up. He acted like nothing was wrong.

This became my life with him. Until it ended. July 4, 2014 was my personal Independence Day. That's the day I ended our three year relationship. I couldn't do it anymore. Not for me and not for my children. It took time to heal. He snuck his way back into our lives more than once. But now he's gone. He's thousands of miles away. So why does he still have control over me? Because I'm a victim of sexual assault. I need to work on not being a victim but a survivor. I need to move past the pain and not think of what he did to me. My girls deserve better. I want to give them better. And most of all, I refuse to let them think that they are anything like the monster who claims to be their father. They are amazing and beautiful little girls.

No matter what I have gone through, however, I love my daughters. I would rather experience that abuse all those years ago than live this life not being their mommy. I know my experience isn’t as bad as others who have been abused. I always tell myself it could have been worse, but I thank god it wasn’t. Life taught me valuable lessons. I learned what love was and what it wasn’t. True love is cuddling with your daughters after reading a bedtime story. It is not being demeaned as a human being and then apologized to. I will share my story as many times as I need to if it can help just one person. I’m going to tell you what I told myself; you can do this. You are better than you believe. You deserve the best life has to offer. And no matter what love yourself because that is the type of love you deserve.