Love After Abuse

One of my very first memories as a child is of being beaten by a Goliath of a man. My father is 6'6", 500 pounds. Why he ever felt the need to beat a tiny little girl is beyond me. I will never, ever, as long as I live, understand anything that occurred between that man and I.

Once, when I was 3 or 4-years-old, my father kicked me and literally stomped on me while wearing steel-toed boots. I don't remember why, just that it hurt like hell. I remember that the bruises looked exactly like footprints. And that's about it.

Then, when I was 5, I accidentally smashed my little cousin's fingers in a door. My father swore I did it on purpose and demanded the reason. I said I didn't mean to, I just didn't want him in the room I was in and I didn't realize his fingers were near the door. My father didn't like that answer, and I don't remember what happened after he knocked me off the couch I was sitting on, just that I woke up on the floor with bruises and scratches all over my arms and legs.

And I could name countless other instances like that.

So, yeah, it's safe to say that I didn't trust men at all for a very long time. I have stereotypical "Daddy issues." I didn't connect well with the man mom was with. He started coming around when I was 6 and I hated him. I don't remember exactly why I hated him, I think I was just afraid that he would abuse me or my mom. It took me years not to hate him, and I'm not sure I ever completely stopped hating him.

My very first relationship was abusive as well, but thankfully, very short-lived. I was 14, he was 17 (3 months shy of 18), and there were red flags everywhere. He was extremely controlling. He didn't want me to have friends, especially male friends, and very often took my phone and acted like he was me, alienating people from me, telling my friends I thought they were garbage, etc. I guess I thought that was normal, because I just started letting him do it. We were only together six months, but at the end, I literally only had two friends. Only two people knew that I really wasn't the one being a psycho. He'd occasionally get physical with me. He would start out being playful, or acting that way, but somehow I would always end up with bruises, or with his hands around my throat, with him explaining that he knew he could really hurt me if he wanted to. We had sex at the three month mark in our relationship, because he wouldn't stop nagging me about it. After I gave it to him once, that's all we ever did. There was no relationship there, I was just a young girl that was afraid of him, someone he could "own" and have sex with. Her left me after he cheated on me for about a month. I didn't even realize he had abused me throughout our whole relationship until two years later when I ended up with a guy who was the exact opposite.

Now, I thought I had decided that I could never be abused again, I'd be sure of it, only keep good company, etc, etc. But life doesn't let you choose like that. At 16-years-old, one month into a relationship with a new guy, my very best guy friend sexually assaulted me. He knew I was dating someone. He knew what I had been through before. What he didn't know was the word no. Now, I don't want to act like he full-on "raped" me. He pinned me down, literally in a corner, forced his fingers into me, kissed me repeatedly, and only stopped when he realized someone else was in the house.

Things have been pretty tame since that last incident. I will never, ever say that the abuse I suffered made me a better, braver, stronger person, but I will also never submit to the title of "victim." I don't trust the way I should. It takes people forever to break through to me. I'm paranoid. I don't turn my back to men, ever. I don't allow most people in my house. I make sure I can see everyone when I'm at an event or in a restaurant. And finally, I am with someone who I fully trust. I know he'd take a bullet for me, he'd kill over me, and he will protect me.

I never thought I could trust a man, or care for one, for that matter. It's hard for me to love and trust, but my partner has been patient and I've never been more secure in a relationship. For a very long time, I thought the only way to avoid abuse was to be in total control of myself, and of my partner. I realize now that that isn't true, and I've learned to let go a little.

I guess the moral of the story here is that yeah, you can love after abuse, but you have to heal first, so you don't hurt others.