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My Story

THIS IS NOT MEANT FOR CHILDREN.

IF YOU ARE A CHILD OR CANNOT HANDLE OFFENSIVE LANGUAGE, PLEASE USE THE BACK BUTTON I HAVE PROVIDED AT THE TOP OF THE PAGE. THANK YOU…


Also, please keep in mind when reading this story that I was 21 when I wrote it. I am now 25 so these events happened a long time ago. A lot has changed since those days as you may see on my homepage!!! This is only a reminder to me of what not ever to do again. Thank you for taking the time to read it and getting to know me.
(`'·.¸(`'·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)
«´¨`·.¸¸.*Nessa*.·´¸¸¨`»
(¸.·'´(¸.·'´ `'·.¸)`' ·.¸)

My story is not meant to make you cry or feel pity. My story is not meant to belittle the male population. My story is not meant to cause pain or suffering. My story is meant to teach and advise. So many women today face what I've already been through at the young age of 21. My story is meant to tell the world that there is hope and there is a way out. Read and learn from my mistakes.

When I was a teenager (15 - 16 years old) I was considered a "bad child" by the majority of my family. I lost my virginity at a young age and had sex frequently…with numerous different partners. I had low self-esteem. My friends were few and far between. Overall I felt unloved, unwanted. I snuck out at all times of the night and partied with crowds that were much older than myself. I slept with men that I wasn't dating. I was doomed.

When I was 17, and just graduating from high school, I met a 22 year old guy (we'll leave him anonymous…even though he should be called out). He was black. That didn't matter to me though because I was a 'rebel' already in my parent's eyes. We started hanging out. I had a car and he didn't so I would go pick him up to party with him. He sold and smoked marijuana (weed, pot, smoke, Mary Jane) on a daily basis. I had just had my first taste of marijuana and I liked it…so I liked hanging around him. It was more of a convenience than anything else.

One night I got kicked out of where I was staying. When I called him, he put me up for the night. One thing led to another and we had sex. A relationship started soon after that. I wasn't even physically attracted to this guy! Everything was good for a while. It wasn't until about a year into our relationship that he hit me for the first time. I was living with him…staying with his friends, family, etc…and I had fallen in love with him. He was very possessive and over-bearing. I didn't mind because I have jealous tendencies. I had just turned 18 and wanted to go to my first club. He would not take me. We were staying in a hotel that night when the argument broke out. I don't know what was said to cause the final snap, but next thing I knew I was pinned to the wall and being slapped across the face. I didn't know what to do. I had my car…I wanted to leave. I couldn't. He cried. He promised he would never do it again.

Yeah right.

I stayed with this man for 3 years of my life. I was 20 years old by the time I finally broke out of my cell. I was in prison for 3 years of my life with the worst warden you could possibly imagine. I grew up a lot in those 3 years.

The entire time I stayed with him I think he hit me about a dozen times. It wasn't bad. The physical abuse you can handle. The mental and emotional abuse you can't. I was told that I was ugly…that no one would ever want me but him. I was told that I was fat, that I was worthless, that I was lazy. Meanwhile I was working 14 hours a day and still coming home to wash his clothes, clean his room, and make him dinner. He was working a 5 hour shift at Taco Bell. I supported his habit after he stopped selling Marijuana. I paid up to $20 a night for him to get high. He called me a "stupid bitch". I was always doing something dumb or ignorant. Nothing was ever good enough for him.

As if this wasn't enough, he was cheating on me. He was cheating on me with some low life bimbo from down the street. A girl who claimed to be my friend. They both lied in my face for months until I finally found evidence. Innocent until proven guilty, you know. When I made him get tested, he had ghonheria. Who knows who the hell he got it from. I didn't have it. I assumed it was her and walked down the street with the intention of kicking her ass (I did, but that's besides the point).

A year or so later I finally got fed up with his crap. I left and moved back home. When I first started dating him, I weighed 115lbs. When I moved home I weighed 95lbs. It took me about 3 months of being home to gain the weight back. Now I'm up to a healthy 125lbs and I'm loving life. Since I've been home and away from him I have gained a whole lot of self-respect and self-esteem. I do for myself. I love myself. It took me a harsh wake up call to realize that I had to love myself before anyone else could.

You are probably wondering what gave me the courage to leave. Well, it wasn't anything in particular. Actually I just decided one day that I didn't have to deal with his shit. I paid his bills…not vice versa. I wasn't happy. I wasn't loved. I wasn't happy. I would have never been happy with him.

Anyone can get out of an abusive situation. It doesn't take tremendous strength. You gain your strength back over time. It only takes determination. If you set your mind to doing something…you can accomplish anything. I don't know where I would be if I was still with him. Probably a broken soul. Maybe dead. The realization of that scares the hell out of me. You may say that I didn't have it so bad. I didn't. I know that. But keep one fact in mind…physical bruises go away…mental bruises do not ever heal.

If you are in an abusive situation right now and need someone to talk to who will understand your fears and problems…I can be reached at xOnly4Us2x@aol.com.

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