Tag: anonymous

Finding My Voice: A survivor of domestic abuse tells her story


**Editor’s Note: This is a true story. It contains depictions of emotional, mental and sexual abuse that some readers may find disturbing. We have chosen to run this story unedited because it is an important topic. Reader discretion is advised**

My story;

Notice the semicolon is there to point out the continuing of a sentence, or a story. My story is far from over even when I wanted it to end, or in other ways my life to end.


Just the word alone can cause tension, and cause silence. My abuse came in the form of words, lies, manipulation, and guilt.

Emotional Abuse: any act including confinement, isolation, verbal assault, humiliation, intimidation, initialization which may diminish the sense of identity, dignity, and self-worth. Welcome to almost two years of my life. It started happy, safe, and a place I called love. It didn’t take long for the word love to become the words “You’re crazy”, “Just shut up”, “I don’t like your family”, “If you loved me you would do this for me”. I was happy and loved everything, including life. I loved him, and he said he loved me, but it wasn’t true. He did everything right, and I did everything wrong.

He compared me to other girls saying things like “Why don’t you wear shorts like that.” I always thought that was funny because he used to tell me that I couldn’t wear shorts. Short made me a slut, tank tops made me a slut, I wasn’t allowed to be seen in public looking cute in my romper, because every man just wanted to sleep with me. He made me feel terrible about the way I looked from things like my butt wasn’t big anymore, the little gap in my teeth I needed to fix, I didn’t pleasure him right.

The first time we had sex he told me that if I would’ve wanted to wait he would have had some fun with me then dropped me. He used to say to always say that he was kidding every time he would put me down. Such as, “Oh I’m just kidding! God why can’t you take a joke!”

Like Halloween night when I and my sisters always dressed up, I mean who doesn’t right? I wasn’t allowed inside because I was going to embarrass him in front of his friends.

How he couldn’t please me, but I had to give him blow jobs. I’m sure you all can already guess that I was never allowed to say no, but he was. He made me fear his every move; I never knew what side I would get. I made effort, paid for everything gave him every minute I could. But my family was trying to break us up, my friends were stupid, I was stupid for believing that he didn’t love me. His anger came next in ways I feared more than the yelling. He punched out both his rearview mirrors, and his clock then said “Well you made me mad!” “Damn it why do you always have to do that you make me so mad!” He never hit me, but I feared if I would’ve stayed he would. He yelled at me for thinking that as well saying I was stupid again. He canceled plans all the time, but I was always the one who wasn’t making effort.

I must tell you guys my world at the time was very black, dark, cold, alone, forgotten, and filled with fear. So with the next part please understand how foggy my world was.


Yeah I never thought so either. I remember lying there one morning he had to get up early, and I woke up to him on top of me. I never slept with much on, so it wasn’t hard for him. I trusted him, and I didn’t know what to do. I asked him what he was doing, and he just replied waking you up. I let him finish, and he left. He told me that I was tight, but really he was just forcing himself into me. I laid there knowing it felt wrong, but he loved me so it was okay. Right?

I want everyone to know this: having sex with someone, male or female, without their permission or consent is RAPE!

He would joke that when I said no to sex he would just rape me. I had to tell him to stop saying that phrase, because it’s not a term you throw around. It serious. He can say whatever he wants, but that morning It was wrong, and I never was the same. He was rough in that area it hurt more times than I felt good.

I wrote in my journal one day “Sometimes I feel as though I can’t breathe under the sadness and loneliness I feel.” I woke up many nights next to someone alone. I didn’t love him, and he was abusing me. I struggled with everything depression, suicide, anxiety, and an eating disorder. All of which he made fun of it all, and he would openly tell people about them all. And my body was something he knew I had trouble with. I lost almost 40 pounds within 2 months. I stopped eating, and the only thing he ever said was, “You don’t have a butt anymore.” I wanted my life to end so badly.

But fortunately it didn’t.

He thought he had power over me, but he didn’t. It wasn’t until I started to go to therapy that I began to find my voice again; my world was slowly turning back to light. He told me that I wasn’t enough, and no one would put up with me ever. But much to his dismay I was more than enough.

My family had always been there, and I learned that there was power in the word no. I found my voice, and I left. He thought he could manipulate me to come back, but I was done! I never looked back. I felt freedom, love, happiness, and I actually wanted to live.

My life is so much better without him. I woke up one day, and he was finally gone. He wasn’t even so much of a memory. I was clean from him.

If anyone takes anything from this please know you are not alone, you are loved, and you deserve better. God has a story for you, and it’s not over. Don’t let someone take you whole identify and make it theirs. Say no, stand up for yourself, any abuse is never accepted, and if someone hurts you leave them. Words hurt, but you don’t need to ever put up with it. Also you are not someone’s sex toy. Don’t let someone do to you what he did to me.

I’m so incandescently happy these days, he was not my happiness. There is more to my story, but for another time I suppose.

Love life, love who you are.


A Survivor of Abuse.

Somebody That I Used To Know: Part II

**Editor’s Note** This story contains profanity that has been edited.

Dear me,

You’re 17. It’s not easy for you. It’s not easy at all. You stand in the mirror at night and stare at yourself thinking you’re fat, ugly, not good enough. You listen to those people in school who call you hippo, pizza face, hooker. You cry because you just want to be liked. You pinch the skin on your stomach and legs, you hate yourself. It sucks, but you’re going to survive.

One day you’re going to grow up and be who you always wanted to be. Their hateful opinions will not matter, and they won’t bother you. In fact, you never think of them at all. One day you’re going to finish high school and be finished. One day those people will be nothing but a distant memory that you never revisit. You grow, you learn, you change, and you learn to love everything about yourself, including that stomach that you pinched and hated so much. It’s just a stomach and everyone has one.

Remember this: “Stop looking for flaws. Stop looking for differences. You are perfect. You are more than enough. You are the best thing that has ever happened to you. And you are f—— beautiful.” One day you’ll live by these words.

Much love,