All Day Armor

To the person who puts on armor every day and would rather everyone think you’re cold hearted and uncaring: I get it. You got hurt. Badly probably by someone who cared about you, or worse, someone whose whole job is to care about you. That can range from family to lovers, and because of that the result ended up being humanity died a bit. And it wasn’t one thing that’ forced your hand to hit the fuck it button it became a list of things that happened. I get it. Instead of putting on the armor when needed, you just started to wear it all the time.

When I hit 16, I got into my first actual relationship with a boy only a year ahead of me. In the beginning of the relationship he seemed sweet, and. He even joked about getting married after high school. I will never claim to be the perfect girlfriend to him but nothing I did, warranted what happened when we broke up.

How the actual breakup played out is complicated but the long short of it is that by my senior year in the fall, he hated me. Not the normal “you broke my heart’ hate, but it went deeper. He started calling me a racial slur and a whore. To make the situation worse was me going through my own issues which made my mental health worse. At one point we made a stalemate, and he stopped. He tried being kinder to me, he apologized for how he treated me and he seemed genuine with the offer to stay friends, he even let me talk freely with him. Then New Year's Day happened.

We were chatting about life, and I mentioned how things were getting better and I felt well. He commented on how he felt like when we dated we didn’t have time to get to know each other and he could be a better boyfriend, and asked me to get back together. I firmly said no and got presented with:

“Fine, you whore.” (I'm exaggerating the politeness of the insult) We descended back into the verbal abuse because I said no to wanting to be with him. Needless to say, graduation could not come soon enough. But you’re probably thinking: “This is a high school with security staff. How did he get away with using the N-word? '' He didn’t , I did the only thing available to me and told the school security cops. When I told them of the threats (yes he threatened me by making jokes about killing me or black people in general.). My faith in humanity started to crack after being told by the security cops, in order for me to be safe all they could do is to have us both sign a contract stating if either of us talked to each other during school that we both would get penalized.

A school’s solution to a boy using the n-word, making harmful racial jokes was to punish me the same way they would punish him. Not send him to counseling, not give him a talking to about how this language is harmful, they would punish both of us, if we ever talk to each other. Meaning this little incel in training could've come up and slapped me had his buddies beat me up and we would have received the same punishment. (And before you say charges would have been filed for assault, under the contract rules, I still would have gotten suspended!) That made me lose some faith in authority figures. But it wasn’t the last time.

In college, I went on a date with a guy who I enjoyed talking to. I was excited because he was fun to talk to, and also the biggest thing that got my attention was him running after me to ask me out on a date. He worked in a shop next to the comic shop I used to work at; I had quit when classes started again. Because I wasn’t around as much he took the first opportunity to come after me and ask me out.

The first date went fine at first. He picked me up in his car; we went to a make-out spot, did our thing (no sex) and he asked if I wanted to go back to his place. I saw no red flags (poor naïve rabbit) and he took me back to his place. He offered a hit off his bong and offered alcohol. (In my defense I was not even 21 at this point and wanted the experience.) I didn’t drink or have enough to have any effect but I do remember him pulling me into his bedroom and locking the door. He must have thought I was out of it because he kept trying to pin me down as if I was drunk and talking to me like I couldn’t hear him. There was a struggle and he got me flipped over, exposed my back and stopped whispering. Very clearly I heard him ask: “Since you like BDSM, can I whip you?” He started talking about how he had a bullwhip hanging around that he could use on me.

Maybe it was the whimpering or me saying please no, but he let me go. He pulled the sympathetic “oh it was a joke” card and thought I would want that because of our talks. It terrified me. He dropped me off at home and part of me didn’t want to go back out with him ever again but that part was not in charge at that moment and agreed to a second date because he was really “really” sorry. He claimed it was because he was high and a little drunk before picking me up. (Because that’s what you admit to a girl you’re trying to sleep with. That you were high and drunk on your ‘date’) He offered to take me to any movie I wanted. That part was a lie because when I suggested an animated movie he told me to pick a movie for adults. So we saw Skyfall instead. (This should have been my biggest red flag. He met me because I worked in a comic shop. A comic shop. I talked about Adventure Time and his response to me is to ‘pick a film for adults’)

We watched the movie and as we got ready to go; he realized he didn’t have his keys. It had just snowed so our thoughts were that he dropped it. So we're searching around the car, and he looks in his car and realizes that he locked the keys in the car. I’m panicked and honestly angry because even my sympathetic side is done with all of this. He suggests just getting a cab and I agree because I just want to go home until he says that the cab is only going to his place. He was broke and did not have enough money to get us both home. Meaning I would have to stay the night.

The entire ride there, my anxiety was in jumping off the walls. Thinking “did he plan this?” “What's going to happen? Should I call my grandparents and ask them to come get me?” The answer to the last question was no, because it was midnight when the taxi showed up. If I could go back in time, I would've told younger me, to call my grandparents and apologize but to please not go with him. Or better yet walk back into the movie theater and tell them that there’s a man trying to take you home, and he’s scaring you. Damn the consequences.

That ended up being the most uncomfortable sleep of my life. He insisted I sleep in his bed. He tried to get me to take my clothes off but; I slept in my clothes with my jacket on. I tried to text someone, and he told me that if I was texting another guy, he would be very jealous and upset. He poked me at me and tried to get me to ‘get more comfortable’ but I just kept pretending I was asleep until morning. I don’t think I slept that night.

He asked his parents to bring his spare key, and he offered to take me home but not to school, and if I wanted to go to school I had to pay him to be dropped off. I took the home option. It took some time, but I got to campus, told someone and they suggested reporting it to the dean's office. The proper people were called, I had to repeat what happened at least three times. And finally days later a voicemail from the police.

They weren't going to investigate. Even though I gave a name, a phone number even where he worked. (I didn’t know the address so I could only give vague instructions) Their reasoning: I took too long to report it.

I went through all the proper channels. But because it had been three days, they assumed any evidence would be gone. (keeping in mind his roommates SAW ME BOTH TIMES.) Keeping mind, possession of marijuana (this was before it was legal) and giving alcohol to a someone under the age of 21 and 2 attempts at sexual assault. But regardless of all the information, it wasn’t enough. And he got to walk free. I still sometimes see him and I confronted him once, but he just feigned ignorance.

I no longer feel comfortable with sleepovers unless I know everyone involved and I don’t like anyone controlling my mobility. Both are things I'm still working on. I still get nervous about other people driving me and staying over at another person’s home still on some level terrifies me.

The thing that made me lose hope, that made me snap and give up was with my fiancé. It was pride week (because it had to happen the week of pride). A couple we knew asked to come by and pick them up after the celebrations to go out drinking. They gave us directions, and we went by around the right time, got to the door and we immediately realized the problem. They had told us to pick them up at their spouse's grandfather’s house. The neighborhood had houses that looked like they belonged in Hollywood with perfect yards and very judgmental eyes. Which is the fun part because the grandfather was a retired judge.

So when the grandmother opened the door this is what she got to bear witness to. An African American girl in a spaghetti-strapped tank wearing a purple leather collar. Next to her was a Caucasian trans woman also wearing a tank top. We both looked uncomfortable and out of place. We got to meet the retired judge, and that’s when the drinking started. Because he was a conservative judge who was not happy to find out that their grandchildren had gone to a Pride celebration. They made us stay for dinner before going out to get more liquor.

In no way do I consider myself an alcoholic but the tension about murdering me. I kept getting served this drink called the depth charge. By the time we left I was woozy, and sleepy. I tried to stay awake at the bar but I eventually asked to be dropped off at home. The plan was that they would come back in a few hours and hang out (they wanted to meet our cat) and then possibly drop them off somewhere with another person. I went to sleep on our couch and woke up to a text saying they were coming back, so I got re-dressed and waited.

It was fun when they arrived until my fiancé told me they were staying the night. There’s a few problems. The being afraid of staying over at someone's home works both ways. I’m also not comfortable with people randomly staying with me unless circumstances call for an emergency. In this case, yes they did not want to go back to the grandfather's house BUT they supposedly had plans with another couple which left me agitated and on edge.

My fiancé tried to brush it off as no big deal but this just meant, I wasn’t sleeping tonight. It didn’t mean I didn’t trust them but they gave me no heads up, no time to prepare for them to come over and here I am trying to calm down and not look panicked. I stayed up and tried to focus on other things while they slept. My partner tried to ask what was wrong through text and they said to be honest.

So I was. I told them I was angry and felt a little betrayed because they knew this made me uncomfortable and made me feel like the bad guy for not wanting them there. And they agreed it was out of line but still didn’t seem to understand why I was mad. And I repeated something back to them they had said about how “there is no talking to you.”

(If you are reading this far and you have any issues with domestic violence and find it triggering, please stop reading here)

They came up behind me, grabbed my collar and began trying to pull it off. The collar was a gift and specifically made for me. I grabbed it and whispered for them to stop. They began choking me with it until I let go. They demanded that I drop them off at their mothers' house and that they were done with me. I was forced to cry outside into the rain begging, and once the door was closed behind them I found out they weren't mad.

It was a whole setup. They knew having spontaneous visits triggered me, so they did it. They knew the choking would trigger me so they did it. They wanted to have complete control of the situation and the only way to do that was to push me over the edge enough that I couldn’t control myself anymore. I felt compelled to just listen.

The messed up part was that they took the chance of our friends waking up just to get an upper hand on my psyche.

I don’t feel as comfortable laying out my mental issues as much as I used to. I also don’t feel comfortable with people behind me.

In conclusion. I get it. It’s easier to wear the armor every day, even if it drives off the people you care about. Even if it paints you in the wrong light, even if it's not who you really are. You remember the days where you trusted everyone, and you wanted to believe things could be better. But life did a splendid job at showing you how cruel it could be. So you put on the armor and put up shield because you're too terrified of the consequences on on the one day you leave home without it.

To the person who no longer trusts anyone: It gets easier to trust again. Just not right now.