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It Gets Easier

My Best Shot at Advice/Perspective

By L. M.Published 6 years ago 7 min read
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Honey, I know it stings.

I know it burns you down to the core.

They weren’t worth the time and dedication for such a cruel ending.

Yes, I see the bruises.

I’ve seen them in the mirror.

I’ve cried the tears.

I still cry them.

Every day is a fight.

I know, love.

To be honest I’m not very sure where to start this. I’m not sure what went wrong. I used to think it was where I went wrong. If you cannot relate to my introduction read these words carefully, please. Take them with you. Teach your children, your friend's children, your family, friends, and anyone who will listen.

Toxic people hide very well under a veil of mystery. I believe it’s just human nature to want to uncover the secrets and patch up the holes we find in others. If there is one thing I’d like to scream through a loudspeaker to the world it would be this: DO NOT ACCEPT TOXICITY AND/ OR ABUSE FROM ANYONE.

I was young when I met him; 15, to be exact. It started off magically. I was a freshman and he was a junior. It started with little glances in the lunch room, teasing each other and poking fun, and before I knew it, I met his family. I felt sparks. I just didn’t know they would burn me so badly.

There’s a fond little memory before it took a turn for the worst that I held onto when things got bad. His parents' house had a beautiful view of our local lake from the backyard, so we decided to go swimming in the freezing waves. We swam to a little island. We talked for hours until we decided to turn back and were met with a wheelbarrow hooked up to the tractor and enough blankets to burrito ourselves together to get warm as we rode back up to the house.

Soon after this, he left for the Army. We sent so many letters back and forth, full of adoration. I met my first serious love. He came home to finish his senior year and we were inseparable. By now I had clothes and a toothbrush at the house. His parents and I regularly visited while he was away, so we had such a close bond. They even introduced me to the rest of the family. We traveled together to see him graduate. We stayed with more family of theirs down in Georgia and felt the hospitality and breathed the pure and warm air.

Go ahead and insert your own cliché phrase about how perfect it seemed. The picture was crooked and I didn’t have the compulsion, or even the clue, to fix it.

The first time will never be the last. Please, please, PLEASE never tell yourself that lie. It was just a normal day for us. He had a project due the next day and we had talked about me helping him with it. So, Sunday morning when I woke up (I usually got up first), I got on the computer and started helping him.

We were no strangers to playing innocent pranks on each other. Even his mom would come downstairs to his abode in the basement to wake us with an air horn.

I was stumped. It was noon. I had been up since eight doing his project for him. Many times I gently tried to wake him. I got a clever idea, went over to the sink with a cup, filled it with a tiny bit of water, and poured it on him. Normally we’d giggle about it and get over it, so I turned away to go back to working when I saw nothing but white light in my eyes.

What? My confusion didn’t last long at all. He had hit me. Why? Did I deserve it?

The answer is always no. I didn’t deserve it. A man I loved violated my trust for the first time in what I know now to be the most disgusting way possible and he would only continue to do so.

And so the first breakup happened.

He went to AIT to finish his training.

More letters.

Maybe he’d change.

Yeah, he’ll change.

Not for me, he wouldn’t.

We picked up like it never happened, though I held resentment for him.

Abusers come in all shapes and sizes. They might not even abuse you all the time, but they can ruin you if you let them.

It all turns into a blur. The second time was a year later. We were engaged. He took me and his best friend to the beach and got down on one knee. Ring sizing, wedding planning; the whole nine yards.

He found an apartment that I moved into with him at 16. He started to get more comfortable with grabbing me, pushing me, and even leaving small bruises. I always covered them up. One night I came to bed and heard him hurting his dog, and then it was me. I slept on the couch until he begged me to come back to bed, forced me to come back to bed and sleep with him. Yes, you read that right. Me too. Too many times.

The next day we got into an argument and I tried to walk away. He put me in a chokehold, dragged me to the kitchen, and slammed my head off of the fridge.

I left again. I felt so broken and violated. How do you heal? How do you cope? Is this the cycle of abuse? How do you break it? I didn’t know.

My senior year he got a new girlfriend. I did my social media creeping for weeks before I messaged her. I warned her. I told her family. He was bad news. She got caught up in the charm too.

I went over on many occasions to see him again, but now she was there. We instantly clung to each other. We were close. We were intimate. We were all each other had to get through this. No one else understood. She became my best friend, my rock, and my battle buddy. We weren’t fighting a war, but every day was battle.

He hurt her one too many times and she left. I fell back to him again.

A friend of mine moved in with us. She had nowhere to go, so I offered the little I could. After my battle buddy moved out she and I got closer. For the first time, someone witnessed even a small part of what was going on.

The night I left I we were in the gym the apartments offered to their residents. He stormed in, fighting mad. He kicked me out. She pleaded with him to stay. We didn’t have many other options. For the first time, I reached out and found a way out. I left. His mom came with me while he was at drill to move our things out.

This is only a small portion of what I went through. All the details, even today, are hard to even spell out. The scars are enormous. The damage lasts, even years later. He’s not even in the same state anymore. Yet, I can still hear that voice and see that crooked smile.

Apologies were always eccentric. Candle lit baths, cooking dinner with drinks. Amazingly enough, he was kinder when he was drunk.

There isn’t just one lesson from my experience, and I’ll never really forget them. I was lucky. A lot of situations were far worse. I met my best friend, to this day, while we were both surviving this.

I’m 20 now. I have a beautiful baby girl and the most wonderful fiancé. I survived. I’m still healing, but I am alive and for that I am thankful. You can make it through this.

Know your value.

Red flag? Run.

They are volatile, will manipulate you, take all you have mentally, and rebuild you to their satisfaction. Be strong.

You are enough.

You are loved.

It is not your fault.

There is a light at the end of the tunnel.

You will be safe.

And with tears in my eyes, I can tell you: there is a way out.

24-hour numbers to call:

Suicide Prevention Lifeline

+18002738255

The National Domestic Violence Hotline

1-800-799-SAFE

Don’t ignore the signs.

Help those who can’t help themselves.

You just might save a life.

relationships
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About the Creator

L. M.

-insert witty banter here-

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