I happily took on the task of making him feel loved and supported no matter what, it was me who was going to show him unconditional love.Our relationship started as a dream, we were young and thought I was in love. Yes we were obsessed with each other, I knew that drove my parents crazy, I wanted to be with him 24/7, and he with me.His friends were over which was even more disrespectful and insulting to him so he locked me in his room for 4 hours to teach me a lesson. One day at high school we received individual research projects for my Community and Family Studies class. As I was reading through all of the photocopied research I had collected, I started to cry uncontrollably.I cried as each line perfectly described me, but I also cried with relief, relief that I now had a name for what I was going through, it was Domestic Violence, I was being abused.
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Slowly little things were said that I initially thought came from a caring place, “wow you look like you have gained weight”, “you really think that guy was hitting on you?
I mean not many guys like a girl your size and a flat chest”; “I don’t like when you wear those shorts, they are way too short.
It got to the point that I felt I could no longer figure out what I did to set him off, I just knew that when he reached a certain point of anger there was nothing I could do to stop it.
I just had to keep my head down and wait for it to be over.