Survivor Story #1



So, once upon a time, I thought I met my prince charming. It was our senior year of high school.


Just kidding – I totally didn’t expect to fall in love with him. We were in the same chorus class in high school, and the same homeroom for the past 4 years. We never spoke a word to each other until one day he asks:

“Sarah, where is our homeroom????” I look at him, and smile: “Come with me.” And that was the beginning of my on and off 3 years of hell.

We dated for a year, and things were blissful. He was kind, attentive, and charming. He would make me laugh until my stomach hurt. He would make me smile until my mouth hurt. I think part of the reason why he gained so much control over me for so long was because he knew I loved him more than anything in the world. But little did I know, he would make me cry until my insides burst. He would make my stomach growl with fear, anticipation. And at one point, he made me bleed. He made my lips swell. And he eventually broke my heart in half.

So, we broke up first because of distance. He was at a school across the state from mine. Breaking up because of long distance happens. Fast forward a couple of months later: when I finally had my shit together, decided to go to community college, got an acceptance and became a happier person….He decided to weasel back into my life:

“Sarah, I miss you and I want you back. I can’t live without you. I am lonely. You and I are meant to be.” Sounds like prince charming, right? I thought so too. I agreed, and we got back together. I even cheated on a casual boyfriend with this guy (Of course, I was honest and told him what happened.) He was my Kryptonite.

This is when the shit hits the fan. On the weekend eve before my sophomore year, my boyfriend and I decided to go to a party. He drank half a bottle of Bacardi 151, and I decided to get hammered as well. We both were walking back from the party, arguing about who knows what. The vision is blurry, but I remember calling him a “mean bitch” and him saying “you are too!” I let him into my apartment, down to my room, and got him a trashcan to throw up in. Then, he got angry with me, called me a bitch again, and punched me in the eye. I remember falling on the floor, starting to cry. Then I got up – he bit my lip. I yelled “YOU BITCH!” and threw my trashcan (previously given to him) at his face. The rest was a blur: calling my best friend at the time in panic, his and my friends rushing to the apartment, a group of friends were helping me, and a group of friends were helping him. He was bleeding too. I remember panicking and wondering what was going to happen to him. I had an anxiety attack in my drunken state, and couldn’t sleep the entire night. He passed out quietly.

The next morning, I told him what happened. His response? “I blacked out. I don’t remember that. It definitely didn’t happen.” But I started to cry, and I didn’t WANT the previous events to happen. But it did.

Over the next month or so, things were tense. I cried for a week straight. And my former best friend, also toxic, decided that he was not allowed to be in our apartment. This led not only to the break up of the boyfriend, but also the best friend.

He has never gotten physical with me since – but this is when the emotional abuse takes place. Which to me, is a lot harder to recognize.

8 months role by: my ex and I decide to start dating again. He missed me. He was lonely. I was lonely. I was bored, honestly. But I still had some lingering doubts and paranoia. I went to see counseling immediately after this happened – but stopped.

Things were going well for a while. We were happy, my new sorority friends loved him. We all hung out, and it was a great environment. He and I fought here and there, but by Christmas time…things went sour.

I think it started off by the fact that I wasn’t the nicest to him. I sometimes got bored, and even took a break from him for a few days while in October.  This hurt him a lot. I said that he should eat “healthier” because I wanted to be healthy too…this is something I tried to talk to him about in a gentle manner. Regardless, on the day before New Year’s Eve – he broke up with me for his friend, who was a girl. He also bought me a baby white bunny for my Christmas present, but decided to neglect it after dumping me. My heart was crushed…

We eventually decided to hang out again, with him having a girlfriend. He would call me saying that he would break up with this girl eventually, and that he loved me. But he was still talking to her, loving her, and being a boyfriend to her. He said he regretted what he did to me and that he didn’t find her attractive. I decided to just ignore him until he broke up with the girlfriend. I eventually slept with him while he was dating her. This is something I feel truly horrible about. But eventually, they broke up too.

After this was when he was calling me, telling me that “I always go back to him” and that “no one would ever love me for my anxiety except for him” and that “we should get back together because of our history.” There was a point when he said things like “I love you, I miss you, I want to be with you.” And then….he would become distant and a jerk. He never meant those things.

The last time we hung out was in the middle of March. I decided enough was enough. He spammed me with texts, emails, and phone calls. I went to my Title XI’s program at my college. I decided to file a no-contact order against him. This was not for his sake, but for mine as well. Not only was our relationship extremely abusive, it was toxic. I was toxic for him too. That’s the worst part about abusive relationships: they make you become an abusive factor too. Unfortunately, girls in my sorority heard about what happened and ended up telling fraternity members lies that “I filed sexual assault charges to get back at him” and horrible rumors. This almost broke me, but then I confronted the people who told the rumors. This almost broke me, but then I confronted the people who told the rumors. There is a stigma when you stand up for yourself as a woman.

I feel like he died, honestly. It’s strange not being able to talk to him anymore. But I am also so proud of myself. I am slowly, but surely, moving on from him into a hopeful future. In a way, I thank him for that – for making me realize he was no good, and that I deserve to love myself.

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