MY DOMESTIC ABUSE STORY


I am a victim of domestic abuse. 

From the age of 16 to (almost) 21, I was emotionally abused (luckily, not physically abused but it was close at points) by my high school sweetheart. 

It all started so innocently. I was 16, he was 17. I was in my fifth year of high school and he was a senior. It was a high school relationship with weekend dates to TGI Fridays and holding hands. And it was my first relationship.

I like to think if this hadn't been the only "love" I'd know, I wouldn't have tolerated it. I would have stepped back and addressed that his behaviour simply was not acceptable. 

But I let him get away with it. His excuse?
"I'm not jealous, I'm territorial.
'Jealous' is when you want something that is not yours.
'Territorial' is protecting what is already yours" 
It took me 3 years to realise that his idea of "territorial" was controlling me. This included sending abusive messages from my social media accounts to old friends (that he did not like - through no fault of their own) and then hiding all evidence so I was none the wiser, deleting and unfollowing friends, calling me at odd times to check where I was, watching my location on Find a Friend (iPhone app), guilt tripping me to cancel on work nights out, holidays with friends, parties and events.

It wasn't until recently that I heard of the term "gaslighting". According to google, this is the act of "manipulating (someone) by psychological means into doubting their own sanity". Ironically, in the last year and a half of our relationships. I was crippled with anxiety and pumped up with anti-depressants. The arguments increased and so did his physical need to release his anger. Thankfully I escaped most of this, but witnessed many a wall or door or unit be kicked, punched, slammed etc. It wasn't until the threat to punch me made me realise that this was very wrong.

Just before our four year anniversary, I came to my senses. My friends (who my ex had tried to push away from me many a time) became wise to his tricks and showed me all that I had mistaken in the name of "love". 

I ended it. 

But it didn't stop there.

A month later, I was living my best single life. It was late December and I was celebrating the festivities when my ex showed up at the bar I was at. Oblivious to this, I partied on. It wasn't until a few hours in, I was pulled outside by the arm and shouted at for "purposely rubbing my new single life in his face". Thankfully (for me), my friends stepped in and I was safe. They, on the other hand, were threatened and one even pushed down the stairs. 

The weeks following that were terrifying. He started following me, parking in the same car park near my work, waiting around for me. 

I came back to my car one night after being on a Tinder date to find him waiting in his car. I clocked him and ran to the safety of my own car only to be stopped by him. He'd gathered every gift from the previous 4 years and threw them around the car park whilst screaming every word under the sun. I tried to get away, climbing into the car and trying to drive away. Only for him to sit in the front seat and refuse to get out. I called my dad, the police, anyone that could help me to which he eventually clocked and left. 

Coincidentally, I noticed the passenger and drivers seat doors on both sides had been keyed.

This was the final straw. I reported him to the police and a 6 month court case for harassment, vandalism and stalking began. Countless witness reports and court hearings took place. He admitted to all of it.

And the result? He walked away not guilty. 

To this day, I still see him. I am conscious that he still checks up on my social media. And I don't think I'll ever be able to walk home at night without checking behind me after every corner. 

Whilst I think the first step in fighting this behavior is reporting it, I'm disappointed that the justice system took the side of my abuser. And what did I get, a rape alarm from the local police department and a hefty repair bill to have my car resprayed. 

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