CN: domestic violence, child abuse, death
TW: domestic violence, r*pe, abuse
Trigger Warning: mentions of physical abuse, extreme violations of personal space/invasions of privacy, threats of violence, gendered slurs. This is a pretty heavy post.
Being in an abusive relationship is exhausting. You find yourself walking on eggshells, constantly trying to gauge your abuser’s moods and act accordingly; anticipating a bad day so you can prepare yourself for the impending damage, both mental and physical.
Once, I came home after dark and he, claiming he was worried, didn’t let me go out alone after that. I could go to the library but I needed to be back home at my curfew which was before it became dark. If I wasn’t I was subject to beatings and “panty checks”. He was convinced I was unfaithful and so would inspect me to find any evidence of “another man”.
I was only allowed to use the phone to call my mother but he dialed and held the phone to my ear.
The bathroom didn’t have a lock, so I didn’t have any privacy there either. If I took too long in the bathroom, he’d come in and check on me. He was worried I was “washing (myself) thoroughly to get rid of any signs of infidelity”
When we’d go to bed, he’d wrapped his arms and legs around me. If I needed to get up in the middle of the night, I would have to wake him. He wouldn’t go back to sleep until I came back to bed. Cuddling was a trigger for a long time after leaving him.
He said I couldn’t love my friends because I had him.
At first, I wasn’t allowed a cell phone. He eventually gave me a prepaid cellphone but I could only use it for him.
I thought that once I went to live with my mom, I’d have a bit more freedom. I was wrong. He’d call constantly, or show up unannounced. When he wasn’t at my mother’s house, I was able to use the phone and check my social media accounts. As soon as I heard him at the door, I logged off. I learned to do this after he became angry that I was messaging with friends. I stopped using my mother’s phone when he was around because he’d monitor the conversation.
I thought that once he started working I’d be free to come and go as I wanted. He’d be too busy to call my mother’s house to check if I was there. I was wrong. Although he lived in another borough, he managed to get a job 10 minutes away from where I lived. He worked full-time but still checked up on me every chance he could.
I wasn’t allowed to have a baby shower because it hurt his male pride. He said he would pay for everything the baby and I needed, and that I didn’t need anybody else buying me anything.
When we went out, I wasn’t allowed to make eye contact with people. I used to walk with my eyes downcast. I didn’t realize I did until after I left him and my brother and mom pointed it out. If I smiled at anyone, especially a man, I was accused of being unfaithful.
While I was pregnant, I slept a lot, of course. He’d come over and want me awake but I was so exhausted. He would accuse me cheating. Why was I so tired? Never mind that he continually kept tabs on me so even if I wanted to cheat I couldn’t have.
He threatened to burn down a friend’s house so I couldn’t go visit anymore. He said he didn’t care who he hurt. No one was going to keep him away from me.
Since I was no longer living with him, and I now had a baby, I became bolder. He never hit me when I lived with my mom. I was too afraid to leave him, so I started doing things I thought would make him want to leave me. I would go to my best friend’s house with my daughter, TJ and not come back at the expected time. He hated this particular friend. He even thought I was cheating on him with her. I told my mom not to answer his phone calls. Eventually he did start threatening to leave me and I acted nonchalant about it. I didn’t care. I wanted him to leave.
My best friend was disappointed about not being able to throw me a baby shower, so she decided to have a welcome home party for TJ when we were discharged from the hospital. TJ got the presents and he had to deal with it. He hated that my friends would hold TJ.
Then he became jealous of TJ. He didn’t like that I breastfed her. He said TJ was just borrowing my breasts, that they were really his. He hated that my attention was hers and not his.
I slept when TJ slept. It was the only sleep I could get. He became angry that I didn’t stay awake to talk to him.
He was at my mother’s house all the time and as soon as he left, he would call me. He’d become angry that I didn’t want to talk. I told him that he had just left after spending the whole day with me. He said it didn’t matter.
He once made me call another best friend because he had became jealous of my relationship with him. I grew up with this guy. We’ve been friends for almost 20 years. Jekyll was convinced that this friend was in love with me. So I called my friend and apologized for bothering him but Jekyll “needed to talk” to him. Jekyll asked my friend what he felt for me. My friend said, “Well, I love her. We’ve been friends for a very long time. I’d do anything for her”. Jekyll’s whole face changed. I knew I was in trouble.
That night I got one of the worst beatings he ever gave me. I was a lying whore. I was cheating on him with my best friend who lives an ocean away who I barely even talked to, because of Jekyll.
Jekyll even scrutinized the music I listened to for hidden meaning. The Killers’ All the Pretty Faces was clearly a message for him. When Brandon Flowers sang “I don’t feel like loving you no more,” it meant that I wanted to leave Jekyll. The lyric “you’re not going anywhere without me” was used to threaten me. Jekyll told me not to forget that I was his, that I indeed could not go anywhere without him.
Even after I finally left him, Jekyll still felt entitled to me. Someone told him I had become friendly with the local shop keep. He threaten the shopkeeper for “touching (his) merchandise”. He said it didn’t matter that we were no longer together. I was his forever.
I ended up getting an order of protection.
I decided to write this because a lot of people believe domestic violence is just that, violence, plain and simple. They aren’t aware that although many times physical and sexual violence is part of domestic violence, it isn’t the only type of abuse to exist. Financial abuse, reproductive coercion and emotional/psychological abuse are ones that very rarely get talked about.
Even when speaking to other survivors, some are surprised at the severity of Jekyll’s abuse.
This isn’t even a full account of what he did. There some things I feel are too gruesome to talk about. There are other things I don’t talk about for privacy issues.
Music, social media, phones and even a goddamn bathroom break are simple things that most people take for granted. These things remind me that I’m lucky to be alive because Jekyll monitored them heavily when we were together.
Being with him was suffocating, in every sense of the word.
TW/CN: domestic violence, r*pe, victim blaming, brief descriptions of abuse
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TRIGGER WARNING: Sexual assault/rape. Domestic violence. Reproductive coercion. Instances of victim blaming/shaming. Gas lighting.
I used to be one of those “I’m pro-choice but…” people. You know, the ones that say abortion is only acceptable if the woman’s health is in danger or she was raped. The type that slut shames without even realizing it. “Oh, well she should have used protection!” I was in my late teens; I thought I had all the answers.
At 19, I got together with my abusive ex; my daughter’s father. I never wanted kids. All I wanted was to go to college and work. Of course, in the beginning he wasn’t abusive. He was sweet and caring. He mentioned he wanted kids. I told him no. He never wanted to use condoms and after a while I didn’t fight him about it, because it was either get beaten and have him rape me, or have him rape but not get beaten. I consider what he did rape, because there was no active consent from me. (This may sound obvious but I’ve had people tell me I wasn’t raped because I “let him do it”.)
He would lament the fact that I wasn’t getting pregnant. He thought I was infertile. He was upset. It was my fault, he said. Finally, I became pregnant. I told him that I thought it would be better to abort. That I didn’t want to bring a kid to the world knowing I would struggle to raise them. That he knew I never wanted kids. It wouldn’t be fair to the kid. Then he told me I should have been on birth control, or made him wear condoms. Never minding the fact that when I would ask him, he’d threatened to beat me or worse.
I talked to him about adoption. But he wasn’t listening. I was forced to carry to term. I had to fake being happy. After my daughter was born I was diagnosed with postpartum Depression. My abuser made me feel like a failure because of it. He said I wasn’t a good enough mother because I had a hard time breast-feeding.
I finally got the courage to leave him for good when my daughter was barely two months old. He retaliated by trying to have her removed from my care. He hasn’t been in our lives since, thanks to an order of protection.
I have to say this now:
I love my daughter. Honestly, she is what keeps me going some days. She’s awesome and wonderful and I’ve learned (and am still learning) a lot from her. She comforts me when I’m sad, and when she tells me she’s happy I know I’m doing the best I can. I would like for her to look back at her childhood and know that I did the best I could. It’s why I’m in college. It’s why I’m doing everything I can to get out of the shelter. She amazes me every day. She has the greatest personality. If this sounds like I’m bragging, it’s because I am. My daughter is just great. She’s smart and it amazes sometimes that this kid could be mine. But it took me a while to get to this point and sometimes I struggle with my feelings of resentment, not towards her but of how she got here.
I say this because most think that pregnancy is the best thing that could happen to a woman. That as soon as a baby is born a woman instantly connects to her child. That if you don’t bond well at first, the woman is somehow acking. She isn’t good enough. There must be something wrong with her. Indeed, if a woman wants to be child-free she is fighting her “natural instincts” because all women want kids.
During and after my experience with my abuser, I learned a lot. My views have changed a lot. I believe that abortion should remain safe and legal and on demand. Abortion shouldn’t be only for women whose lives are at risk or are survivors of rape. Abortion isn’t always a hard decision. Abortion is OK. Abortion is good and sometimes it’s the most responsible thing to do. I know now that every woman faces a different situation and that every woman makes the best decision as she sees fit. I said this in one of the earlier posts of this blog, that in my abuser’s attempts to make me into the “perfect” little housewife he created an even (bigger than I already was) feminist. Funny, how that works.
I’ve already discussed it with my boyfriend. I’ll be aborting if my BC fails. He is 100% supportive. In fact, when we were getting to know each other one of the first things I asked him were for his thoughts on abortion/reproductive rights. His response: “I’m pro-choice. It’s not my place nor do I have the right to tell any woman what to do with her body.”
No need to explain why but I will:
My current financial situation
My current living situation
My mental health
My first pregnancy had some complications
I need to stay healthy and happy for the kid I already have.
But, even if I had the money, or the house and no health problems whatsoever, I would still abort. Because I do not want any more kids. That simple; end of story.
No woman should be forced to carry a pregnancy they do not want.
I should add that lots of other women who’ve been forced to carry to term don’t end up loving their kids. I honestly do not know the right words. I struggle a lot sometimes with my feelings towards my pregnancy, and I hate how my daughter came to be here. I attend parenting classes. I’m aware that it’s not her fault that she’s here, and it’s not mine either. I really don’t know how to say it, I guess I’m lucky? The women who do not end up feeling a bond with their children should not be shamed either. This is a difficult topic. I set out to write how I feel, and I’m not sure it’s being communicated properly. The take away should be: we need to get rid of abortion stigma, some women want babies, others don’t. Some women end up with babies they didn’t want and end up loving them, some women end up with babies they didn’t want and the results often end in tragedy. We need choices and our bodily autonomy. Every child born should be wanted from the get-go.
Information and resources if you or someone you know is in an abusive relationship: http://www.thehotline.org/
For info and resources on abortion:
I’ve written a new post on forgiveness. I no longer feel the way I did when I posted this.
TRIGGER WARNING: domestic violence/sexual assault