I'm in a happy, healthy relationship. He respects my boundaries, knows my triggers, and we communicate (most days). Most importantly, he's patient and genuine about everything he feels and how he goes about things. He's my fiercest supporter and my best friend. He's basically a really kick ass man and I love him to bits! Unfortunately, as most of you know, when you come from abuse, it can be hard to find your way to healthy relationships where you get treated the way you deserve. It's also hard to demand proper treatment and to walk away when you're not being valued and loved. Here are some of the bad reactions I've gotten. Have you gotten any?
"D"
I'm one of those "repressed memory" type of survivors. The first time I realized I was sexually abused as a child, I was a freshman in High School.
This guy from my Biology class saw me and understood my type way too well. I was insecure, cute, had no friends, and had no idea what I was worth. I'm pretty sure I was just his type. He was three years older than me, held back a year because of some sad puppy-dog story he told me about how his parents were split and his mom shipped him out here and told the schools he wasn't at a maturity level prepared for Senior year. Maybe it was true? I fell for all of it.
He made those stupid googly eyes at me, told me how beautiful I was, how smart, how mature I was- how I wasn't like the other girls. He told me everything I wanted to hear. He told me about how he was a virgin, waiting for the right girl- how he felt like I was the right girl. He invaded my personal space. Texted me, called me, AIM'ed me every chance he got. He asked me on a "date" to the movies and we saw Black Dahlia I think and I took my friend with- thinking it'd keep the date neutral and he wouldn't get the wrong message. I have no idea what he was thinking or what I was thinking but next thing I know, I'm sitting in a movie theater next to my girlfriend, and he's unzipped my pants, rubbing his big-ol'-nasty-ass hands all over parts of me he had no right to. There was groping and ass touching and hands attackin' the vagoo. I didn't even understand what he was doing or what he wanted. I was so mortified and embarrassed and ashamed. I felt so violated. He unzipped his pants and tried to get me to give him a "handy" (which I didn't understand at the time) and I didn't. I just sat there. Shocked.
Then it hit me. I've been here before. Fragments of my childhood and unpleasant times with my mom hit me in the face and I was way overwhelmed. Mostly, I felt wounded and broken. I told him about what I remembered- how my mom was an alcoholic and had "touched" me and how I was sorry- that I just wasn't the type of person who'd be good at doing "sexy stuff" and that I hoped he'd understand.
Oh, he understood.
I think knowing that I was sexually abused was a big green light for him. He heard, " I have an inability to say "stop," a terrible relationship with my parents (which meant no one to tell me I deserved better), and I would always be apologetic and willing to "try." In class, he'd press his gross, eager body all over me- pin me, stick his tongue down my throat, and press me for "affection." I never said no. I felt so disgusted with myself and so trapped in a bad situation I didn't recognize as bad. I thought I was supposed to like what was going on- I was just broken somehow and didn't like sexual things because of where I came from.
Eventually I found out he wasn't a virgin (he'd probably been screwing everything that moved, but whatever), he drank a shit ton with his buddies, smoked pot- and he was just way too much for me. He overwhelmed me. I think I broke it off or he got tired of waiting so that was that.
"C"
Then I met my next boyfriend. He was a decent guy. Had a lot of friends and was really liked. His friends became my friends and I loved it. I felt included and liked. His guy friends would all comment on how jealous they were- how pretty I was. Things were good for a while and we'd talk every day, either on the phone or online. He was my best friend and I felt so happy to be with someone who didn't push my boundaries. He was respectful of me. Then one day, his friends got comfortable enough to start cracking the typical high school jokes. Something about incest and "mother fuckers" was mentioned and I flipped out. It went on for a week and he'd always joke with them. Jokes about tits, about dicks, about awkward sex, and rape. I felt so damn uncomfortable. I finally told him about what I had remembered about what had happened with my mom and his first response was:
"No wonder you're such a good kisser!"
His second was anger. With me. He said that I was trying to keep him from being himself. That I didn't like the real him and I was trying to change him. Eventually he dumped me. Got back with me out of pity. Then dumped me again. I lost all my friends and they all seemed angry with me for whatever reason. I felt so alone. I cried for months, struggled with some serious depression, and waited for the day when he would come back to me and tell me he loved me. He didn't. (Duh! )
I can't quite put my finger on why I was so hurt but that was by far the worst pain I've ever experienced in my life. I felt so empty. I think I've always been pretty bad about being afraid of abandonment but he really put the nail in the coffin. I was unwantable. No one would ever want to come back for me. I had no value and if he didn't come back, there was no hope. My past and the "crazy broken person" I was then was just too much for any man, or person, to handle. I felt guilty for existing.
"J"
This story is an odd one. We never really technically dated and I never really wanted to date but he's always been a partner of mine and I love the guy. He knows my story like the back of his hand and I know his. He's a fantastic man, actually. Unfortunately, he had his own healing to do, and because I was there to support him, we ended up really bonding, really hurting each other, and he fell in love with me. He saw me go through my break up with "C" and he wanted to be my savior. We talked on the phone for hours at a time and he was always there when I needed a pick me up. He'd call me up just to tell me a joke and give me a giggle. He sometimes still calls and says, "Pudding" because for some reason, it makes me laugh. I led him on because I liked the attention and love- though I was pretty up front about that.
When I told him about the abuse I'd been through, he sympathized and comforted me but he became really protective of me. He treated me like some sort of delicate flower. I hated it. I couldn't breathe. All he had for me was love and patience- but only if that's what I had to give in return. He was my only real support and the only one who really understood what it meant to be abused, because he'd seen his fair share of trauma in his life as well. Though he never really hurt me or furthered the feelings of abuse and trauma, he really set me back. He made me see myself as someone who couldn't stand on my own two feet without a man to prop me up. Without him. I'd feel lonely and empty when he left or shut me out of his life, like he often did because of his unrequited love for me, with him- I felt angry and walled off from the world. It was hard to grow around him.
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