You’ve become so damaged that when someone tries to give you what you deserve, you have no idea how to respond.

“You tried to change, didn’t you? Closed your mouth more, tried to be softer, prettier, less awake. You can’t make homes out of human beings. Someone should have already told you that. And if he wants to leave, then let him leave. You are terrifying, and strange, and beautiful, something not everyone knows how to love.” –Warsan Shire

Who hasn’t changed certain things about them to seem more appealing to others? Who hasn’t pretended to be someone they’re not? Who hasn’t compared themselves to the most popular person? Who hasn’t looked in the mirror and hated themselves at one point? Most importantly, who hasn’t loved someone so much that in the process they have lost themselves? I will be the first to admit that I have done all of these things, and I can’t even count on two hands exactly how many times these “truths” ring true to me. This blog entry will only briefly cover the beginning of my “damage.”

First loves. I’m sure a name popped right into your mind after reading those two words. So many things to be said about this topic; young love. Puppy love. Happiness. Joy. Fun. At first I experienced all of those. But, then came fear, sadness, anger, defeat, and isolation. I was just 15 when I first met him. He was a year older than I was, a star football player. Who was I? I was only starting out in high school, hadn’t exactly figured out who I was as a person. I would be lying if I said that I fell in love instantly. I was hesitant at first because I still wasn’t over my forever long crush on someone I had met at church camp. Words of encouragement from friends and family echoed in my head, so I decided what the hell, I’ll give this guy a chance. A chance turned into just shy of two years. Let me tell you that everyone has demons, some stay hidden for a very long time, and others come out to play in just six short months. You can’t help who you fall in love with, but there should have been a line drawn between what I thought I deserved and what I would put up with. Looking back if I knew now what would happen, and how it would all play out, I’m sure that I wouldn’t do it again. Too much heartache, pain, and not to mention that I lost two of my very best guy friends in the process.

Am I a stronger person? Some would argue yes; I wouldn’t be who I am today without the struggles I went through. But do they see me flinch at the sight of a dodge truck? Do they feel that pit in their stomach when you see his friends out in public, and are so scared to round the corner and be face to face with him? Do they have the nightmares that feel so real you wake up in tears that you’re trying to hold in so no one can hear you? Before I go any further, I want to take the time to apologize to my friends and family. Not just for choosing a boy over them, but for not asking one of them for help. For not confiding in them about what I was going through. I am so sorry that I ever let this happen. I didn’t want to be seen as weak, I wanted someone to believe me, but the odds were against me. Hiding what I went through caused more pain than ever could have been imagined. There are family members and friends that have never heard this story, and for that I am deeply sorry. You do not have to read any further, but for those of you who are reading that may recognize these signs whether it be your relationship with your significant other or a best friend who seems a bit off, please take my words to heart. Do not stay; leave, move away if that’s what it takes. You will be a walking disaster for a while, but eventually you will be able to stand on your own two feet again. Will you get over it? Yes. Will you forgive him? Some can, I have yet to do so and it’s been six years. Will it ruin your life? You can let it, or you can overcome it and share your story with others. As mentioned in the last blog post, I’m trying to learn how to love myself the way that I know and deserve to be. Mentioned in this blog title, I have unfortunately learned that I have pushed some of the best people who I’ve crossed paths with away, because I didn’t think I deserved the good. So starting now, I am NOT settling for anyone or anything that comes my way; because the regret with pushing people out of my life stops NOW.

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The first time he raised a hand on me was after a football game. I was dropping him off at his truck. He was very upset because he had been injured during the game. Probably around fifty or one hundred feet away were three or four of his teammates just hanging out and talking. We were already arguing because I hadn’t acted in the way he wanted me to act about a situation. I wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing before he got out of my car. He asked me to look him in the eyes while he was talking to me, so I did. As my eyes met his, he took his half empty Gatorade bottle and hit me across the face hitting my mouth. After my eyes watered, and I registered what had happened, I screamed at him to get out of my car. At this time I was in shock, I’m not sure when his teammates had looked over, and what they had seen, if anything. They did nothing. I realized my bags were at his house because we had planned on going camping that weekend. I had made up my mind that I would get my bags and leave, I couldn’t go home. I would just have to go to a friend’s house. When I got to his house, my lip had of course gotten bigger. I went in to grab my bags, and tell his mom that I was going home. She asked what happened to my lip, and I hesitated. Should I tell her? Will she believe me? I literally thought to myself that maybe I was making this a bigger deal than what it should have been. It was his senior year, and he got injured, and might not be able to play again, so I shouldn’t have set him off like I did. So I told her that I had opened my car door and that it had hit my lip because I yanked it too hard. As I was walking out of the door, he was coming in. He immediately told me I was not leaving, and then it got extremely crazy after that. Screaming matches ensued, and all I was doing was sitting Indian style on the ground crying into my hands wondering how I got myself into a position like this. By this time, it was 11:30 PM. All my friends had other plans, and I didn’t want to bother them. I couldn’t show up on my door step and hide my lip from my parents. So I had no other choice but to stay there. Looking back, I could have went anywhere but after he got out of the shower and cooled off, it was like a switch had been turned off. He became him again; the person I told I love you to every single night. He apologized, and promised that it would never happen again. He wouldn’t ever lose control and take it out on me.

I’m here to say that it did happen, over and over again. There were two other instances where the physical abuse occurred. I consider myself one of the lucky ones. I was never punched, never burned, never choked, never stabbed, and never shot. The second time he hit me so hard on the back it knocked my breath out of me, because I was scratching his back, and accidentally scratched him too hard. The third time was because I was texting my guy friends, he grabbed my arm so hard it left a bruise; luckily it was in December so I wore long sleeve shirts where I wouldn’t have to make up a story. Sadly, the physical abuse was not the only abuse he put me through. I suffered more from his emotional abuse. Phone calls would end in me crying myself to sleep more nights than I ever could have imagined. He would insult me on a daily basis; I didn’t dress like he wanted me too, I was stupid, I wouldn’t ever amount to anything, I was a baby, I would never be able to be a child psychologist because how could I help someone else when I couldn’t help myself, I was lucky that he wanted me because no one else would ever want to be with me. Those are just some of the things he said to me. I heard them so many times that I eventually started to believe them myself. It got to the point where I wouldn’t look in the mirror anymore. I wouldn’t care what I wore or how I looked because I would always get accused of trying to impress someone or I would be accused of cheating on him. There were times he threw my phone, he pretended to be me texting my father and saying horrible things, he would threaten to kill me if I ever cheated on him. If I’m being honest with myself, I also suffered from bouts of sexual abuse. Let me make this clear, I NEVER told him no. Whatever he wanted to do, and when he wanted to do something I always listened because I was afraid of the repercussions I would suffer. I was young, and I loved him, and I was naive. All my friends were doing it, so why couldn’t I? In my head, I started to hate him. At a little over the year mark, I fell out of love. How could I love someone so much who all they did was hurt me? But, then his little reminders would always come into my head. I thought that I deserved what was going on. In my head, I convinced myself that no one would want to be with someone like me. I let someone beat me, I let someone get in my head, and treat me like he didn’t give a damn about me. But, somehow I blamed myself for the abuse. I started questioning my actions and how I could better them so that I could avoid it all together.

I STILL STAYED. I stayed because he convinced me that no one else wanted me. I stayed because I pushed away every single person who cared about me. I stayed because I thought that I could change him, I thought I could help him become the person that I knew he could be. I stayed because I was convinced that no one else would ever love me, that what was happening was normal and that’s how relationships worked. I stayed because where else was I going to go? I stayed because why did my family and friends deserve to comfort me after what I put them through. I stayed because I didn’t think anyone would believe me.

I thank God that I was able to get away. I believe that the physical abuse would have only escalated and that if he couldn’t have me, that no one else would. I believe that he could have put my life even more in danger. But, I’m here to tell my story. I had to seek counseling in order to process everything. My parents didn’t find out about the abuse until last November. To my baby brother, if you’re reading this, I am so very sorry that I never told you; but it wasn’t your job to protect me, and I knew that’s what you would want to do but you couldn’t. The only person who could have protected me was myself. To the friends who have remained by my side or who have came along after wards and listened to me, I love you more than words can say. To my family, I couldn’t ask for a better one to be so forgiving and understanding.

If there’s anything that I’ve taken away from this experience is that I’m a survivor. Just because I’ve been “damaged” and have scars doesn’t mean that I’m not beautiful and that I can’t be loved in the way that I deserve. Because every time I push someone away, HE WINS. I can not let him win, because he’s the one who’s lost. I’m the one who gained a future. I’m the one who can move on from this and learn from the experience. I will forever live with the fear, but I can control it. I’m in control. I’ve been afraid to write about it because words seem so pale in comparison to how I felt at this very instance. I realize now that I should have loved myself with all the love I gave to him. No one can tell what goes on in between the person you were and the person you become. No one can chart that blue and lonely section of hell. There are no maps of the change. I came out on the other side and I’m thankful for that because some don’t.

I love you all, forever.

You yourself, deserve your love and affection as much as anybody in the entire universe

C.S. Lewis once said, “In your life, you meet people. Some you never think about again. Some, you wonder what happened to them. There are some that you wonder if they ever think about you. And then, there are some you wish you never had to think about again. But you do.”

If you can’t think of at least one person for each example given, I truly think you’re lying to yourself. I can sit here and name off multiple people for each section that come to mind, but I won’t go that far just yet. As the first month of 2015 is coming to a close, I’m still trying to grasp the concept of loving myself fully. This has been an on-going battle since I could remember, probably since I was about a sophomore in high school, so right around seven years. There’s that typical saying that goes something like if you can’t love yourself, how do you expect others to love you? I can sit here and name off at least five reasons why I don’t love myself, but in retrospect it doesn’t make sense. I’ll tell you why; we don’t really see ourselves like others do. We only see our reflections in a mirror. We don’t watch ourselves sleeping in bed dreaming behind our closed eyelids, we don’t see ourselves reading a book with our eyes glowing and eager to turn the page. We don’t see the way our face brightens when we are looking at someone we deeply love and care about. So why is this still an issue in 2015? Why can’t we just love ourselves?

I’ll tell you why. Society is fucked up. Little girls see nothing but super models or Victoria Secret models, and aspire to look like them. They think it’s normal. Clothes are becoming skimpier and skimpier. Since when did attention become something that everyone is begging for? Since when did a perfect list of qualities for a future significant other become the sole basis on which we choose someone? “Oh sorry, I only date blondes.” “Sorry, you’re just a little bit to overweight for me.” This multitude of apps or dating websites, Tinder, Farmer’s Only, Black People Meet, Christian Mingle, etc. all ask for preferences of who you’re looking for or you rate them based solely on physical appearance . You’re not going off what they’ve been through or what has made them the person they are today. Let me tell you something, you are NOT, your bra size or the width of your waist. You aren’t defined by the amount of attention you’re getting, or how many calories you’re burning in a day. Who gives a shit? Who you are is the character that you have. Who you are is defined by the ambitions that keep you going. Who you are is made up of the personal goals that you set. And if someone tells you that you’re not good enough, walk away. Trust me, I know what your initial reaction will be, I’ve been there. To save you some trouble, don’t wallow in self-pity, don’t make a list of things you want to change about yourself. Don’t let whoever is telling you that you’re not good enough win. Because you ARE good enough, you have become this person you are today based on what has happened to you. Why let a stranger or someone who doesn’t deserve your time ruin that for you? The only person that knows everything about you is you. Believe in yourself. Love yourself, or it will control your life.

I’m on the right track-I have a great family, great friends, and a decent job. When I look in the mirror, I don’t cringe like I used too. Are there days that I want to give up? Yes. Are there days where I let others define how I feel? Yes. However, I’m choosing to make 2015 the year that I become a better version of myself, because I deserve this. For those of you reading, you deserve to start new and fresh. Change is good, change is inevitable. And for all of you who are choosing to join me in my journey, I’m asking that you hold me accountable for that, just like I will hold you accountable. Let’s do this.