Something a little more personal.

I’m not really the type of person to delve into my issues from my past.
I really really REALLY hate it. Which frustrates my boyfriend but he’s learning to understand.
I guess I never really had a voice as strong as this before so I always put my feelings aside to help others when I have been able too…I’m not trying to portray myself as a saint but I really make it known to my friends that if they need my help in any way, shape or form, I’m the gal for them.

I guess my “story” starts seven years ago.
I had just come out of this icky emo stereotype and I was finally trying to find my feet again.
I was starting to get along with my mum after years of arguments and treatment she really didn’t deserve. 
I was happy, I was bubbly…a little naive but I was starting to realise I was a functioning human in this society and I was really just trying to find my place in the world. 
I met my now ex boyfriend at my Dad’s house, he was a carpenter and it really was love at first sight, he was beautiful and I was transfixed on his wavy brown hair, blue eyes and tanned skin. I never would have thought a guy like that would be interested in a little girl like me, he was older, he was new and he was exciting. 
He eventually asked me to my year 10 formal after my neighbour decided to play cupid and I was ecstatic, my mum was so happy to see me happy and Dad was apprehensive but what father wouldn’t be?
We went to the formal, I got a dress for the first time in forever and my mum paid for me to get my make up done, I was finally the girl she had always wanted and I have to admit it was nice to be all dolled up with a nice young guy to escort me to my first formal. 

Our relationship was (and this sounds lame) magic.
I was besotted with this guy, he was everything I wanted and I never wanted us to be apart.
In my eyes I had found the guy I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
And it seemed he felt the same.

About a year into the relationship he started to change.
He became angry all the time, he was nasty and would say hurtful things.
He would call me names.
Slut. Bitch. Whore.
Just to name a few.
I was obviously hurt, the guy that I had fallen in love with had begun to turn into someone I didn’t know anymore. I was trying to reach out to someone who didn’t want me anymore, who was loosing a grip on his life and he began to fall.
Fast.
He started smoking dope again, something he had once quit for me.
He was drinking more and  was spending more time without me than with me.
I was blind to this at first, because I didn’t want to see or believe that he was becoming someone else, in my head he was still that cute carpenter that caught my eye all those months ago.

It eventually got worse and the name calling started to get worse.
He would tell me that he hated me and that he didn’t want anything to do with me. That I could pack my things and get out of his life because he would be happier without me.
I can’t even begin to tell you how much it hurt and for how long I cried.
But I kept going back.
He would call and tell me that he loved me, that he was sorry, that he would NEVER call me any names again.
And me being the trusting person that I was, I believed him.
My mum could see the pain he was putting me through, my friends did, everyone saw it but me, because I chose not too.
I began to loose my friends.
My mum banned him from our house and said she wanted nothing to do with him and our relationship became strained.
I began to drift away from all the people I loved for someone who I thought loved me more.

Soon the violence began and he started to physically abuse me.
I don’t really want to go into it because it still hurts to think about.
The mental abuse kept happening too and he would call me wobbly gut because I was a little chubby.
I began to really doubt myself and would constantly tell myself that what he was saying was true, that I really was all those things. I really didn’t like myself at this time and I changed from that happy sixteen year old to the recluse nineteen year old.
People warned me, I didn’t want to hear it.
They told me he was hurting me. I didn’t believe it.
He told me that no one would ever love me than him. I felt like it was the truth.

Finally Nearly two and a half years of doubt, of pain, of tears and abuse I was free.
I was always too scared to break up with him in fear of what he told me. That no one would ever love me, that I was ugly and that I was a bitch, he ended it.
He told me he didn’t love me like he used too and that he couldn’t stay in a relationship like that.
Initially I was devastated, which I used to look back at think that I was foolish.
Now I understand that I was devastated for all the years that I lost, the confidence that never came back and the pain it had not only caused to me but the people who loved me.

Now, after three years.
After a year of therapy.
After meeting my soulmate.
I can speak talk about it with this new voice I have got.
I’m not looking for sympathy nor do I want it. I didn’t write about my story to get people to feel sorry for me, I don’t feel sorry for me, so neither should anyone else. I wrote about it for those girls out there, or boys, who are going through abuse to know that they are not alone because I know it feels like you are. I’ve gone through the lowest of lows and the highest highs, because abuse is a vicious circle because it sucks in its victims and refuses to let them get off the ride.
I am finally, at the age of 23, the person who I once was. I learnt to trust again and to let people in. I had to understand that people came and went, not everyone was going to be a ball of sunshine and they might be nasty but that was okay. As long as I didnt subject myself to people’s bull shit, I was going to be just fine.
Now I’m sitting next to my current boyfriend, he’s playing a guitar to the song I’m listening too. He tells me he loves me every day, he tells me I’m beautiful, he leaves me notes in the middle of the night so I have something nice to wake up too. He looks after me when I am sick and he tells me his deepest darkest thoughts and I can tell him mine too. H treats me with respect and lets me be me.
He adores me and I adore him.

So please, if you are EVER feeling like you are worthless because of someone else, do not stay. NO ONE has the right to tell you how you should think, especially about yourself and who you are. NEVER let ANYONE doubt you. Because who you are is beautiful ;)

Have a wonderful day peoples, I might delete this because I feel so weird being so super serious, so not like me, guess I’m feeling a bit confident


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s