A little over 20 years ago, I was gliding through life. I was doing the best I could. I had a job that
I loved. I was living on my own in my own apartment. I was rebuilding interpersonal
relationships especially my relationship with my parents. I was surviving and wanted more.
I met a guy who we had a lot in common and knew many of the same people through sports. His
father was a coach which made me feel a deeper connection since my father also had coached for
many years. We shared a love for football and other sports. Also, this man was a pee-wee (little
league) football coach for kids 6-8 years old. I mean come on; he seemed like my perfect match.
How can a pee-wee football coach be a monster?!?
Our relationship did not start off with abuse or any signs. There was no name calling, putting me
down, and he definitely did not come right out and say I’m a monster. No instead he played on
my weaknesses and insecurities, slowly manipulating me and the disrespect started slowly.
During this time in my life, I had many insecurities and did not have much confidence in myself.
I was still carrying so much shame and guilt around in silence.
You see he appeared to have let me in sharing some of his own personal struggles growing up
and the tough expectations his parents put on him where he never thought he was enough. I so
related to this, and I thought I would be able to show him how wonderful he was. It didn’t take
long before we became inseparable. If I wasn’t at work, we were together. I started spending a lot
of time with his family, not paying attention that I was isolating myself because we stopped
spending time with my family, and I never made time for my friends.
I don’t remember when it all changed but looking back, I can see it wasn’t drastic or all of
sudden, the change was slowly happening all along. I remember his behavior changing towards
me as he was drinking more and then one day at his house I found cocaine in his bathroom. Let
me preface by saying I was never a big drinker and never experimented with drugs. I asked him
about the cocaine, and he became outraged. He accused me of going through his stuff and I did
not. The cocaine was out in the open on the shelf above the toilet wrapped up in dollar bills. I
remember walking away that night knowing I wanted no part of this; the disrespect, the drinking,
the drugs, this other person that I did not like, but I convinced myself I could help him, and I
needed him, so I compromised my own values and beliefs to stay with him. This is also why for
years I carried the blame and felt I deserved what I experienced.
I was on an up and down roller coaster. The relationship was getting worse, and I remember
trying to separate myself by ghosting him and not answering my phone whenever he called, also
not showing up to events where I knew he would be. But as I tried to distance myself, he would
show up at my apartment every day. As the intensity between us grew; I told him I couldn’t do
this, and we were better off going our own ways. You can imagine how well that went over. He
wouldn’t take no for an answer, and I took that as him fighting for me. At this time there was still
no physical actions towards me it was all verbal and emotional. It was like being with Jekyll andHyde because I never knew what version of him, I would see and/or if he was going to be under
the influence. He was not a good fun drunk or nice at all when he was high.
During this time, I ended up meeting another man who I knew was the love of my life, but I was
so beat down emotionally that I was convinced he was too good for me, and I didn’t deserve him.
I also found myself saying he was just like the other man and that he would eventually let me
down, so I was safer with what I know.
I kept going back to what I knew and what I thought I deserved. I justified it by telling myself
this is the best my life is going to get, at least I have someone, and I deserve it. It gradually
became worse; I didn’t pay attention to the signs or maybe I did but I kept making excuses or
justifying it.
As things became worse, I attempted to leave and break things off. After several attempts to end
the relationship. We were arguing constantly, I was suffocating, he stopped working and I was
giving him money, I was suffocating with being controlled but I thought this was normal that I
just needed space. Each argument we had he would say things like he couldn’t live without me,
that if I ever left, he wouldn’t survive, and he would take his own life.
After a heated argument one evening where he showed up at my apartment unannounced
refusing to leave and threatening that he couldn’t and wouldn’t live without me… I don’t
remember what I said that actually made him leave but I remember him driving off recklessly.
Later that same evening, he called me, and I know it sounds crazy, but I answered his call. He
was shouting at me, calling me all types of names, and I knew this had to be the end of us. When
I told him that’s it I had enough, lose my number and do not come back to my apartment – he
shot a gun off in my ear and let his phone drop where I can still hear the silence on the other end
of the phone.
After him profusely apologizing, and gifts were showing up at my apartment. Guess what?! I
took him back! This is what we do and it’s all part of their process to break us down to where we
think they are the only ones we need in our lives or the only ones that would understand. It
wasn’t long after this incident that we decided to move in together.
We were in our 1st apartment together for a few months in. He was working full time and seemed
to be doing better. Until it wasn’t better. He would talk on the phone with friends about the
women at his job, being so disrespectful towards me, comparing me to other people and putting
me down. One night I went out with friends after work and when I came home, all my
belongings were on the front lawn, and we fought. I really thought the people upstairs from us
would have called the police, but no one came. This was the first time he hit me, but I hit him
first. So, I justified his hitting me as a mistake.
Luckily, I was able to move back into my own apartment, the same one I was living in
previously. He kept coming around and one evening I had a friend over in which things
escalated where I had to call the cops, and he was arrested.

They let him go and a few weeks later we were looking at apartments all over again. We moved
into an apartment which was further away from family and friends. Of course, in the beginning
everything was great, and he convinced me that he was done with the drugs, he was done
drinking, and we were doing great. I felt like it was all worth it and I did the right thing each time
by going back to him. That only lasted so long. Few weeks into our new living arrangements, he
started using my car and dropping me off at work saying he would be back to pick me up when I
got off, but he never came. Many nights I was stuck and ended up staying at my job. I remember
feeling so low and that there was no way out and at this time we were fighting all the time and
now each time it was physical. He learned never to hit me in the face, but body shots were a
daily along with the choke holds. One evening specifically, I remember him strangling me
having both his hands around my neck where I truly believed I was going to die that night. I did
not, thank God because someone called the cops, and they were knocking on the door. When
they asked me if I was ok, I lied and said I was fine that we just had an argument. I can still see
the look in his eyes almost threatening me. I had no dignity or respect left for myself.
I was not taking care of myself and because I was being financially exploited, I let my bills lapse
especially my car insurance where I had to take my car off the road. He never helped me just
made the situation worse and blamed me for it all. He ended up borrowing his mother’s car but
never helped me, would not take me to work. One day we went to a cookout at his family’s
house. On our way back home, I asked him something in the car and he became a vicious animal.
He started hitting me, pulling my hair, trying to choke me with the seatbelt, while cursing,
calling me every name you can imagine. He switched lanes to the right-hand lane, and I thought
he was going to pull over, but he slowed down enough to lean over me, undo my seatbelt
opening the car door and pushed me out. I laid on the side of the road crying, I was able to get up
having scrapes and bruising but not badly hurt, thankfully. I sat there for a few minutes and
started walking. What felt like hours of walking he came back with flowers telling me to get in
the car. Saying the line we hear in movies. You shouldn’t have made me so mad – you do not get
to ask me questions.
I knew something had to give or my luck of surviving was going to run out. I slowly started
trying to figure out a safe way for me to leave. A few days later, I came home from work to find
my car that was not registered, no insurance, no license plates, gone. I immediately called him,
he did not answer. I left several messages, and started to get worried, thinking the worst because
in my mind something bad had to have happened for him to take my keys out of my draw and
drive a car that is not registered or insured. 24 hours went by, and he finally returned like nothing
had happened. When I asked him where he was and what happened? He lost his mind. He
became someone more vicious and violent than I have ever seen or experienced. The pulling of
hair, hitting, and he strangled me where I couldn’t breathe. He stopped strangling me but grabbed
me stating we were going for a ride. He was dragging me outside towards the car. I was
screaming for someone to come help me and for someone to call 911. He kept trying to cover my
mouth and hitting me repeatedly. As we approached the car, the sound of sirens gave me hopethat I was going to survive. As the sound was getting louder it was evident they were coming, he
threw my keys somewhere in the neighbor’s yard and took off on foot. Ironically, one of the
officers that arrived was a childhood friend of mine who was incredibly helpful in helping me
find the courage to leave. I immediately created a safety plan to leave.
The next day while at work, a coworker and friend had called asking me to post a flyer about his
1-bedroom apartment for rent. God works in mysterious ways and timing is everything! I
hesitated to respond, and my friend asked unless you want it. My nonresponse was all he needed.
He said say no more, I’m on my way now to drop off the keys, pay me when you can, we can
work it all out, start moving your stuff in immediately and let me know if you need help.
I had planned it all out and thought I thought of everything from planning on only taking what I
needed, loading a truck while he was at work giving myself plenty of time. I was wrong. As I
started loading the truck to leave, my worst nightmare happened. He showed up. Needless to say,
I survived but it was not without a hospital stay and many bruises that eventually faded but the
psychological and emotional scars last forever.
It didn’t end there, after I was able to get my belongings and safely move into my new
apartment. The stalking started, death threats came, and he called my job impersonating a family
member of an individual I supported making allegations of me abusing the individuals and
stealing from the agency I was working for. After months of being told by officers I did not have
enough proof of physical harm I was finally awarded an order of protection.
The order of protection did not stop him, nor did it help me feel safe but because he violated it
repeatedly, and he had other charges on his record that caught up to him; I was notified that he
was arrested.
It took me years to move on and heal, there are still parts of me healing. I didn’t do it alone. I had
a community of support that I am forever grateful for and because of them I am able to share my
story.
I share my story for the simple fact of hoping maybe my story can help someone else or at least
give them hope that they are not alone and there are ways out.