My Survivor Story

****This story includes mention of abuse, sexual coercion, stalking, dating violence, alcohol use, and manipulation. Please be advised of this while reading and take care of yourself. Resources can be found at this link.

This is a story I never have told from start to finish completely, but I think it is time to put it in writing. It is painful and the memories still ache inside of me. The details and specifics are fuzzy, something the brain does when experiencing trauma. It all feels like a dream sometimes, but everything written here is my truth and my honest memory. It is my story. It is mine to tell. It is the story of my first ever relationship, which was also a traumatic, abusive one that has formed me into the person I am today.

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 As a teen girl, I was focused. I was a straight-A student, a three-sport athlete, and involved in several extracurricular activities. The one piece that felt missing for me through my teen years was sex and intimacy. I felt unwanted and undesirable when it came to boys. I constantly asked myself why no one was interested and why no one wanted to date me. What was it about me? When I went to college, I had a goal: I wanted to be desired. I wanted to be everything I was not when I was in high school. I wanted to experience things that 18-year-old girls are supposed to experience when they are a freshman in college.

 Before moving in I was chatting with people online that were going to the same school and there was one boy I talked to consistently. He was intriguing and kind and seemed so interested in me. The day I moved in I met him, and it seemed from there we were inseparable. We hung out every day, would drive off campus together, and stayed up all night just talking. I began to nearly live in his room and spend all my free time with him. He told me he loved me about two weeks into our relationship, and I did not reply with the same sentiment right away, but said I love you only a short time after. I couldn’t help but think how lucky I was to have fallen in love as a freshman in college with a man who was so in love with me. We talked about our families, our future wedding, our future children, and all our hopes and dreams for ourselves and one another.

As our relationship progressed over several months, we became even more attached to one another. Over time I also started to notice more of his actions and behaviors that made me uncomfortable. I was a biology major and that meant a lot of time doing homework, reading, labs, and studying. There were moments where he would make me feel guilty for studying so much and convince me to spend more time with him. When we were intimate, he would get annoyed at me when I didn’t wear makeup or wore certain clothes. He would be upset if I painted my nails a darker color, as he preferred them lighter. He would sometimes coerce me into doing things I didn’t want to do, and those specific details will not be included. He made comments about my body and mentioned that he liked me thinner. There were many red flags that are so clear now, but at the time I didn’t know, I thought that was what love was.

One Saturday night he was drinking profusely, and I was studying for a huge test I had on Monday. He drank a lot and sometimes would act in ways that made me feel afraid. I was asleep and he started banging on my dorm room door. My roommate let him in, and he shook me awake to tell me he had cheated on me, and he kissed someone else. I ended it right there and told him to get out. What I didn’t know is that this was only the start of everything and not even close to the end.

The next day he came back to my door wanting to talk and I refused. I was hurt and devastated, but I knew my worth. I went to the science building to study and try to get my mind off the situation. He sent me message after message after message trying to explain himself, but I told him to please let me alone. And then, he showed up in the building, begging for forgiveness, and I asked him to leave me alone and let me study. He stayed for hours and even followed me into the women’s rest room in the building as I did anything I could to escape. He tried to touch my leg and hold my hand, and I kicked and screamed and threatened to call campus police. Finally, when my tutor arrived, he left.

The next day I was in the dining hall and I was with my friends on the track team. He stood near my table and just stared at me. My friends encouraged me to leave and walked me back to my dorm. When I got inside and went onto my floor, he was there, and I turned around and he started chasing after me. I hid in the bathroom in the basement of that building and had a panic attack until someone came to find me. That night I stayed with friends at an off-campus house, and they walked me back to my dorm and all the way to my room. I am endlessly thankful for them to this day for looking out for me.  

Things started to seem quiet, a text here or there, but I felt more at peace. The peace lasted until I came back to my room from being out one night and saw a note slip under my door. It was an apology from him. I waited in my room for some time until I needed to go to the bathroom that was across the hall. I looked through the peep hole and thought I was safe, but as soon as I opened my door he appeared. I ran into the bathroom to do what I needed to do. When I came out of the bathroom, he was in front of my door and tried to block me from getting in my room. When I finally got inside and locked the door, he continued to bang on my door shouting at me, “why do you hate me? Why do you hate me?” I had to call an RA to make sure he would leave. The next day I was in the dining hall, and he found me there. He chased me around the dining hall until I was able to leave, hysterically crying and inconsolable. This was when the school administration called me and put a no-contact order in place. The 9 month long story I no longer wanted to be a part of was finally over.

I have not talked to him or heard from him since then, but there have been different instances where I know he was talking about me or was thinking of me. He would follow me and then quickly unfollow me on Instagram, or I would hear that he was telling other people I was toxic and a terrible person. Eventually he transferred, but I stayed. Graduating college and leaving the place where this happened allowed me to breathe the deepest sigh of relief I ever will in my life. It was hard to pass all the places and buildings that were marked not by positive memories of college, but my what felt like nightmares.

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I am doing really well now. I am in a wonderful relationship with someone who treats me wonderfully. But, I would be lying if I said this experience doesn’t follow me in everything I do. I process it with a therapist and many coping mechanisms and encourage you to do the same. This experience has also propelled me to help others who have experienced or are currently experiencing something similar. There is hope for all of us.

I wrote this all down for me and for others. For me, I don’t want to forget. It is painful and traumatic, but it happened, and it is a piece of me. I can’t go back and change it or rewrite what happened to me. I continue to come to terms with it every day and still process these events. It also helps me forgive and release. I have no room in my heart for hatred towards him or the others involved. I also practice love and appreciation for all of those that helped me and supported me when I was at my lowest. At this time in my life, it you simply asked me “how are you doing?” I am endlessly grateful for you.

I write this for others because there are a lot of lessons to be learned. Firstly, there were major red flags I didn’t see that are important to know about for others in relationships that could become abusive. It took me months after this situation to even realize that what I experienced was dating abuse of multiple types. This information should have been taught to me before and should be taught to everyone. Relationship education is essential so people can see these signs and make informed decisions about their relationships.

I also want others to see there is no shame in having a story like this. A lot of us do unfortunately. According to The National Domestic Violence Hotline, “Over 1 in 3 women (35.6%) and 1 in 4 men (28.5%) in the US have experienced rape, physical violence, and/or stalking by an intimate partner in their lifetime.” The more we tell our story and share our experiences, the more we can teach others and stand together, united.

I hope this inspires you to leave that relationship, help a friend who is trying to leave, or continue to tell your story unapologetically and without shame. I am standing with you and I am so proud of you.