Let's Start from the Beginning

My story is an all-too-familiar one. There's really nothing new about it, I'm sure you've heard it from your best friend from high school, your third cousin's aunt, or even your own sister. But if there's anyone out there who can draw strength from my own struggle, then it's worth telling a thousand times again.

I was a fresh graduate about to debut into the College scene. I met The Abuser (hereafter referred to as TA) during Welcome Week, the week before classes even began. We had agreed to meet up before chapel so he, the experienced senior, could give me, the newbie, the lay of the land. Needless to say a courtship followed, and I dated him for my entire college career (three years, I graduated early).

My parents couldn't stand him. My friends weren't really fans. But I was in love, oh so in love. He was my first serious boyfriend, and so mature and experienced. Things weren't always bunnies and butterflies by any means, but I'm a naturally optimistic person with a larger-than-normal supply of self-confidence, so I could dismiss a lot of mistreatment by making excuses to myself. Oh you don't like the way these jeans fit on me? Well I'm a fan and I dress for myself. You're not comfortable with me talking to boys in class? Well, that's cool I don't need them anyway. I missed a lot of cues that others picked up on, but even then there wasn't anything really concrete about the situation. It was more that the people outside the relationship had an uneasy feeling in their gut, like something wasn't right but you couldn't really pinpoint it.

I remember a lot about how I dealt in those days. I was by no means prepared for any of this. Being so inexperienced with relationships I blindly accepted the majority of the behavior as normal. I adapted myself, changed my personality, and began dulling inside myself. I didn't have the energy or the spark of independence that was so bright before I met him. I would literally take things day by day, thinking "If I can just get through this week, we may be okay." I even remember making a little graph one month in my Chinese notes, each day had a little face - sad, happy, or mean - depending on the day we'd had. There were very few happies, to my chagrin. Most were sad, and there were a fair share of mean faces in there for days he would yell at me for reasons I would normally dismiss as trifles.

But I pressed on. And on the whole I was content. We had very good times in there too, and I was completely infatuated with the man. Even after graduating I moved to his city when we became engaged. I was ready to start a life with him. I told myself that I could deal with this treatment for the rest of my life and be okay. I would survive.

But it was after we exchanged vows that things changed forever...

- The Healing Heart