Me:

At the age of 8 years old my mom received a 15 year prison sentence in maximum security. I was mostly left to my own defense after I turned 12. People stopped paying attention to me and I even had times where I didn’t eat because they forgot about me. I became overweight because I was constantly binging when I had food available. It’s not that I didn’t have a dad but he wasn’t around and I didn’t have a proper support system. I fell through the cracks. 

 When I turned 16 I bought my own car and I had zero limitations. I had no curfew and came home whenever I wanted. I spent time doing whatever because I didn’t know any better. At 16 one month after my birthday my sisters ex boyfriend took advantage of me. I filed a police report and spent the next year with the DA. I had only ever had two kisses in my lifetime up until this point. 

I still dropped the case. Why? Because it is incredibly painful to recount that story to someone who questions your every move 3-4 times a week. I got therapy. I tried to forget. Had it been one month earlier he would’ve received a sentence for pedophilia. He ended up saved by my grace as the police encouraged me to say I was 15 and I didn’t want to lie to them or any judge. 

He ran away back to another state when he heard he had a case and became addicted to heroin. No one had heard from him since.

For years I was chasing a love I hadn’t received with family and had really only seen on TV. I spent another year in a long distance relationship with a recovered (I say recovered because he was at the time.) addict who ended up relapsing when I FLEW to upstate to visit him. Again, I was young and did dumb thing. That doesn’t make it my fault but I had poor understandings of human nature. I the next two weeks with him. In the second week he relapsed and did heroin the whole week. He even kidnapped me to take me to his dealers house when he needed his parents car. He used that I was with him as an excuse he wouldn’t do anything bad and then he drove me to “the mall” except he got off the freeway and took me down a dirt path that i had no idea where we were. He drove in silence with me in the passenger seat as I screamed and begged him to tell me where we were going and then eventually we stopped the car after I screamed where were we and he got out at someone’s house. I cried so loudly he said he felt like a piece of shit and came back out. He told me we’d go to the mall but I better not tell anyone what happened because he was leaving to get high after. I didn’t leave because I didn’t know how to. I had been constantly beaten down as a child for things I didn’t mean to do, betrayed or yelled at because I was small and had no mom to show me what was wrong and right. I was used to being a mouse. Then came the second to last day I stayed in NY. He smacked me because I wanted to take his keys from him. He was a danger to others. Ultimately, he pinned me down and I looked around the room and envisioned my death. All I could think of was survival. So I started to train Jiu Jitsu and learned the day I got back on the airplane. That was five years ago now. 

So what? Where did I go wrong? Where was I not at fault? The truth was I was young and dumb. 

I stayed single for the next two years until I met my ex. He dated me for a few years with no issues so it made it really hard to leave him when he spun out of control after a death in the family. I wanted to be by his side and support him. He started to drink, do Xanax, cheat, and become a complete maniac coke addict. He drugged me with Xanax and had sex with me because he thought it was okay. He forced me to drink a drink he had prepared for me and then waited until I was good and ready for him. He was my wake up call. There was something I was doing wrong, and no it wasn’t me as a person in regards to being abused. Abusers abuse. But how did I need to spend my time to not be in these situations. When I broke up with him he had cheated on me 8 times. He later admitted this. I new about twice. He spent weeks stalking me, I found him in my house waiting for me after I broke it off with him. He jumped in front of my car, he did jiu jitsu too so he used a judo throw on me to keep me down. I was scared of him. Not like I was when I was 16 and sexually assaulted. I mean I was really fucking scared. I thought the only way I was going to escape him would be to off myself. Three years ago I sat in my room with a pill bottle and a need to escape. I was going to take my own life for the sake of getting away from him. I had no other ideas. I didn’t know how else to do it. I looked at my dog in the room with me and I thought who would take care of him when I was gone? I was scared and I had no one. I cried for hours. I left my home and didn’t come home until I felt like I wouldn’t do it. I was drowning. 

It’s been three years since. I didn’t want to date people, I didn’t want to do anything but me. I chose terrible men because I had low self esteem and I acknowledge that now. I post as aggressively or non aggressively as I want because I don’t care what anyone else thinks. Sometimes I feel like talking about it. Sometimes I want to take it down and archive it. I never want anyone to experience what I have or feel how I did. 

Why didn’t I report him? I reported someone before and I got years of pain and hurt. I spent time with the DA and I knew it wasn’t worth the cost to my brain. I did tell someone what he did, I told many people what he was doing. I don’t blame anyone, but I realize now I needed a lot more support. In the past couple years I’ve been in therapy I’ve been building up those systems so if I feel how I did that day I will always have someone to call. 

Why am I hell bent on looking like a thot on Instagram? Because I disagree with anyone who doesn’t believe me simply because I post a lot of my ass.