Saturday, April 19, 2014

The Scars that we bare...

Everyone has scars. Everyone. Emotional scars. Physical scars. Some have a harder time dealing with them than others. Some people are better at hiding them then others. For me, there are some scars that I have carried that are evident and some that are hidden. And for this moment, I am willing to let the world see those scars I have kept private.

You see, the scars I carry are those of a once battered person.You wouldn't know that from looking at me. That I was this once beaten down shell of a person. Broken. 

Like most children out there, I was one that was picked on quite a lot. I had bucked teeth, metal in my mouth and weird hair. Not much was put on self esteem or self confidence at this age. I always wanted to be part of something. Tried to please everyone, even when it backfired. Little did I know that how I was treated and how I saw myself would dictate who I was when I reached young adulthood.

 Even in my teens, I still had that mentality of wanting to just fit in. Sure I went through the normal teenage strife of boyfriends, parent issues and trying to do well in school. I tried, but emotionally I was beat down. It was then when I was 19, I met him. The one that would change my existence on this earth.   

He was older and in college. And boy did I fall hard for this man. It was the last year of high school. I pretty much threw away my grade 12th year for him. And when you are at this age, any attention that is thrown at you, you will grasp at like a drug. At the time, life at home wasn't the best, so he was my out. As soon as I got my high school diploma, I had kissed my hometown goodbye and left with the love of my life to the big city. For me, at this point life was good. 

All relationships have their honeymoon phase. You are blind to the faults of your partner, I overlooked certain behaviors as I thought they were cute.  I enrolled in College and started working part time at a coffee shop. I was making friends and learning stuff that interested me. I was blind to the gradual controlling nature of the man I loved. I didn't see the possessiveness and the jealously. He was jealous of the time I spent at school and work. As it was time I wasn't with him. I would try to talk to him and reassure him that he was the most important thing to me. Sometimes that would work and sometimes it wouldn't.

 I graduated with honors. The night of my graduation, he couldn't bring himself to be happy for me. The night that was supposed to be mine, turned into a night that was all about him. This was the first time that it had gotten physical. I had never been hit in my life. Ever. Sadly this was just the beginning. 

It didn't stop. The emotional abuse beat me down to the point where it was ok in my mind that physical abuse was all part of what love should be. I never had to cover my bruises with makeup as they were all under my clothes. I would plaster a smile on my face and pretend I was a happy person, when inside I was this broken down person. 

I spent 2 and half years living like this. I can't tell you what gave me the courage to get out of this relationship. Maybe it was my own will power or maybe it was those who finally saw the pain in my eyes. What ever it was, I am thankful it. 

It has been 15 years since. 15 years that I have struggled with those scars. 15 years of various therapy. 15 years of loved ones picking up the pieces and trying to put me back together again. It wasn't until I met my husband, who to his own credit, taught me that I am worth something. 

I write this, as I hope that my story will help those out there that who are broken and beaten down. Domestic abuse isn't just physical. Emotional abuse is just as harmful to a person as it will break you down to the point where the physical abuse will seem ok. 

Please if you think you are in a abusive situation, seek help. You are not alone. You are worth it. You are somebody that counts and deserves a life of happiness and love.