I remember trying to walk out of the bedroom of my boyfriends parents home. The little lies he spewed started building up and I had a breaking moment. As quickly as I began to express my concerns about the lies, almost instantaneously we began to argue. I was about to put an end to the lies, or so I thought. Quickly, I stood up and imagined my self leaving that room, proceeding to the door. While reaching for the door knob I became abruptly paralyzed by the crashing sound next to me.
As I was walking out I looked back to see him picking up the remote to the T.V. and forcefully throw it. His face looked like a strangers and I hardly recognized the person sitting right in front of me. Yes, sitting, he never even got up, just propelled all of his anger at me while sitting back carelessly. It felt as if he was trying to knock me out cold. Only the remote hit right next to me and smashed apart into pieces.
Never, had I seen him quite like this. I asked very stunned, “What are you doing?” Wanting to run, but I stayed. I did not know it, but that moment was the beginning of an (almost) never ending cycle. He did not want me to leave that room and some how (in his mind) the violence kept me there asking questions, thus allowing the manipulation to begin.
Slowly, painfully I was trapped. I was seventeen years old and he was the first person that I ever loved. Never could I expect how bad things would get moving forward and I truly never thought that I was going to be a survivor of domestic violence. Taking full acceptance that I could have changed my story, I could have kept walking out that door and never looked back.
BUT, I forgive myself.