After reading all the other stories of women being physically and emotionally abused, I realized I was just the same as them. However, I had to get out of the situation and examine it from the outside to really realize this. When I met Jerry, at first everything was great. I thought he was a great guy with just a tad of macho man. I thought it was kind of cute that he bossed me around a little. The abuse didn’t start until about two months into the relationship. He began to tell me what to wear and what not to wear. He said I should not wear skirts because he thinks it’s “slutty” to show anyone my legs. I wanted to be respectful to him so I began to follow all of his rules. I thought his jealousy was him just loving me a lot. He would talk about women and say that most of them are whores. Then little by little the abuse began in full swing. I found myself constantly trying to convince him I was not a whore. He would accuse me of all kinds of things. I was so in love I couldn’t even think of cheating so it confused me that he had so many accusations.
One night we went to a club and had a wonderful time. We had a little bit to drink and danced. Then in the parking lot on the way to the car he started an argument with me over something stupid like saying I was looking at a guy (which I wasn’t). Before I knew it, he pushed me down on the pavement. I lay flat on my back in complete shock and confusion. I was normally a very strong minded woman so I got up and punched him in the face. I quickly learned that it was a mistake to do that. You would think we would be even by then. He pushed me; I punched him, but no …He then began to punch me all over my face. I remember the pain when his fist landed directly on my nose. Then I tasted blood. He pulled my hair and was yanking my neck around like a ragdoll, the whole time spewing out every name in the book. Then we went home. At the time I was in such shock and felt like it was a bad dream.
The next day, my entire body was sore and bruised all over. He apologized left and right saying he was so sorry and that I shouldn’t have punched him. I was twenty-five at the time and had never been abused by a man. My dad used to hit my mom though so I grew up witnessing that. My dad changed when he got older and calmed down after my mom divorced him, so I thought Jerry might change also. So I stayed with him (silly me). There is not enough space to write all of the things he has done to me and how many more times after that he hit me. I ended up staying with him for a year and a half. Just a few of the traumatic things I went through includes that I became pregnant by him. I was very relieved because I thought he wouldn’t hit me anymore out of respect for the baby in my belly. I was wrong.
One night when I was about three weeks pregnant, he decided to have another one of his daily temper tantrums over something very petty. His tantrums were for the smallest of reasons. To make a long story short, he began yelling at me and backing me into a corner and punching me all over my face and head. I kept yelling, “Please stop. I’m pregnant,” but that did no good. He said “I’m not punching you in the stomach bitch, I’m punching your head.” That was in the evening when this event happened and by the time the sun came up after hyperventilating and crying, I began to bleed. I drove myself to the hospital. They informed me I was miscarrying. My cell phone rang while I was lying in the hospital bed and it was him telling me I better not go and sleep with another man and that I’m a bitch and slut. He basically beat the baby out of me and went on to say I deserved it because I’m not good enough to have his baby.
Like I said, there are just so many different stories that I can remember of him hitting me, just not enough space. I’ve been bit in the head twice (lots of blood), hit in the back of my head with a gun, pushed into a bucket which cut my leg open, beat up on my twenty-sixth birthday for no reason, punched, slapped, and kicked. He grabbed the wheel while I was trying to drive on the highway, threw a speaker through my windshield while I was trying to drive away, bit my back, and the list goes on and on and on. The verbal abuse was constant. I was called ugly, stupid, slut, blah, blah, blah.
My story, however, ends quite different than any that I’ve read though. Usually the woman leaves and escapes the relationship. One morning not too long ago, we woke up and he said he had a dream that he killed me and his friend’s mother was trying to hide him so the police wouldn’t arrest him. He told his parents (who knew a little about what had happened), and they helped convince him to kick me out of the house immediately. I cried and pleaded that I would be good and try not to make him angry so no more violence would happen. The thought of being single again bothered me so much. I wanted Jerry to change and I believed there was a chance he could. He had taken a few anger management classes the week before.
Unfortunately, he hit me a few days after the classes. So that wasn’t enough for us to believe in. He called an airport and got me a plane ticket for the next day. The airport shuttle guy knocked on the door to get me and I was crying and begging him not to kick me out of my house. He kept saying “You’ll thank me later.” Well, he was right. I got on the plane and went to live with my brother, my two baby nephews, and his wife. It’s only been a week that I’ve been here and for the first couple of days I struggled a lot. I left my whole life back in Florida along with all of my material possessions (whatever was left of them, because he broke everything I had). It is time for me to start over now. I think now that his dream of killing me was a sign from god trying to save my life. Now I will just take it day by day and try to rebuild myself back into a strong woman again. I hope this story helps any woman who is abused to get out fast! It hurts at first but it gets easier once you realize you are safe and out of harm’s way.