18-year-old Lea.
Right now you’re huddled in a corner of your boyfriend’s unfinished basement, crouched on the cold cement floor, trying to make yourself as small as possible while keeping your breath silent. You’re doing this because he’s somewhere outside this room, stalking you, the hilt of a machete clutched between his two hands.
Of course, you’d known what a machete was but you’d never seen one before in person. Its blade is so long and wide, its uneven edge spotted with rust and corrosion. He was showing it to you—that was innocent enough wasn’t it?—but then a maniacal gleam danced in his eyes and his mouth twisted in a sinister grin and he swung it at you. And you ran.
Your heart is slamming in your chest as you listen to the creaks in the ceiling above you or the sound of nearby closet doors as he opens then shuts them, searching for you. All the while he’s laughing, calling your name in that sing-songy voice, instructing you to give up, give in, and reveal your hiding place.
You tell yourself this is a joke. He’s laughing so it must be, right? This is just one of his sick and twisted games, like so many before it, and he doesn’t actually mean to maim or kill you. You told yourself the same thing just the other day when he took you on a hike at a nearby park. The hiking trail was beautiful until you came to the end, a scenic overlook high above a ravine complete with a sheer one-hundred-foot drop. As you leaned forward, ever so slightly to peak over the cliff to the jagged, rock-littered ground below, he remarked that it would be easy to push someone to their death. Stepping back from the ledge you knew he was right. All it would take was a tiny jab of the elbow, a thrust of the wrist, and you’d be gone, the unfortunate victim of a “slip and fall.”
Now, pried up against this wall made of two-by-fours, you’re wondering how it is that you’ve found yourself in this position. Eighteen years old, on your first summer break from college, and stranded in a strange state five hundred miles from home and anyone who knows or loves you. How is it that someone who was once so strong, independent, and smart could be cowering in a corner while simultaneously rationalizing her boyfriend’s homicidal behavior and praying for her life?
The answer is horrifying simple. You’ve fallen down the rabbit hole of an abusive relationship, where reality becomes twisted, everything is your fault, and mental pain and suffering is inflicted to control you or, just for fun.
Lea, three short months before she fell down the rabbit hole.
Your slide into this particular position was both shockingly fast and slow. Fast, because you’ve only been with him for less than ten months, yet you can barely recognize your former self. But it was slow too because this craziness didn’t start on day one. Instead it was the slow, drip-drip effect of a thousand tiny transgressions that accumulated until you were over your head, gasping for air.
Early on you thought about getting out, but you’d already had premarital sex with this monster, an act your religion taught you was a mortal sin. And deep in your soul, you believed the only way to obtain forgiveness and secure your salvation was to stay with him, make it work, and eventually marry him. But you also know there is no good ending with this young man. He will eventually kill you. Or if by some miracle you survive, you’ll be so whittled, so empty, you will cease to exist.
Torn between these two bad outcomes, you sit, paralyzed with fear as you dread his discovery of you in this cramped corner.
Here’s what I wish you could do right now: Sneak out of the basement, find the nearest phone, and dial the police. They will watch over you and keep him at bay as you pack your suitcase, then they’ll escort you to the airport, help you exchange your ticket, and get you home safely.
But that is the desire of a forty-two year old woman who’s seasoned by life and experiences you can’t even begin to imagine. At eighteen, you’re afraid to dial that phone because there are so many uncertainties. Will he find you and lash out before you’ve even completed the call? If you do make it through, will he convince the responding officers that you’re just being dramatic, overreacting to a little harmless fun? If so, can you be strong enough to insist that you’re right and he’s most definitely wrong? And if he does manage to send them away without offering you help, what punishment will lie in store for your disloyalty and misbehavior?
Grown-up Lea!
So knowing you as I do, I understand that you’ll remain where you are, bidding your time on this vacation from hell until you finally get to go home.
But guess what? When you do return to your dysfunctional but not homicidal family, you’ll have a few precious weeks by yourself before school starts again. It won’t be long enough to heal, but it’ll give you some breathing room, a chance to get your head back on straight and begin to grapple with how broken you’ve become. And though you’ll still see him after you get back to college, you’ll have gained enough understanding to realize this can’t continue. And eventually, five months from now, you’ll have gained the strength you need to say the words that have been looping through your head for what seems like forever: “I’m not happy. I want out.”
The end won’t be easy of course. There will be stalking, harassment, threats of throwing you in front of a New York City subway train, or suggestions that you’ll lose an eye or an appendage for all the pain you’ve caused him. Unfortunately, you’ll struggle with the aftermath of his abuse and depravity for more than you care to admit. But I want you to know a few things: You are strong. You don’t deserve this. You will survive. And best of all, there is so much joy in store for you, so much love and contentment. Your life will be happy.
And some day, after you’ve gained forty-two years worth of wisdom, you might be in the position to help another teenager who’s cowering in a corner, afraid of her boyfriend’s wrath. When that day comes, tell her to believe in herself, ask for help, and most importantly, to get out. Because she doesn’t deserve the abuse either.
Entangled Teen, October 2012.
Lea Nolan writes the kinds of stories she sought as a teen—smart paranormals with bright heroines, crazy-hot heroes, diabolical plot twists, plus a dose of magic, a draft of romance, and a sprinkle of history. She holds degrees in history and women’s studies concentrating in public policy and spent fifteen years as a health policy analyst and researcher. She lives in Maryland with her heroically supportive husband and three clever children. She is the author of CONJURE, book one in The Hoodoo Apprentice Series. Find out more on Lea’s website, or visit her on Facebook, Twitter and on Goodreads.
So powerful! Thanks for sharing, Lea. It’s amazing how strong we can be when we have to be. It is also frightening how often these situations occur. So glad you’re speaking out.
I think they should have “Refuse to be a victim” clubs in high schools and colleges, offering support for young adults in crisis.
Oh.my.goodness. Thank you for sharing your courageous story Lea. As a thirty something year old women and mother, I wanted nothing more than to pull your former teenage self out of that situation and tell you that everything would eventually be alright. It’s a horrifying reality that so many others are in similar situations and feel they don’t have a way out, when in reality they do. They just don’t see it yet. Thank you for sharing your story so that those caught in this horrifying hell realize there is hope.
I love this. From the first sentence, she had me wrapped around her words because the scene was the last thing I expected.
Beautiful lesson.
Wow. What a powerful story, Lea. And such an important lesson. Thank you for your bravery in sharing it with us.
Frightening, but powerful story, Lea. Beautifully told.
WOW Lea! This was so powerful, heartbreaking…I’m without words. I’m so sorry you had to go through that. No one should have to live with abuse, whether it’s physical or emotional. I’m sharing this with my daughter. I hope she knows how much she is loved and that she never has to put up with abuse of any kind.
Damn, Lea. I wish I could travel back in time and give you a hug. (And also kick that guy in the balls.) Thank you for sharing this–I know it wasn’t easy. (I’ve been there, too. Next time we meet, I’ll tell you that story.) I hope your post gives someone the encouragement he or she needs today to ask for help in escaping an abusive relationship.
This is so powerful, so lovely. Thank you for sharing, Lea. What guts!
Thank you for sharing this Lea! Definitely a message every teen girl needs to hear.
Lea, thank you for your bravery in sharing this story. Knowing you, I can attest to the fact that a girl can survive an abusive relationship and become a lovely, loving person.
Some of the strongest, smartest, and bravest women of this world have been duped by some of the most manipulative, mentally ill men of this world… I like the quote by Maya Angelou – “My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive; and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humor, and some style.” You have done that heroically well!
So very proud of you for sharing your story and helping another girl find the courage to stand up for herself. Love you, sistah!
What an amazingly powerful story, Lea. Thank you for having the courage to share it.
Wow, I wish I had your story when I was a teenager because the same thing happened to me. Forced into a sexual relationship that I blamed myself for not stopping, despite my not wanting it. Then feeling trapped in an emotionally/psychologically abusive relationship to make it “right”. It took time for me to gather myself too and get out, I was only 15 years old and the relationship was on and off for about two years (the guy was two grades but three years older). The shame and guilt I carried with me for a long time afterwards. Now at 39 I see the person I was and understand how I was in over my head. I have finally forgiven myself and understand it was not my fault. I want to empower girls to be able to leave these types of relationships and also leave the shame, guilt and pain behind.
Thank you for sharing your story! I hope it gets to those who need to hear it. And if one of those girls is reading this now- get out and forgive yourself. Strong people can fall down the rabbit hole too.
Girl, I love you. I love the woman that you are, I love your humor and your caring heart, and to know that you had to go through this breaks mine. I’m so glad you are safe and strong and have an amazing family that treats you the way you deserve to be treated now. Thank you for being brave enough to share your story. I know it will bless many. xoxoxo
Wow. Thanks for sharing. That is just wow. Takes a lot of strength to break away from someone like that. Be very proud that you were able. A lot of people can’t. I’m so sorry you went through that. *hugs*. It takes a lot of strength to realize that his abuse wasn’t your fault.
Wow. Thanks for sharing. I hope this story reaches many, many teenagers.
We women are so hard on ourselves and take criticism so personally. Glad you found the inner strength to come back.
Thanks for sharing your story Lea… I’m so glad you found the strength to walk away…
I hope your story helps others too!
*HUGS*
Lisa
Just wow.
Hugs for 18 year old you and even bigger hugs for 42 year old you for your courage and your willingness to share such a difficult story…I know this will save some other girl suffering the same fear and abuse and give her the courage to walk away.
Lea you gave me chills and have me near tears at work right now. I just can’t imagine. Thank you for sharing your letter with us. What an amazingly strong woman you are!
~Anna
[...] Last for right now, go read this. I saw this just now via my friend Haddayr and damn it. Gorgeousness. [...]
Wow, Lea. Amazing story. and amazing woman who wrote it. Amazing girl who survived it. I am very glad you found you are strong and will survive and find joy.
Hugs.
And now I really wish teen me had been friends with teen you, because teen him would have ended up with a lot less hair (Nair in shampoo) and some raging ongoing issues with diarrhea (laxatives in his cereal). Just sayin’.
Glad you survived, babe, because the world is most definitely a better place with you in it!
Love you!
-Cecily
I’m so glad you were brave-strong-enough to save yourself. And for sharing your story with others who need to hear it. What a survivor!
Wow… Lea, Thank you for sharing.
Wow that was so moving thank you for having the courage to share this with us.
So proud of you, not only for sharing, but for finding the courage to walk away and now hopefully help someone else. Been down the “rabbit hole” and that’s what influenced my decision to write YA. You are an awesome lady.
Recently I agreed to judge a high school poetry writing contest. I am combing through hundreds of entries. My problem is not just to find the top ones, but seeing how many have dark themes, and trying to tell myself the kids are just highly imaginative. So many of them have images of people caught in something they don’t know how to get out of, or dealing with loss, or fear of what might happen tomorrow. Lea, your story is so moving and scary because so many people live something similar.
What a powerful story of bravery, Lea! Kudos to you for sharing it and for overcoming an abusive relationship. I hope your story helps other girls in this same situation. Hugs.
Lea, this is an incredible story. Unfortunately, so many young women find themselves deep in an abusive relationship before they even realize it. I’m so grateful you made it out of that relationship alive. I’ll be sharing this post.
Wow. That is such a powerful story, and it is one that does need to be told.
I got chills reading this. <> Thank you for telling your story, Lea. It’s one that girls and women need to hear.
Thanks for sharing your powerful story, Lea. Everyone girl/woman needs to read this.
Thanks for sharing this with us, Lea. You’re an amazing woman. Strong and an inspiration. I hope this helps lots of other girls who find themselves going through such an awful time.
Thank you for sharing this amazingly powerful story!