I Was In An Abusive Relationship And What I Really Needed Was Community
By: Benny Del Castillo, Engagement Manager at NVRDC
[Content Warning: There are mentions and detailed recollections of teen dating violence, including: emotional abuse, stalking behaviors, threat of suicide and intimidation. If this is not something you wish to engage with right now, that is ok.]
I heard my phone vibrate…again. It was about the 10th call that night. I decided to answer the phone and realized the voice I heard on the other end was Eminem’s. Yes, that Eminem…The Real Slim Shady. For any true fan, this might have been a great surprise but I quickly realized it was a song: Stan to be exact. I quickly went from annoyed to a little bit terrified. For anyone who wasn’t an Eminem listener, Stan is a song about a “crazed” fan who, by the end, puts his pregnant girlfriend in the trunk of his car and proceeds to drive the car off a bridge. So yes, it was quite frightening to hear those words through my cellphone. And yet, it wasn’t surprising.
I had been in a relationship with C for 3 years by this point, since we were both 16 years old. It has taken me many years but there is no doubt in my mind about it now, I was in an abusive relationship; he was verbally, emotionally and physically abusive. So him calling me repeatedly when I told him not to, was pretty common and quite “normal.” This song choice, though, did escalate things; I remember wondering if he was threatening me with something but then that thought quickly being replaced with, “Stop being so dramatic.” I had broken up with C a couple of days earlier after yet another fight and his coping wasn’t going well. We had had a fight, he had apologized and I had decided not to forgive. *insert line on cycles of abuse and how this is very common in abusive relationships* I had told him I just wanted to be left alone and like always, he didn’t agree so it didn’t quite matter what I wanted. Boundaries? Respect? Consent? C was not a fan of any of them and I didn’t even realize (or have anyone tell me) this was relationship 101.
After one verse, I hung up, turned off my phone and sat up on my bed. I remember wondering what it would take for him to stop - I knew I still loved him (yup, I very much still did - also very common, by the way!) but I also knew it was getting scary.
The next morning, I was alone, my dad was already at work and I put on my coat, grabbed my backpack and opened the door - there he was. C stared right at me.
“What are you doing here?” I was in shock.
“I thought I could drive you to class,” he said timidly.
I reminded him I had told him I didn't want to talk to him or see him. That I was still angry. We went back and forth until I was officially late for class - I’ll take you, he reminded me.
I got in his car - where I thought I would never be again. I looked out the window as I reminded him that we were not back together. He started crying, “I’m so sorry.”
Maybe this is the part where there is a whole section of folks cheering me on to not give in, to not care that he was crying. But, yes, my determination wilted. When I saw him cry, after I had yelled at him (after he called me all night and showed up at my house unannounced), I blamed myself. *cue cliche and automatic responses of “it’s not your fault”* But it was true, I blamed myself for what my ex-boyfriend was doing because…well, why wouldn’t I?
I ask this honestly. What do we actually expect people to believe? Why wouldn’t I think it was a “me” problem? Why wouldn’t I think that his behavior was nothing else but uncontrollable love? That’s what he was saying, anyway. And after the repeated chorus of “but they’re such a nice person,” from everyone you know, one starts to have doubts that it's not just…you. I wish I had had just one person, just ONE, tell me that this wasn’t okay. Not to get too cheesy, but that would have been love, someone actually showing care for me would be them trying their very best to take it seriously…to take me, my fears and my feelings seriously. I needed support.
After the car ride, he told me he would stop. *sigh*
That weekend, he texted me that he wanted his promise ring back, the one he had given me for our 1 year anniversary. Oh to be 17 again and have someone shop at Kay Jewelers for you! Now, I can understand and even celebrate pettiness so I replied with a simple, “Fine, you can pick it up.”
I went downstairs and met him outside, in the building complex parking lot. He approached and even the Eminiem song didn’t prepare me for when he took out a pocket knife and held it against his throat. “I want you to see me die.” He stated simply.
I can’t say this was the first time he had threatened me with killing himself. It was not. But there is nothing I can say to convey what it feels like to see someone do this. I approached him, truly unsure of what I was planning on doing or even saying.
“Please stop,” I pleaded.
I dropped the ring, it softly fell somewhere in the grass. He put down the knife and told me how horrible I was - I knew I needed to leave immediately - I needed to get back into my house. And then, as soon as I turned around I regretted it. For those 3 seconds in time, I was absolutely certain he would stab my back with his knife. Without a doubt, certainty. Scary certainty. It is now over 10 years later and I am still terrified and don’t allow anyone to walk behind me - level of certainty.
He didn’t stab me. He just kept me outside with him. I am intentionally using the word “just” here because while I was scared, his other actions made me feel thankful for this one. Messed up, right? You actually become so accustomed to this type of behavior, you’re thankful to be held hostage because at least you’re not watching someone kill themselves. This is the reality of the life I was living.
Now, there is one moment in time which has stayed with me and which, to this day, I think of often. As he was physically holding me against a railing, not allowing me to leave, I turned my head to the right and saw two people walking across the parking lot. They turned to look and I locked eyes with one of them. I said nothing and they kept looking. Maybe I should have screamed or said…anything. But I froze and to be honest, was embarrassed. And to this day, I wonder if they knew I needed help. And to this day, I wish they had stopped and asked.
I promise this isn’t a PSA on bystander intervention or a PSA about anything, really. But it is, perhaps, an invitation. As a survivor of stalking, it is not so much about what C did but how little it seemed to concern people (this does not mean I have forgotten everything he did or forgiven him - a hearty NO to both). To be honest, what hurt a lot (the most) was how much people seemed to be “impressed” at what they deemed to be true love and care for me. Not only because no one could validate that I had experienced some scary stuff - quite chilling to be honest - but also because they were defending a person who was causing me harm. Now, a decade later, I still have to be wary of my relationships because of what those responses left me with: a fucked up view on relationships, connection, love and care.
So yes, I still feel really uncomfortable with people being behind me, I flinch and have nightmares about it. These are the more typical responses people expect you to experience and I promise they are there. But I also have to work very hard to engage in healthy relationships and rewire my brain; to unlearn a lot of what I had been told and taught repeatedly throughout the years. Not only by peers but what the media told me too. Looking at you, Twilight! I am now 33 years old, have a fully formed brain and have both studied and worked in the field of violence prevention but 16-year-old me? 19-year-old me? What did they know? Don’t get me wrong, I think I, like many other teens, was quite smart and had even read about this sort of relationship but now I also know that when you’re “in it” it is so difficult to see, actually see, what is happening.
Throughout my experiences of abuse, which included stalking, I was constantly told and reassured that what I was actually experiencing was love - a huge, deep, uncontrollable love. So yes, that messes with you and your expectations of future romantic relationships (and relationships in general). From thinking jealousy is a big compliment and proof someone likes you (this took me way too long to unlearn) to striving to connect and be loved but unable to trust and be vulnerable because why would you when people have treated you so horribly? (still working on this one).
And maybe that’s also the tough part to sit with: the unfairness of it all. Not to sound too much like a child complaining but sometimes, things are not fair! And when the responsibility of healing, of processing, of unlearning, of challenging everything you have been told, of struggling, of remembering, of trying so hard to just “move on” is all on you - it plain old sucks. There is no other way around it.
So what do we do? Well, we can try and do better; the more we know, the more our beliefs and actions can shift and change. Do I expect you, a single reader, to end stalking and teen dating violence all by yourself? No! But I do expect a lot from my community, I expect a whole lot from our society, from all of us, together. I share my story to hopefully highlight what was missing for me and hope all of us can incorporate this for ourselves and others. I hope for a community that loves and supports one another. With this, I truly believe there will be change.
And to all survivors, I see you.