The day I told my parents

I kept quiet for 13 months. He told me not to tell, so I didn’t.  I’d tell people he needed help.  My mom didn’t understand why he needed help.  I’d say he had depression, but she didn’t realize how bad it was.

The day I told my parents, I was in a fight with him. We fought often. Every week basically, but I never really told my them when we fought.  This fight was bad.  I was done with waiting around for him to get help when he was never going to get it.  I remember I was in the car with my dad and he asked my if my ex could drive me to an appointment before my mom showed up.  I said no and my dad started asking me why.  Eventually, I told him we were in a fight.  I told him something about my ex posturing to grab my wrists.  My dad didn’t respond.

When I got home, my dad told my mom we were in a fight. I didn’t tell them anything, but eventually I told them how he hit me.  My mom flipped out.

My mom invited his family over for Thanksgiving awhile back because she thought they were going to be part of the family one day.  She started freaking out that she had to spend time with the guy that was hurting me. Eventually, my mom’s good friend (who is also a survivor) started talking to me about how it’s still my choice to stay with him, but I need help.  During the dinner, he went upstairs and punched a pillow because my mom told him he needed therapy. Therapy wasn’t going to fix him though – he was far gone.

On black Friday, I broke up with him. I told him that I loved him, but couldn’t be with him if he didn’t get help.  I didn’t love him… He lost my love long ago.

On that Saturday, I reported.  It all spilled out. The countless rapes, his manipulative behavior, the times he pestered me to do things against my will, the isolation… Everything. It was abuse.  I was in shock for months, but that was the start to my healing.

He may have told me not to tell because he thought he could get away with it in his sociopath way.  People ask me why I didn’t tell sooner, but there is no answer. I just couldn’t.  I didn’t trust anyone and I thought I was going to get hurt.

After all that happened – I was still able to tell. And I won’t let him win. I am braver and stronger than he thinks!

7 thoughts on “The day I told my parents

  1. Yes, my friend you’re stronger. People seem to ask why, probably because they have not experienced DV. The why, is your’s and only yours. The key is you told someone, let all of the pent up emotions and pain out. It’s takes a lot to tell your parents. They love us but, you’ve spent so much time covering the tracks, they never saw. Getting past the pain and anger is a long journey, one that often requires professional help and from those we love. A huge weight is off you shoulders and your new life is to unfold in front of you. I pray you can reach a point of not carrying around bitterness, it’s so easy to do. Bitterness let’s the abuser win and in essence continue the abuse. From what I’ve read you are a determined woman who wants a better future. I hold my hand out anytime you need me, just take my hand I will do anything I can or just listen. Hugs. I’m so glad you stopped by my site today.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Girl, you are strong. Your story makes me sad as it reminds me if what I have gone through, it is painful to write but it is a form of healing. I always say I’m a survivor of violence never the victim and so are you. Keep writing ok.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Thanks. Writing is easy for me. I’ve realized that. I look at it as now I have a story to tell whether he likes it or not (although he probably doesn’t like me telling his story but I don’t care anymore). I was quiet for too long and I’m not the one to keep quiet.

    Liked by 1 person

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