PROLOGUE
“There is one universal truth, applicable to all countries, cultures, and communities: violence against women is never acceptable, never excusable, never tolerable.”
– Ban Ki-moon (2008)
On October 05, 2019 @ 2:34 a.m., the trajectory of my life changed forever….
Domestic violence is complicated, and I hope understanding the nuances of this endemic problem might provide space for these stories to be held. One story in particular got me thinking, not because of the blatant harm of the woman’s abuser, but because of the subtlety of abuse.She’s agreed to let me tell her story here…
I was almost 17 when I had my first kiss. A month later, I was asked by my friend to explore each other’s bodies in a department store dressing room. He told me I joked about walking around naked too much, and if I meant it, I should just show him my body. The encounter left him with blue balls, and he could not resolve the issue himself. He told me he could no longer look at me as a friend because of the pain his erection caused. I was concerned, and felt his pain was my fault.
He said we could not be friends unless we had sex to resolve the pain. He told me to look at it as an opportunity to explore each other’s bodies once more, and take the pressure off of sex with future partners. I said no many times before I said yes. I tried to negotiate with him, but he insisted that he could not resolve his blue balls unless I was naked. I said yes after much pleading and coercing, and almost didn’t go through with it. He said we could not be friends unless we had sex, so I gave in. He was one of my best friends at the time, and I could not imagine my senior year without him. I told myself I felt selfish for not giving in to what he wanted. He told me I was the most selfless person he knew, and because I liked that idea about myself, I wanted to make sure I didn’t do anything to change his mind.
We got together like this for the next few nights. He asked me if I enjoyed it, and I did not want to say no, so I told him I was too overwhelmed. But he kept pushing and pushing, and told me to tell him I wanted to. Unaware of what was happening, I eventually grew feelings for him. We dated in secret, away from our parents, off and on for almost a year. It was a very tumultuous relationship.
His best friend sometimes texted me when we were in the middle of a fight, to get me to see his side. His friend was complicit in what happened to me, and told me he didn’t think my boyfriend was a good person but that I should still be with him.
Because we had to hide our relationship from our parents, and my mother worked at our school, we met at night in our homes. He would usually sneak over on weeknights, and I would sneak over on weekends. I was very tired the next day and had a hard time participating in class. When he came over, I would often fall asleep, and he would wake me up to make out and do other things. He got upset and left if I did not stay awake while he was there, and would be passive- aggressive at school the next day. Nights he did not sneak over were because we got in an argument (which was often), I had a test the next day (less often), or I lied and said my mother was sleeping in the next room. He called that a “night off.”
We mostly did oral sex because penetration was too painful. I later learned that the trauma of my relationship with him caused vaginismus and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). I tried to fix this but could not figure it out. He told me that my body was abnormal and that I should go to the doctor because something didn’t feel right. I went, and nothing was wrong.
Sometimes he would get caught for sneaking out, and his parents would take his phone away. During those times, he would text me through his friend. He said he had an app that let him access his friend’s phone number and send messages. I don’t know how often he did that, or if
