Work In Progress Part One

Mind Control, Manipulation and Belittling

At the beginning of my trauma recovery therapy, my therapist asked me to describe my traumatic events. She wanted me to write down everything from who I was with and what I was wearing when the events happened to how and why they happened. My therapist asked me to do the same thing at the end of my recovery therapy. This piece is a result of the later request. It documents my healing journey, my gradual steps to self love, and my shift from feelings of shame and guilt to feelings of empowerment and hope.

I am sharing this piece to help others heal. I documented these chapters  of my life not in hopes of judging myself, but with the intention of sending myself and others love. My hope is that this piece inspires others along their journey, and provides them with the courage to see that there is so much more beyond the difficulties. 

Part One

Freshman Year

I would like to think I took my freshman year of college by storm. I stayed in the only freshman dorm on campus with air conditioning, had great grades, was part of some of the more “lit” organizations on campus, and made lifelong friends. Not to mention, I was able to turn up at least four days a week and practically never have a hangover. 

JANUARY 2015

Things only got better in the second semester when I started dating my best friend. We met the summer before our senior year of high school, and he ended up going to a neighboring college. We had SO much fun together, non-stop laughter and jokes. Things just felt right with him. But I guess another girl (and maybe a few guys?) felt that things “just felt right” with him also. 

MARCH 2015  

He was an incredibly talented photographer/videographer, and (I think) slightly resembled Will Smith. A few months into our relationship, an upperclassman asked him to be her campaign manager for the biggest pageant of the year. I didn’t think anything of it because he was great and I trusted him.

MAY 2015 

One night, I went to his dorm room around 1am as she was leaving. I began questioning everything about our relationship, about him as a person, and about myself. I truly believed nothing happened that night, but the rumors kept circulating. My insecurities and doubts only increased as I allowed other people’s opinions to influence our relationship. I broke up with him after a close friend told me that my boyfriend was sleeping with his male friends. I never received confirmation of if this was true or not, but the suggestion of it was enough for me to leave.

I was heartbroken and devastated. I felt inadequate, as if he cheated because I wasn’t enough. While I always struggled with attaching my worth to what others thought of me, this was the first time I slipped into a depression. I barely ate, stayed in bed for days, and only spoke negatively about myself. I allowed time to heal my wounds as best as it could, and I started leaving my room and eating more. But the self-doubt and insecurities never left.

Sophomore Year

While still hurt, I began talking to another guy the summer after my freshman year. Knowing I was vulnerable from my last relationship, he took advantage and maneuvered his way into my life as the “older and wiser” friend. 

That summer, I was living with my older brother in Detroit and interning at a company that paid me just above minimum wage. This man suggested that he fly out to Detroit to visit me. Although I was flattered, I protested and suggested that this was quite an aggressive move for somebody that I didn’t even know if I liked. Despite my hesitations, he sent me a screenshot of his flight confirmation while I was at work. 

JULY 2015

When he came into town, I remember everything feeling forced with him. Sure, there was some type of a connection, but not one that I was running to my friends about. Although I knew I didn’t have strong feelings for him, I let this man talk my nineteen-year-old, minimum wage-making self into paying for half his hotel room one night. After our weekend together, he proceeded to tell his close friends (who were in the sorority that I wanted to pledge) about us without consulting me. I felt like he took my journey into Greek life in his own hands. I felt powerless, but at the time I didn’t know how to label this feeling. 

Because he told his friends about us, I assumed that he was not talking to any other girls too seriously. By this, I mean I assumed he wasn’t having sex with anybody else.

That same summer, I met my brother's friend - for the sake of this piece, let's call him Gabriel. We instantly had a connection. Something strong enough for me to text my mom about him immediately, and I NEVER told my parents about my relationships. We went on a few dates, hung out a few times and things just flowed naturally. Gabriel made me happy. 

But, because of this other man flying to Detroit to visit me and telling his friends about us, I felt as if I had to be loyal to him. So when the summer ended, I regrettably distanced myself from Gabriel. 

AUGUST 2015

After a couple of weeks of being back in Miami and in close proximity to the man that flew to Detroit for me, we began having sex without a condom. Something I had never done before, and quite frankly wasn’t comfortable with. He came inside me not only without my permission, but also against my wishes. I felt objectified. Him not caring enough to ask for my consent clearly demonstrated that he placed his needs and desires above mine. Shortly after this, I found out he was still sleeping with other girls. I felt DUMB. 

I stopped talking to him for a few days, but then he reached out to our mutual friends and explained the story the way he perceived things, so of course details were excluded in his favor. Needless to say, we ended up talking again. I felt insecure. I felt like our sex was terrible and it was my fault. That’s how I justified him having sex with other girls.

FEBRUARY 2016

One night, I didn’t want to have sex. I said no, but he proceeded to penetrate me. He said that he just “needed to nut”. As soon as he finished, I cried. He punched a wall and stormed out of his room - like he knew he did something wrong. He came back and begged me to stay the night with him, and I did. I figured if he wouldn’t accept me saying no to having sex with him, then would he let me leave? No, probably not. 

I didn’t know how to feel. I said no, so this was rape...right? This was somebody that I thought cared for me, how could it be rape if we were in a relationship? I had these thoughts, but I was too scared to seek out answers. Knowing that I was raped by somebody that I thought cared for me would completely disrupt my idea of safety. I chose to remain ignorant in this situation. 

Again, I stopped talking to him for a few days. My brother threatened him via Instagram DMs and had his friend who was this man’s prophyte reach out to him as well. But what did I do? Went back to him just a few weeks later. 

MARCH 2016

After nearly nine months of being intimate, our sex was still not good. So much so that he suggested I go to a doctor to get checked out. Since he had no problem cuming on a consistent basis, I had to be the issue. So, I went to the doctor. Of course, the doctor said absolutely nothing was wrong with me. After sharing this news with him, he took it upon himself to diagnose me via his extensive google searches. 

After all of this, I stayed with him. I lost so much of myself that I told both him and his roommate that I was okay with him having sex with other girls. I told them that I knew that sex with other women was just sex, nothing more. I said that since I could not provide what he needed, he should feel empowered to find it elsewhere. While I was giving him permission to sleep with other girls, I was still rejecting Gabriel. I was choosing to be loyal to somebody that did not deserve my loyalty, and damaging myself more by staying in this unhealthy relationship.

We kept seeing each other until the end of the year. He graduated and was going to school in another state, but I still had two years left of school in Miami. I didn’t see a future with us, but we continued to talk and dance around the idea of a future while I studied abroad for a month before my summer internship. 

Junior Year

JUNE 2016

I had a week of orientation for my summer internship in California, where he was also completing a summer internship. We saw each other several times that week. We had sex, and he used a condom this time. After almost a year of having consistent sex without a condom, I suspected something was going on. 

Just days after seeing me in person, he texted me on the first day of my internship that he had chlamydia and that I should go get tested. He didn’t call me. Didn’t tell me in person. He told me this information at a time and in a way that was only convenient for him. 

I blocked him, then he proceeded to reach out to our mutual friends. He told them he didn’t know why I stopped talking to him, but emailed me to apologize and express his remorse.

AUGUST 2016

That same summer, just months after I found out I had chlamydia, Gabriel came to visit me in Denver. He flew down for the weekend, and everything felt right. 

The first night he came into town, we had sex. I remember feeling insecure and scared that he would think I was just as bad as the other men thought I was. Bad enough to go have sex with other women. (In retrospect, these feelings were definitely a sign that I should not have been having sex at all.)

After having been tested multiple times at Planned Parenthood in Denver, I received a call the next morning that I did in fact have Chlamydia. I felt disgusted with myself. Not only was I affected, but now I was also putting both the mental and physical health of somebody I cared about in danger. 

Gabriel and I spent the entire day sightseeing in Denver and enjoying each other’s company. I was too scared to tell him. So rather than telling him, I asked if we could just cuddle and talk all night. Even asking him not to have sex scared me. He comforted me and assured me that he came to Denver for me, not to have sex with me. Now, I recognize that he was slowly teaching me how to love and respect myself again. He was slowly helping me heal from my trauma.

Sunday evening, more than 24 hours after receiving the call from Planned Parenthood, I built up enough courage to tell Gabriel that I had chlamydia. Feeling so ashamed, embarrassed, hurt and disgusted with myself, I immediately left the patio where we were sitting to go cry in my bedroom. Within minutes, Gabriel came in to comfort me. Playing Fantasia and offering to order pizza, he consoled me despite having recently been told that he may have an STI. I could not fathom that level of understanding and compassion. 

SEPTEMBER 2016

Gabriel started flying down from Detroit to visit me while I was in school in Miami once, sometimes twice a month. We called each other every day and texted almost non-stop when we were apart. Despite how great everything felt and how much fun we had together, I was still suffering from my past traumas. I often cried to him while expressing my fear that I wasn’t good enough at sex. At the time, I thought sex would determine how much he cared for me. If I was bad, he would cheat. If I was good, he would stay faithful to me no matter what. This belief caused me to punish Gabriel for the pain other men inflicted upon me. 

OCTOBER 2016

I felt like I needed time to be alone after my previous relationships; but, Gabriel told me he didn’t want to continue flying to see me if we were not in a committed relationship. My feelings were so strong for him and the good times between us were so euphoric that I ignored my instincts to take time and focus on myself prior to getting into another relationship. I filled the void from my past relationship with a new relationship, rather than filling it with love for myself.

NOVEMBER 2016

Towards the end of the semester, I had a lot of things going on. Between my obligations to my sorority, class work and finding a summer internship, I failed to book a flight back home for Thanksgiving, My parents said I needed to drive home. Not only am I a terrible driver, but I also cannot stay awake for long periods of time while driving. I expressed my sentiments to Gabriel, and within 48 hours he bought a one-way flight from Detroit to Miami to help me drive up to the midwest. This was our first of many road trips together.

The entire drive up, we sang along to songs and talked as we held hands. After more than a ten hour drive, we spent days in his apartment in Detroit just talking and cuddling. This was the first time he told me he loved me. 

Just days after feeling so happy, my dad found me hysterically crying on my closet floor. My seasonal depression and unresolved feelings from my past traumas were weighing me down. I was so sad, and couldn’t understand why. The man of my dreams just expressed his love for me and I had this feeling of emptiness that I couldn’t explain. 

Gabriel made me SO happy. But the human mind is a complex thing. While Gabriel proved to be loyal, dedicated, loving, compassionate, understanding and so much more, I convinced myself that I wasn’t good enough for him. My lack of self love and compassion coupled with feelings towards myself that stemmed from how other men treated me (i.e.lying, cheating and manipulation ) led me to believe that I was worthless. Despite these feelings, Gabriel and I kept dating. I overlooked all the red flags that were screaming for me to get help because I thought Gabriel was the love of my life. Rather than initially waiting to date or taking time apart, I stayed in a relationship that I knew I wasn’t ready for. I was addicted to the happiness I felt with him. He insisted that we heal and grow together, and at the time I believed that this was possible and the best approach for me to heal.

FEBRUARY 2017

In February, just four months after becoming official, Gabriel invited me to his family’s annual glamping trip in Tennessee. I met his mother, father, aunts, uncles and so forth. They accepted me immediately and cared for me as if I was already part of the family. It became overwhelmingly clear why he was such an amazing man and he was raised by an amazing tribe. 

One evening, we got drinks in the neighboring town. We got so drunk that we went to Build-a-Bear and made a yellow stuffed animal together, made love in my car in the parking lot, and ate at Popeye’s. We could have the best time doing absolutely anything together. He was my best friend.

As our relationship progressed, my feelings for him deepened but my insecurities still lingered.