The Curse of the Twenties

My Back Story

My back story

Where do I start?

How does anyone start a short explanation of their life? It’s not that easy. So let’s give it a try.

I was always what most people would call a ‘goody two shoes’. I’m pretty sure that’s the term, and what does that really mean anyway? I always did what I was told, and when I didn’t I bulked at being scolded or getting in trouble. I hated getting in trouble. I grew up shy and I was on the chubby side while growing up. During primary school I was bullied to the point of a boy grabbing me by the front of my uniform and shoving me up against the bag racks and close to punching me, I was eleven years old. He was expelled, though... idiot.

I was teased. Laughed at. I never thought I could be seen as a girl that guys would ‘like-like’, especially because my close group of three friends were always in the lime light for boys’ attention. High school was different. I made friends but still shied away from boys... it wasn’t until grade nine, the first day I actually wore my hair out for once, that guys started to pay attention.

Weird right? How hair can make a change like that?

It was so strange for me to receive attention from boys and I honestly didn’t know what to do with it. I had shed off my baby fat but was still chubbier than I would have liked. Even up to now I have body issues because of the bullying I went through as a child.

But hang on... there’s supposed to be a point to this story. So I’ll just grab my life remote and fast forward a little until I met my second proper boyfriend. Let’s call him... Dale.

So Dale... wow, he was stunner. I met him through some cliché way and he ignored me at first. I was still at my ‘guys don’t like me’ way of thinking and was so embarrassed I didn’t talk to him for the rest of the day. However, he found me through the a social media network.  Well, we hit it off and I couldn’t believe my luck! He liked me! We swapped numbers and soon were talking late into the night and into the early morning.

I want to aim this next part particularly at the girls who read this story. Don’t make the mistakes I made, ladies. Have pride and self-worth... something I didn’t have at the time. Our relationship was brilliant at the beginning, I was head over heels in love with him... and he knew that. And he used that against me. We began to fight, normal right? Except he would force me to beg for his forgiveness... get down on my knees and beg for another chance. He would use the fact that he was old enough to drive so he could go out clubbing and get any other girl, because the simple fact was that he could.

I’d never cried so much in my life. We began to fight so much and every time he would treat me like dirt... shouted that I was to act like a ‘b*tch’ because he was never going to back down to a girl. In retrospect I don’t know why I stayed with him... there were so many fights, so many days and nights that I should’ve put my foot down and shouted in his arrogant face, “I don’t give a damn what you want!” I should’ve left him.

Because things only got worse.

He moved out of home and by then I was taking the bus everyday to his house. I skipped classes and began to fail because all I wanted was to spend time with him. But even when I took the near two hour bus ride to get to his house he would still want to sleep and would sleep for four hours that I was there... doing nothing.

But that’s not the bad part. The bad part was when our fights got so out of hand that he did something I never thought he would do. He hit me. It was late at night, and I don’t even know what we were fighting about. He shoved my head away and to the ground before throwing me back against the wall. I was screaming and crying and pushing back but let’s face it... he was a big guy. He was way too strong for me.

I ended up walking to the beach with a bruised ego and manned up to tell him we were over. Because that’s what a smart woman would do... right? Well, apparently I was a lot more stupid than I thought. I went back to grab my things and he fell to his knees apologising to me. He cried and apologised over and over, and my heart broke for him.

“I’m sorry! I’ll never hit you again! I wouldn’t blame you if you left me... you should leave me!” He cried to me. And now, I wish I could’ve gone back in time and b*tch slapped myself because guess what? I forgave him and we stayed together. And it wasn’t the last time... it never is, is it?

Several times after that when we were in a particularly nasty fight he would shove me down to the ground, or throw me towards the table so I would hit it before falling down. One time in particular was the scariest... and proves how much of an idiot I had been for so long. Cursing and screaming at me while he drove me to my first day of a new job and he ended up punching me across the face. It was a shock to my body, a shock to me. So I punched back... only to be punched twice more across the face before he drove off into a random street so I could ‘walk to work myself’.

As soon as he stopped I jumped out of the car and ran... probably for my life. He was running after me, shouting he was sorry. But I’d had enough... I ran faster but he caught me by pulling at the back of my jacket and wrapped his arms around me as he hugged and apologised to me again and again.

I know what you’re thinking as you read this... ‘Let me guess... you forgave him, again?!’.

No. I screamed. I screamed for him to get off of me. “Get off me! Get. Off. Me!!!” I screamed as I attempted to push him away, but like I said, he was a big guy. It wasn’t until two women who lived in this random street heard me and came out of their house, one with a giant dog on the leash, and asked if I was okay while staring at the situation.

I pushed against Dale’s chest and finally he let go. I looked over at the two women, two brave women who heard a situation and made a move instead of standing on the side and ignoring it, and nodded before looking at Dale. “I’m fine” I said loud enough for them to hear me.

And after that I turned around and walked to work with a little help from strangers for directions. Where were my parents during all this? Why didn’t they tell me to leave the prick? The simple fact was that they never knew. They still don’t know up to now because they were always right and I was too much of a coward to ask for help. Never be afraid to ask for help. Ever! After that day I cut all ties and communication with Dale and in the end I grew from it because now I don’t take crap when it comes to belittling me and my self worth.