we are seashells not a string of pearls

Mar 03, 2006 11:39

It seems like everything and everyone around me is reminding me of how powerful words are, especially that three word sentence. So let me tell you a little about myself and perhaps it will effect or help someone.
I guess you can say I’ve been privileged or sheltered for most of my life. I’ve have a family that is pretty well off. My mom is a social worker and my dad is an engineer. Both bring home pretty good pay checks. My immediate family consisted of a mom and a dad (who are still married after 23 years) a younger brother and a golden retriever, the ideal American family. Everything that I’ve wanted I’ve basically gotten. I had the best swing set in the neighborhood when I was very young. We then replaced the swing set/ sandbox with a pool and now I also have a hot tub. Also every summer we have taken a two week vacation somewhere in the United States. Plus my parents have given me the opportunity to travel overseas and to Mexico plenty of times. I was also close to my entire family grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, lets just say thanks to family reunions I pretty much know everyone up to my third or fourth cousins.
My mom claims that I was a perfect child up till my teen years. I guess she’s right. When I was thirteen I tried my first cig. Big freakin deal. Then things started to change was when I was 15. I got my first boyfriend, real boyfriend, where you actually go on dates, hold hands, kiss, and all of that. I lost my virginity to him shortly after I turned 16. I thought I was so cool, but boy was I wrong. About 5 months later for whatever reason he thought I was cheating on him. (I wasn’t) we had our problems like anyone but I didn’t think anything of it. Then one day when I drove to Fraser, MI (where the guy lived, just outside Detroit). We decided to watch a movie. But like any typical guy he had a tv in his room and his bed positioned so. Anyways as the movie started he tried to make the move on me. AHH HELL he wanted to have sex…I didn’t. He told me that I was sleeping with other guys, which I wasn’t. He then held me down and raped me. I kicked and screamed and everything else to my ability…his mom who was in the other room didn’t bother to even open the door. When he finally finished and I forced myself to stand up grab my keys pull up my pants and start running for the door, he grabbed me and said do you know why I did that? I answered no and whatever he was about to say would never justify what he did to me, but he still answered. “Because that’s all you’re good for, that’s the only way you’ll ever be able to make a guy happy.” I ran out of the room and darted for the front door. There his mom caught me and said “this is all your fault.”
As I started to drive I realized I was in no shape to drive. I went to the nearest mall (2 blocks away) and called my then best friend. I was sobbing into the phone begging her to come up there to follow me home. She said she couldn’t understand me, but asked if he hit me. I said no he didn’t hit me, and I guess because he didn’t “hit me” she didn’t feel it was necessary to come up there. I was there alone and the only other person I could think of was my now ex the first guy that raped me, friend, a guy I have talked to quite a few times, and only met a couple times. I called him what else could I do? He calmed me down enough and followed me the hour and 15 minutes home, just to turn around and go right back. I went to the police station where I made a report got cotton swabbed and all that. Later that week, the navy called me. They told me that they were going to testify and say that he was taking a test for the navy at that time, blah blah blah. I was illegally forced to drop my charges. But what do you know at 16?
For whatever reason what he said to me as I tried to leave echoed through my entire body. I knew it wasn’t true, but for some reason I began to think that the only way I could get a guy was by sleeping with them. I began sleeping around and even got a few boyfriends that way, one which was over 10 years older than me and another that was a pathological liar (clinically diagnosed). As my number sky rocketed my self confidence continued to plummet and this sexual addiction was “my dirty little secret”. (because I slept with guys that were older than I was and that didn’t know anyone I knew….i never got a bad reputation.) For whatever reason I actually thought that by doing this I was gaining self confidence. I have always struggled with my weight, but hey if this guy is going to sleep with me he must be at least somewhat attracted to me. Hey if I sleep with this guy I can get something out of it, a party invite, free drinks, free meals, and dates. Yeah sounds kinda empowering, but its not. I ended up being raped several other times. I never reported them anymore because a.) I had lost faith in the legal system b.) somehow someone always found a way to put me at fault.
I also got pregnant my senior year. I knew for sure who was the father and still know to this day, despite what he said, there is not a single doubt in my mind that he IS the father. I made the final decision of abortion. It was something that I decided by myself for many many many reasons (one of which because the baby was conceived after a rape). (if you want the details you can feel free to ask me in a private convo) You can think what you want and say what you want but this is how it is. Throughout this time only two people stuck by me, gave me advice, called to check on me, or anything. Yeah all of those friends that I had…fuck them. The two people that stuck by me was one friend (the same woman that is going to be my maid of honor, and my mom). So let me tell you something about those people’s shoulders you cry on, the ones you go to parties and clubs with, all those people that you drink with, and all the people who tell you how much they love you and how they would be there for you through anything….its not true and they aren’t true friends, they are just people that you meet along the way. (Grandma always said you are lucky if you have just one true friend) Those friends didn’t stick by me when I needed them most. They didn’t give me advice before the operation, they didn’t call to make sure I was feeling ok, or even offer an ear for me to just talk. I did tell the guy the situation, I told him soon as I knew. We talked things over together and he seemed cool with it. We made a couple phone calls together. Yet it seemed like he was more concerned with his well being and what would happen to his life and basically didn’t really care what was going on with me and how my life would change. When my parents found out lets just say things really hit the roof. They did what any parent would do in that situation, they yelled, lectured, cried, were ashamed, disappointed, hurt, angry, just about everything. Whatever trust I had with my parents suddenly vanished. I asked them what I should do, and they told me that it was my decision and it was something that they couldn’t help me with. I told the guy to tell his parents and he said he did, but didn’t want anything to really do with me or the situation. He told me he would give me money with whatever I decided and that he would stay by my side. When it was the day for the operation I was there bright and early. My mom went with me so that I didn’t have to go through the court system. (I was under the age of 18 at that time) I told the guy to be there and called him nonstop. He didn’t answer his phone, and when he did he told me he was busy sleeping. I can’t tell you how much it hurt me to know that while I was about to make the biggest decision of my life a decision that would effect both my life and his, he was sleeping. So what if he worked the day and night before…he acted like I had gotten any sleep in the past couple of weeks. I was there going against my beliefs and everything that I thought was right. With the sound of the hail mary (a catholic prayer) being said by the protestors, I continued with my plans and the knowledge that I was doing what was right for me. During the wait and the procedure my mom waited. I guess I didn’t know how lucky I was until I was in the recovery room. There I talked to several of the other girls, younger, older, prettier, uglier, poorer, richer, white, black, yellow, red, married, unmarried…there wasn’t a “type” of woman that wasn’t in that room. We discussed what had happened and why we were there. Then a woman who was probably mid twenties asked if that was my mom out in the waiting room. I told her yeah. Everyone told me how lucky I was to have a mother that would stand by me through thick and thin. I guess that was the moment that it all sunk in. I was alone. I found out who my true FRIEND was. Not friends but one friend and a mom who loved me with everything she had, despite the hurt that I caused. I had a million and one strikes against me, with the wind against my back, and yet I was lucky that I had anyone at all.
The guy never called to see how I was doing, I don’t think he even cared. Finally when I had called the guy to tell him how it went and to ask for money…he told me no. My dad got on the phone yelling and got the dad’s number. When my parents told his parents…his dad didn’t know. WOW. I can’t begin to tell you what ran through my mind, but here I was 17 years old going through this by myself for the most part. I was yelled at every single day and night. I watched my parents hold back tears and listened to them cry themselves to sleep. I saw the hurt and disappointment on their face, and knew that it was there because of me and my actions. And here was this guy who is several years older than me with a good paying job and all that, and he can’t even tell his parents. Not only couldn’t he tell them, but when his dad confronted him about it, he said several things 1.) That he didn’t know if I was the father, because while I was on a FAMILY vacation in Cali I slept with a few guys. 2.) that I told him I was older (18/19) than I was 3.) he met me at a club called clutch cargos. All of these were lies. I never slept with another guy in Cali. In fact I hadn’t slept with anyone else in a couple months. Well I started to have intercourse with one other guy but didn’t even make it past putting it in real quick and taking it out….there was no cum there wasn’t even enough to happen for it to even come close. Furthermore the ultra sound that I had done pin pointed the date enough for me to rule out anyone else. He knew exactly how old I was. He had known since the time we first talked. There were no lies. We also didn’t meet in a club. I to this very day do not know where clutch cargos is located. I have never been there and don’t plan on going there at all. Yet, since I never had any dna test done or anything this got him off the hook. To this day I still believe that he knows he was the father, but he never was there to support me or even gave me a dime of money for anything.
I’d love to say that my life seemed to work itself out shortly after that, but you know what it didn’t. I had to deal with a lot of drama from one girl in high school. She’s a year younger and for whatever reason she seemed to want to make my life miserable. The day after my grandfather passed away, I found out that the guy I was sorta seeing at the time and cheated on me with her. And every day until I left high school she bothered me, trying to make me jealous, saying all this stuff. None of that really bothered me. What did bother me is that I just went through the abortion, I lost my grandfather (with whom I was very close to), I had lost all respect and trust from my parents, I didn’t feel the need to hang out with friends that didn’t stick by me when I needed them to (I left high school with what I believe as being one friend), I was planning my graduation, working two jobs, getting ready for college…and here was this girl trying to bring drama into my life….like I didn’t already have enough of my own at that time. To this day she says she doesn’t know why I dislike her…but come on get real….she backstabbed me, told lies about me, brought even more drama into my life, and just made life that much more difficult.
After I graduated from high school the girl didn’t see me anymore so that drama went away, I was ok with my grandpa’s passing, and for whatever reason I was okay with my own personal decisions. But leave it to me to get into even more trouble. I met a guy who seemed great at first. He was an ok looking guy. He was a strong Baptist. Just graduated from U of M Ann Arbor, and claimed to be a big family guy. Plus he was funny. Things went well for awhile…but quickly took a turn for the worst. He started pulling me away from my family and from my friends. He emotionally abused me and kicked me while I was down. He gained control over my life in some way. He told me what to wear and what not to wear. He made fun of my school, told me I wasn’t a Christian, told me I was going to hell if I listened to anything other than Christian, he made fun of my career choice, my major, my minor, he made fun of me for traveling the world. He would tell me that my parents were bad parents and raised me wrong and that’s why I had so many problems. I wasn’t allowed to wear anything that he didn’t buy for me. When I stood up for myself he would start a huge fight and make it seem like I was in the wrong. He would hang up on me, and if I didn’t call him back a certain amount of times it meant that I didn’t love him enough and if I called back one too many times it meant that I was a psycho. He was allowed to cheat but I wasn’t. When I had a friend, that I consider a sister, come visit me from Sweden, he would cause fights so I wouldn’t hang out with her. He would tell her that she is stupid and put her down, and would try to make me blow her off so I could “prove” my love for him. People ask me all the time why I stayed with him. Well after struggling with trying to find an answer that sounded good, I decided to settle on the truth. I honestly deep down in my heart and soul believed that I didn’t deserve any better. I believed that I had done so many bad things, unchristian things, that god was now telling me that this is what I got.
I did end up leaving him. Not because of the way he was treating me emotionally but because we got into one last fight (he was trying to get me to give up college and move with him to Houston,TX cause some idiot girl on the net told him it was a great place to live). I told him that I refused to move and that caused a huge fight. I asked to be taken home several times and he said he wasn’t done with me yet. I finally got out of the car because I was going to walk. I didn’t expect what came next. He hit me. He broke my glasses, he broke my cell phone, he called me names. He hit me, punched me, pulled my hair. He took my shoes (heels) from my feet and hit me with those. He kicked me when I was on the ground. When he got his car he tried to run me over. All this time I’m walking down a busy street in heels and a skirt yelling and screaming and crying with him beating me, and not one person stopped to ask if I was ok. Instead people would drive by beeping their horns and cheering him on. I ended up walking a mile or two to the Flat Rock police station with him doing this all the way. I turned him in and he was arrested on the spot. Along with my report several other people had turned in reports of what they saw as well. My bruises were photographed and there I stood once again in this police station….all alone. I asked for hugs or someone to talk to and was given neither. I did finally reach my mom on her cell phone and she came to pick me up. The only thing they said to her was does she cry this hysterically all the time, my mom said no, but asked what they expected a woman to act like after she was just beat and bruised and publicly humiliated.
I did press charges (rather the state pressed charges). During the that time I found it difficult to manage. I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror for several months without crying because I felt so ugly and ashamed. It hurt to laugh, so I didn’t even smile. I now had to make my own decisions again and it was more difficult than you would have thought. When it went to court, I had a 6 month restraining order put on him. I gave a written and oral testimony. There were several others who gave written testimonies. There were pictures of my bruises. There was everything. He got 6 months of community service (once a week or less). And that was it. I was told by the judge that I on the other hand shouldn’t stay with a guy like that and should look at who I’ve become.
I hated who I had become. I hated the way I looked, the way I smelled, the way I acted, the way I pushed people away. This is not the person I wanted to be. I didn’t want to sleep around, push friends away, depend on a guy, or continue to disappoint my family. I wanted to be so much more. I had to make some serious changes. I took a real look at my life. I wrote down all the things I hated about who I had become and wrote down the qualities that I liked about myself. I decided that I had a lot to offer. I have a fantastic family that stuck with me through everything. I graduated high school, I in college with a dual major and a minor, and was holding a steady job. I realized that I wasn’t the prettiest girl around, but you know what, I looked ok. I have a pretty face, a great set of boobs, and I was a pretty nice girl. I started volunteering for several things especially the John Kerry Campaign. I had a reunion so to say with a few friends and when I thought all guys were bad a friend from the past came into my life and for the first time in a very long time…I smiled my first smile. I soon began to realize who I was. I began to speak out for what I believed and what I thought. I started going out and hanging out with friends more and more, and the friends I had made weren’t the most attractive or best dressed but instead they were people that made me laugh and people that I enjoyed being around. Soon there seemed to be more guys wanting to take me out on dates and all this than I could have imagined. I decided I didn’t want a relationship, but didn’t seem any harm in getting a free lunch here and there. I also came to an understanding that despite what some people think, none of it was my fault. I wasn’t raped because I was asking for it. For those that know me you know that jeans and a tshirt aren’t “rape me” clothes. Plus no one, wait let me repeat that, NO ONE deserves to be in a relationship where the guy emotionally or physically hurts them. God does not want that, nor is he punishing you.
So there I was making all this progress. I’d be lying if I told you that I never slipped up or made mistakes…but all in all my life was coming together. I became closer than ever with my parents. I know a ton of stuff about my brother, basically because whatever he does can’t be much worse than what I’ve done. I was volunteering, my name was getting out there, I met many many political figures. I started a collection of business cards, and I was discovering who I was. I still talk to a couple of people that have hurt me, those very guys in the stories above. You may wonder why and the answer is this…because it just doesn’t bother me anymore. What’s done is done. In no way does it mean that I respect them, or even consider them close friends. They may consider me a good friend or great person…they are right about both…but I don’t view them as such. Every single day that I talk to them I hope they see the person I’ve become and know that what they did isn’t going to stop me from becoming the best I could. I hope that somewhere deep down inside they know they hurt me. They didn’t just hurt me a little bit, they hurt me a lot. I still suffer from the pain they caused me. I hope they know that everything they did to me and probably other girls is the very thing that I hope to abolish in this world. I hope they understand that I am in support of abortion. Don’t give me none of your pro-life bullshit either…I support the right to a life in third world nations, I support women in the middle east who enter prostitution as a means to make money and get out of the situation they are in, I support projects and money given to children that have aids or who’s destiny is to be sold on the street by their parents in hope to raise some money, I’m in support of the homeless that lost their job and are doing what they can to stay alive, I’m in support of the recovering drug addict that is doing whatever they can to straighten their life out) I guess you can say I’m a pro-life baby killer that supports some capital punishment. I hope they realize that I’m making strides in myself and one of the goals I hope to accomplish is to fight against the very things they did to hurt me. I would love to make the punishment for rape and domestic violence….death. I would love for a women to be able to prove through dna who the father is…as soon as she gets preg. And then make it mandatory for that father to go to all the meetings, counceling sessions, and then be in the room when a women gives birth or has an abortion. That way they can see the pain and suffering and expierence the same trama that the women had to go through to make that decision. I would also love for the man to not only pay for the kid and have the kid on weekends but to have the child during the week as well. I would love for fathers to know what its like to wake a child up get them ready for school, fix breakfast, make a lunch, take them to school or see them off on the bus, get themselves to work on time, give up their lunch break because the kid forgot his homework at home so now he has to go and bring it up to the school, get out of work on time to pick up the kid from school, latchkey or whatever, give the kid an after school snack, get them to whatever after school activity they are involved in at the time, watch their competitions or games, come home make dinner for the entire family, do the house cleaning and laundry, make sure the kid takes a shower or bath, make sure kids homework is completely done and checked over, the kid has a healthy bedtime snack and is in bed at a decent hour so the kid can get at least 7-8 hours of sleep that night, only to wake up and do it all the next day. Not saying there aren’t guys out there that do it now…but as the law stands guys don’t have to be in the delivery room, they don’t even have to know about the abortion nor are they allowed in the room, and I’m sorry but having your kid on the weekend and have all sorts of fun does not make you the kids father, it does not mean you raised your kid.
Anyways back on subject….A little after the domestic abuser (about a year), I felt that I was ready for a relationship but I was going to take it slow. In no way was I out there looking for someone. Then one of my really good guy friends (one of the best and the same one that allowed me to have my first smile), Tim asked me to go to this concert at the shelter. I of course being the good friend wanted to support him and said yes. Mr. Matthew Stellman was going to be there as well. At this point in time Matt and I hate…no strongly dislike…each other. Before the 2004 elections we had this huge debate going on. I am a tree hugging hippie liberal and he was the ultra-conservative republican. It went on for awhile and things got a little personal. Anyways this was a month after the elections and now my strategy was to be the better person and kill him with kindness. Well somewhere down the line…no I lied that night of the concert….when he looked at me, I suddenly knew we had a connection. Matt has the kindest eyes you could ever imagine. They are brown and deep. In them you see laughter, pain, kindness, and a real genuine person. You may not see these eyes at first but when he looks at you and I mean really looks, you’ll know what I’m talking about. His gazed burned deep into me, captivating me, grabbing hold of everything I had and then left me with needing more. I had to find out who he was, what he was about, and why did he have this power over me? I couldn’t like him, heck no he was the conservative with a businessman’s mentality. In a short couple of months I got to know him better. We would stay up till 4am in the morning just talking. I found out he acts like a tough guy but is the sweetest guy around. He was raised by 5 women, and obviously couldn’t escape respecting women for who they are. He was going to school, working at circuit city, owned nearfall entertainment, took it upon himself to look after his mom and his sister. Then in February of 2005, my grandma had taken a turn for the worst. She was at the hospital in a coma, with kidney problems, cancer, and so many other things. It was her time to go but like so many others in my family, I had a difficult time letting go. I was making a point not to say goodbye. Then one night (2/22/05) as I was leaving I leaned over gave her a kiss and said it…I said goodbye. I didn’t realize it till I was a few miles down the freeway getting gas. I broke down in tears. I couldn’t go home, not now. I called everyone on my list and for whatever reason no one answered. I then came to Matt’s number. I was avoiding calling him, mostly because I didn’t want him to see me in that state. I called him anyways and he said come on over. He talked to me on the way to his place and then met me outside the apartment. There he just hugged me in the rain/snow mix and the freezing cold. He didn’t say anything he just held me. Then he said come on lets go for a drive which we did. That night I talked to him and told him exactly how I felt about my grandma and everything I was dealing with at that point in time. I also told him about most of my past. As the night continued on, I suddenly was ok with the idea of my grandma passing on. That night as I was lying in my bed alone…I figured it out. Matt made me a better person. I know that sounds like a cliché but for real. Since I met him, I cared more about my school work, I stopped talking to all the other guys, I was spending more time at home, I wasn’t lying to my parents where I was or who I was with. I came home at decent hours, I was somehow becoming this woman I wanted to be. It was his eyes that captivated me, or was it his smile with the dimples and little crows feet that melted my heart? Which ever it was it was making me into this better person. Not only did I like him, but I loved him. It was almost as though god was telling me that this was the person he made for me, my match. My grandma passed that next day, and for some odd reason I think the night before was her last wish, her unfinished business. She wanted me to find a guy that I do DESERVE. Someone that would love me for me, treat me with respect, and love my family. A month later, After a hot pursuit of me chasing after him, Matt and I fell into a relationship.
Its going on a year now and it is still the best thing that has ever happened to me. We don’t fight and barely argue. We have long conversations usually once a week or so just to talk and work things out together as a team. We always tell each other how much we love one another and try not to put each other down, although sometimes by accident we do step on each others toes, and it hurts. We have grown together and became a team. I have learned to love myself inside and out. I love who I am and what I’m about and what I stand for. I have a family that loves me, a few good friends (I can count the number of true friends I have on one hand) but they are the best around, I have a fiancé (no longer a boyfriend) that loves me and supports me everyday. I have moved in with matt here in grand rapids and we have our own little family puppy and all. We don’t get jealous or worry about the other person cheating. We have the trust and communication that every relationship needs. We love each other and together we become better people.
Our life together isn’t a string of pearls. It doesn’t go good with everything and stay shiny forever. Matt and I are more like a couple of seashells. We look and act like ordinary people but if you look a little closer you can see the meaning behind it. To the world we may look like the average joe and jane but we are beautiful to each other. We have ridden on waves with our lives having its ups and downs. We are a little beaten and rough around the edges with the trials of life. We are like every other sea shell out there, but for some reason if you match us together you see a perfect fit, a match made in heaven. And if you listen really closely, a little closer, come on put it up to your ear…..at first it might sound like the ocean, the sound of every relationship, but if you listen a little closer and just tune in you hear the whispers of love

*I purposely did not include certain names. This article was not written to put others down. It was written to inform people what I have gone through, and perhaps they will relate in some way or find it somewhat helpful. But the main purpose is to get it out of myself, its good to just let everything go out there every once in awhile.

**I also promise you that everything written above is the 100% truth according to my memory and my feelings.
Previous post Next post
Up