For all of those times he said I was ugly and worthless, I have made it my mission.
For all of those times he called me a tramp and a whore, I have made it my mission.
Although I had been stripped of all remnants of self-worth, I found an ounce of esteem that told me I deserved better.
I ended up in the hospital a few times and was put in counseling but I never spoke about the abuse. Nobody knew about the many deliberate close call, head-on collisions while he was threatening to "kill us both." Finally, after almost eight years of abuse, I knew I had to leave. I knew that if I continued on this path, I might never see the light through the darkness. I knew if I didn't leave I could fall back into the cycle.
It was easier to live with the shame and guilt in secrecy.
It was easier to stay and suffer in private than to try to leave and be humiliated in public.
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Jesus was a friend to all types of people, even those with loose morals, wasn’t he?
After class had begun, I heard the door swing open, which was at the front of the classroom. He stayed at the door and looked toward the teacher and said to him in front of the whole class, "I need to speak to that fucking whore right there." He pointed at me, then he turned to me and said, "Bitch, get your fucking stupid ass out here now." Everybody turned and looked at me in shock but nobody said a word. It didn't begin immediately, in fact, there weren't any signs until we had been dating for almost a year.