Kelsey

It was the summer of 2007; I survived the “fresh meat” phase of high school and was excited to start training for various activities. I was on the basketball team, volleyball team, dance team, and color guard. My summer was busy and consisted of a lot of sun and sweat but I loved every minute of it because I was working on my skills to become a better athlete for the upcoming school year. In the midst of developing my skills, I was sidetracked by my soon to be boyfriend. We started messaging on Myspace, which quickly led to text messages and phone calls. Shortly after, we were hanging out several times a week and before school started, we were a couple. Once school started, we spent recess together and weekends together; we were inseparable. I was eager to attend homecoming this year since I actually had a date. 

It was October and homecoming week was in full effect. The school theme that day was animal-themed. I decided to wear this leopard print dress that I received multiple compliments from my classmates. The activity for that day was a softball tournament against where each class (seniors, juniors, etc.) played each other. Like always, my boyfriend and I sat together away from our friends. Before the game started, a football player who I previously dated passed by and spoke to me. I spoke back and he went on with his business. In an instant, I felt my boyfriend’s mood change. He proceeded to put his arm around me as if he was marking his territory. As time went on, I felt his arm getting tight around my neck. I looked at him and told him he was choking me. At that moment, I didn’t even recognize the person that I thought I was dating. He loosened his arm, but it felt like his arm kept getting tight sporadically. I started to wonder if anyone in the crowd was watching what was going on. The last thing I wanted to be was at the center of gossip. The game finally ended, and we sat in the bleachers until the crowd cleared. As we were walking to our lockers to go home, he asked me why my ex spoke to me. I was confused by this question because it was a simple hello, but things started to make sense. That hello had more meaning behind than I thought. He responded and said he never wanted to speak to my ex again. To reinforce his statement, he pinned me against the lockers and choked me with his forearm. My body went into shock and I didn’t know how to react. A few more seconds passed, and I started to see black. At that moment, I thought someone in the office would see us on the monitor and come help me but the faculty was gone because school was over. He finally took his arm off my neck and walked off like nothing happened. I fell on the floor with tears rolling down my face. Once I had enough energy to stand, I fixed my dress and went to band practice. Before I entered the room, I tried to hide that I had been crying but that didn’t work. As soon as I sat in my seat, my best friend immediately asked what happened to me. Of course, my response was nothing even though my 17-year-old boyfriend just assaulted me in the hallway. When practice was over, I checked my phone and had multiple missed calls and messages from my boyfriend apologizing. I ignored him for the rest of the day. I also didn’t have the energy to deal with this situation because I was dealing with a severe illness. Today, I know that this headache resulted from the lack of oxygen that was flowing to my brain while I was being choked. The next day, I had to face my boyfriend, but I avoided him at all costs. He called me after school and apologized and promised this would never happen again. In the back of my mind, I knew that wasn’t true, but I accepted his apology. He then asked if he could still take me to homecoming. On Saturday night, we took pictures, danced, and laughed like nothing ever happened.

As time went on, the relationship seemed normal and I hadn’t seen the other side of my boyfriend since homecoming. Even though he wasn’t being abusive, I noticed how he became possessive and manipulative. It was the beginning of 2008 and he started questioning about sexual activity. I immediately shut the conversation down on various occasions because that was something, I wasn’t ready for. He completely disregarded my feelings and thoughts about this topic and continued to pressure me. To persuade me, he said if I loved him I would do it. My answer was still no because I still didn’t have a clear understanding of what love was at 17. When that did work, he threatened to sleep with girls who were willing to sleep with him. The last thing I want to be was the girl whose boyfriend cheated on her every chance he got so I gave in. His bright idea was to try on Valentine’s day. This was by far the worst experience in life thus far and I begged him to stop and take me home. Instead of checking to make sure I was alright, he only wanted to know when we could try again since the first time didn’t go as planned. Of course, I gave in eventually because I was being pressured. Aside from his abusive tendencies, I also hid that I was sexually active from my parents.

I believe our relationship took a turn for the worst when we started working together at Wendy's. I thought I was doing something good since I helped him get a job, I could also ride to and from work instead of finding a ride a few days out the week. Then I realized this was the biggest mistake. Not only was he monitoring me at school, on bus rides to basketball games, watching from the sideline of the football field, and now he could watch me at work. We were scheduled to work a Saturday shift together for the first time since he started. My coworkers and I were talking to each other while it was slow and once things picked up, we got back to work. After the rush, my boyfriend walked up to me and said he didn’t want me talking to anyone. In my mind, I'm thinking about how I am supposed to do my job if I can’t communicate with anyone. I assumed he was talking about small talk since there were guys amongst the group. I was on the sandwich line that day which meant I had to verify orders. While doing just that, my boyfriend walked up to and chastised me like a child and reiterated that he didn’t want me talking to anyone about anything. This was very humiliating, and everyone heard him, but nobody said anything. There were plenty of words passed between us on almost every shift due to his jealous tendencies. One night, he was upset per usual and wanted to argue while at work and I refused to do so because that was unprofessional. I was washing dishes and to get my attention, he wet me with water. Even though my shirt was soaked, I didn’t react because that would only add fuel to the fire. He then grabbed me by my shirt and started choking me. I forced him off of me and continued with what I was doing. The last task on my list was to clean the women's restroom. I filled up the mop bucket with water and headed to the restroom. After a few minutes, he entered the restroom, hymned against the wall and started yelling hateful things at me. Once he let me go, he picked up the mop bucket and dumped the water on me. Now I was drenched from hair down to my socks. I felt completely degraded and helpless. I attempted to call my mom to come to pick me up but then I realized I would have to explain what I had been hiding for months so waited for the manager to finish so we could leave. When we got to my house, he told me he was sorry once again. He proceeded to kiss me to smooth things over. Instead of letting my mom know what I just experienced, I went straight to my room, grab some clothes to take a shower then went to bed. This was the new normal that I just accepted because I didn’t have the courage to tell someone.

Not only did I have to with his abusive behavior, but the psychological abuse started to get overbearing. I couldn’t hang out with my friends, if I did, I was watched like a hawk to make sure I didn’t talk to any guys. Any sudden move that I made was taken out of context, so I was constantly walking on eggshells around him. It was homecoming season once again and I really wasn’t that excited to attend with my boyfriend. At the beginning of the week, my boyfriend had the audacity to ask me if he could bring his friend to homecoming. I immediately said no, and he tried to convince me that they were just friends and she needed someone to get her into the dance. This was all a lie and it was baffling that he tried to justify his reasoning. It was Friday and he kept asking me to bring this girl to homecoming. I got tired of saying no, so I ignored him for the rest of the day and Saturday. When I got to homecoming, my friends notified me that he showed up with the girl. They asked if we had broken up, who was this girl, etc. I didn’t know how to feel but I was tired of being treated this way. On Monday, I could feel people whispering about me as I walked down the hall. This was a prime example of what I thought it would be like if I reported what was really going on. Later that day, my boyfriend actually laughed in my face while attempting to explain himself from Saturday night. There was nothing to explain and I had no desire to listen to his lies. We went a few weeks without talking and then we were back to our regular routine. By regular, I’m referring to his controlling, abusive, manipulative behavior. 

Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, I witnessed a new level to his madness. One Saturday, I was at his house for the majority of the day. We ate, watched a movie and I eventually fell asleep. When I woke up, he was in one of his moods. There was no need for me to try to figure out what he was mad about because most of the time he didn’t even have a reason. I got up and sat on the side of the bed just to be prepared for whatever was about to transpire. As I sat beside him, he poked me in my stomach as if he was playing. Those pokes started to get forceful and before I knew it, he was jabbing me in my abdomen like a boxer warming up for his match. I begged for him to stop. He said that the punches would get worse if I didn’t keep still. I laid on the floor in a fetal position waiting for this to be over, but it seemed as though that wasn’t going to happen. Out of desperation, I started yelling for help hoping his parents would hear me and rescue me. He immediately covered my mouth to stop me from yelling. Once he uncovered my mouth, I begged for him to take me home. It was after midnight when we left his house. The pain that I felt when I sat in the car was unbearable. I put my seat and kept saying to myself, “I’ll be home shortly”. He backed out the driveway and entered onto a dark curvy road. He started asking questions that I didn’t feel like answering. I just wanted to make it home. When he realized that I wasn’t answering his questions he proceeded to ask, “You plan on breaking up with him?”. Tears started to roll down my face like a river. Deep down I wanted to say yes, but in my mind, I felt like I couldn’t escape him. He asked the same question again. When I didn’t respond, he mashed the gas pedal to the floor and said he was going to kill me. As we’re flying down this dark curvy road, I thought about how my family wouldn’t have a clue on what was really going on that resulted in my death. The speedometer had reached 100 mph and I yelled “no”. We came up on a stop sign and he finally slowed down. I was on the verge of having a panic attack. When I got to my house, I stood outside for a few minutes to gather myself. I wanted to make sure I looked perfectly fine even though I almost died. My mom was sitting on the sofa watching tv when I entered the house. I spoke to her, avoided eye contact, and ran to my room. I grabbed my pajamas to take a shower and headed to the bathroom. When I entered the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror and didn’t recognize the reflection. As I was getting undressed to get in the shower, I noticed my underwear was covered in blood as a result of forceful punches to my abdomen. I was in disbelief that this was my reality and not one person knew what I was going through. I stood in the shower, crying my eyes out because I felt helpless, unworthy, and weak for allowing someone to treat me in this manner. I knew that this was wrong, but I was also too embarrassed to ask for help. The next day, he acted like nothing ever happened while I was in my bed traumatized.

I thought I built up enough courage to leave him and one day I started the conversation of separation. He began to plead that he was sorry, and he wanted to change. I knew that this was all a lie. He asked if he could take me to prom to make up for homecoming but none of that stuff mattered to me. Once he realized I wasn’t changing my answer, he said he was going to commit suicide. This was another tactic to keep me around. Of course, I tried to talk him out of doing such a thing, but he hung up the phone and wouldn’t answer my calls. I didn’t sleep that night because I didn’t know what news I was going to wake up to. The next morning, he had the audacity to text me good morning like he did just claim to commit suicide. Like everything else, I let it go and stayed in the relationship. We attended prom like the “happy” couple we pretended to be.

It was the summer of 2009 and he just graduated while I was preparing for my senior year. My summer consisted of practices and dance camps. It was the week of dance camp and I was short $20. I tried my hardest to cover fees for extracurricular activities since my mom was a single parent with three children. Instead of asking my mom for more money, I asked my boyfriend. His initial response was yes. Then he asked what I needed it for and when I said it was for dance camp, he changed his mind. He said he didn’t want me going to dance camp because he didn’t know who was going to be there i.e. he could spy on me or control who I was talking to. So, we passed words for a few minutes, and then I realized this was the last straw. I endured various forms of abuse from him and financial abuse wasn’t something I was willing to accept. I realized I no longer had to see him at school or work because he was leaving for college, so this was a good time to end things. I told him we were over and to not contact me ever again. I ended up asking my best friend for the money so I could attend camp. While I was at camp, I was excited to be there, but I was also trying to mask the trauma that I had been dealing with for a year. I felt like a burden was lifted off my shoulders, but I also didn’t know how to function without my abusive ex-boyfriend.

During my senior year in high school, I was extremely depressed. I finally realized it when I was rewarded with a trip to Madrid, Spain for dancing. While I was there, I enjoyed myself but I wasn’t able to take in the experience because my mind was clouded with so much trauma. I graduated high school 13th in my class then went to Xavier University to pursue premed. I attended Xavier for one semester then transferred to UL. During my first year, I did well academically. Spring of 2012 took a turn for the worst. I broke up with my second boyfriend which caused me to spiral out of control and become severely depressed. While battling depression, I was unable to focus on my academics. I finished the semester with a 1.3 GPA and I was put on academic probation. This only added fuel to the fire. Not only was I depressed but I felt like a complete failure. At that point, I started to question the purpose of my living. I had been suffering in silence for so long and it seemed like nobody noticed. I started to contemplate suicide because I didn’t know where to go or who to ask for help and I was tired of feeling this way. Then God sent an angel to rescue me. I started volunteering to help start this women organization on campus where I met my soon to be mentor. This woman walked into the room and owned it. I thought to myself, I want to be like that one day. The confidence in her walk, the ownership of her character and her powerful words had me tuned in. For the first event we held on campus, she spoke. After hearing her speech, I knew it was time for me to get myself together. I had to own my past, not be ashamed of what someone else did, learn how to forgive, and start a new chapter in my life. This was something that was going to take time but I was willing to put in the work because I wanted to experience joy in my life again. During October, in honor of domestic violence awareness month, the group volunteered for Faith House. I had never heard of this organization let alone domestic violence awareness month prior to this. Volunteering with Faith House assured me that there was help for what I had experienced. I wished I would have known sooner to have a different outcome but I was grateful to have this knowledge to pass to someone else in need. At the end of October, I felt uneasy volunteering for Faith House and remembering/honoring survivors when I was a secret survivor myself. To remove this weight off my shoulders, I decided to tell my mentor. I felt comfortable discussing this topic with her because she was a previous employee at the shelter so she would understand the situation and not judge me. After having this discussion, I felt the weight lift off my shoulders. A couple days later, my mentor asked if I was comfortable sharing my story for our next event. My first thought was to say no because I was terrified of public speaking but also, I was afraid of judgment. I thought about it for a few days and decided to do it. Sharing my story in a room full of strangers was nerve-racking but therapeutic at the same time. I was able to share what I had been hiding for the last four years. After my speech, the feedback was great and at that moment, I realized my voice had a purpose. While I was in my abusive relationship, I questioned “Why me?” But fast forward four years, I saw why. To this day, domestic violence still isn’t getting the proper attention it deserves. However, I am committed to using my voice to speak for those who can’t speak up for themselves in order to see changes in my community and beyond.