Before I tell you my story, I just wanted to say thank you for taking the time to read this. It means a lot to me, truly.
Although I've never really had a problem talking about my experience, I've always struggled to tell people exactly what it is I went through in detail. I felt like… completely opening up would leave me vulnerable in some way.
But here it goes.
I met Matt (I'll leave out his full name) during the fall of 2009 when I was only 18. I was fresh out of high school, and honestly was only looking for fun. I had no intentions of getting into a serious relationship, especially because of a breakup I had gone through 3 months prior.
He was a sweetheart. He had deep brown eyes, a contagious smile. He had a good job, too. But I remember what drew me to Matt the most was his sense of humor. He made me laugh, and I just couldn't bring myself to ignore that.
As hard as I tried not to, it was in no time at all that I found myself falling for him.
Right off the bat, there were a few issues that I just let slip past me, that I wish I would've considered before diving head first into a relationship with this man.
The first thing was his age. Matt was 16 years older than me. Yeah. You read that right. 16. He was in the process of going through a divorce and even had 2 children. These were HUGE issues with me in the beginning. I was honestly grossed out by the age gap, and the idea of being a step mom… I just wasn't ready for it at the time.
But something about him, and the way he viewed me, I just couldn't ignore it. He viewed me as a GODDESS. This man would basically kiss the ground I walked on. And now, looking back… that should've been a big red flag that he thought so highly of me so quickly.
But I didn't see it.
Maybe it was the fact that from the age of 9 until the day I became a legal adult, I had gone through foster care and was in and out of Missouri state custody. Maybe it was the abuse I encountered as a child. It makes me feel pathetic for admitting this... but I was desperate. For love, for affection. I was desperate for something steady in my life. And within no time at all, I honestly thought that this man was the answer to all my problems and prayers.
After his divorce was finalized, he asked me to come with him 600 miles away from home to Minnesota. I didn't want to leave my home behind… but I had fallen in love with him. And you'd do anything for the person you love, right?
What I didn't realize was that by moving away from home with him… away from any friends or family, away from anything and everything I knew… was that I had just fallen into phase 1 of his plan.
I didn't realize at the time that I was the perfect target. Vulnerable with a troubled past. Young. Dumb. Desperate. I was like a big, gleaming bullseye. And I had no idea until it was too late.
The first thing he showed me when we were unpacking some of my boxes was a gun he had. He was so excited to take me shooting with him. That's what he told me.
What he didn't mention was that even though at this point he had never laid a hand on me, the threat of violence was placed right out in the open. He had let me know that day that he owned a gun, and that, even though we were in the honeymoon phase, and he had never even raised his voice at me, let alone a hand, that I was in danger.
I just… didn't see it at the time.
Over the next year, all contact with my family had been cut off. He didn't like how long I stayed on the phone with them. It was taking away from our time together. We got into fights over it. He made me feel so bad about it that one day, I just began ignoring the calls. Until they eventually just… stopped calling.
He was happy again.
And that's when phase 1 was complete. Isolation. He had moved me away from home, and eventually, any ties I had with the outside world… were gone. I was all his, since he was now the only person I had. And that's exactly how he wanted it.
He sat me down one night to "open up to me" about a kid he was convinced he might've actually killed in high school. He beat up a boy because he was gay, and the thought of what he did was just eating him alive. He couldn't live with the guilt. But I… I distracted him from that pain. And that's why he needed me.
So he said.
I met his ex wife for the first time in person only a few days later. Within a few minutes of talking, she started warning me about him and his "temper". Another red flag that I ignored. He had convinced me that she was this crazy psycho bitch who liked to make up stories about people. She liked to make others look like the bad guy for no reason at all. That's what he told me. And I had no reason then not to believe him. He loved me, so he wouldn't lie to me. Right?
Slowly, like in every long term relationship, the honeymoon phase fizzled out. We began having little arguments about trivial things. And with the small arguments came phase 2. It started with little talks of me being "crazy". I was the reason we kept fighting. If I wouldn't act so irrationally, we wouldn't argue so much. I started to believe him… maybe I was crazy. Maybe I was the reason we fought all the time. I tried to change, but it seemed like I only made it worse. It wasn't until I got out that I realized that I was never going to win that battle. I was never to blame, yet no matter what I did to fix it, it would never be enough. It was a losing battle.
It wasn't long after that that the insults started. I was fat. Annoying. Stupid. I was a dumb bitch. Etc. He even went as far as to tell me that I deserved everything I had gone through in my childhood. (If you haven't had the chance to read it yet, I made a post about my abusive childhood that you'll find in my blog).
About 2 ½ to 3 years into our 8 year relationship I was introduced to phase 3, violence and the cycle of abuse, when he choked me for the very first time.
I had learned that Matt was addicted to pain killers. He would take them all. Perks. Vicodin. Oxys. You name it, he took it. I found a bottle of all his different pills and confronted him about it. He was sitting on our bed, I was standing by our bedroom door. I told him I was going to flush them, and that he was better than this. We fought for about an hour about these pills when I decided I was done fighting and headed to the toilet. As I turned to head out to the hallway towards the bathroom, he tackled me to the ground and dragged me back into our room. He pulled the bottle out of my hands, threw them behind himself, and wrapped his hands around my neck for the first time. I remember slapping at his arms and shoulders. I could've hit him in the face, but even though he was choking me, I remember not wanting to hurt him. As I tried to get him off me, I let out a raspy whisper. "Why?" I asked...
…and everything went black.
I came back to a few moments later. Matt was gone. My throat hurt. My neck was throbbing with pain. I couldn't speak. I just curled up on the floor and cried. I was in shock. Why did he choke me? Why did the man who is so in love with me, and who thinks so highly of me, just choke me? I couldn't make heads or tails of it. As I lay there, sobbing, Matt had made his way back into the hallway. He laid down with me and held me, crying into my neck. He apologized, over...and over…and over again. He made promises to never hurt me again. That he was just stressed out. He loved me more than anything, and this was just an accident. I believed him, and I forgave him. I thought to myself "this will never happen again. He means what he says."
For a few days after that, it was as if the attack never happened. Everything was great. We would cuddle up to one another on the couch watching movies. We would laugh and smile together. Everything was the way it had been in the beginning. But about a week later, we got into another argument, and I recieved my first black eye.
After about 3 months of these attacks, I began documenting them. What I'm about to share with you is very personal, and very real. These are some of the worst of the worst documented attacks from a photo gallery I had kept hidden on my phone.
(These are in no particular order)
after being choked one night
I was stabbed in the face with a shard of glass. It went ½ an inch deep into my lower cheek.
about 30 minutes after the incident
a short video showing the cut
In this next video, Matt had hurt himself after he attacked me. He messed up something in his knee to where he could barely walk. Even after the attack I insisted on taking him to the hospital, but my clothes were torn and covered in blood so I needed to change. You'll hear him yell "give me my keys" over and over again, though I never had them to begin with. And even if I did, he was in no condition to drive. You can see the light fixture above the table is busted. He had thrown something at me and missed, hitting that and shattering it. He was upstairs smashing everything I owned. He ripped up all of my family photos, he smashed any family heirlooms I had, it was all destroyed. This is what it sounded like for me, every day, for years. Just screaming, threats, broken objects, and sobbing.
the pictures of my stuff broken and destroyed, after the video was taken
a picture to better show the broken light fixture
One night, he whipped me across the back with his phone charger.
you can see the form of the charger perfectly. There's a slight scar from it on my back to this day.
On one occasion, Matt literally attempted to claw my eye out.
a few moments after the attack
3 days later
For about 3 years, almost every single day, Matt would hit me in the legs with metal pipes, blocks of wood, etc. It caused permanent damage that makes it difficult for me to walk or stand for long periods of time.
various leg damage photos
knee cap. He had hit me with a plank of wood with a nail in it
This next photo shows the aftermath of him smashing a 6ft floor lamp across my arm. The bandaids are covering various gashes from the lamps glass dome shattering and piercing my skin.
One afternoon he kicked me directly in the mouth.
And the rest, they're pictures of various bruises I received over the years.
Throughout the years, I also had lighter fluid and nail polish remover poured all over me, I was locked outside in nothing but a t-shirt and shorts in -12°F weather, and I had a gun held to my head. But as I mentioned earlier, these are just a handful of incidents.
I also discovered that somewhere in our relationship, Matt switched out painkillers for methamphetamine.
For years, I believed that Matt was just some troubled soul, and that I was the only one who could help him. It wasn't until the night he put a gun to my head that I realized just how dangerous this was, and how desperately I needed to get out.
Luckily, after a long 8 year "relationship", I got away. It wasn't easy, and things didn't end there. He stalked me for months. He found out where I was staying when I was still living in the same state as he was and would break in constantly. After I moved to Oregon, he found out my new address and phone number. He found out where I worked too. He called my manager once pretending to be my little brother, claiming our mom was in the hospital after a horrible accident. He even came to Oregon one weekend to find me, but I hid out and never saw him. He emailed me from over 15 different fake email addresses. He made 7 fake facebook accounts. He stalked my family. The list goes on and on. I filed a restraining order on him, which was a nightmare in itself because they didn't understand why I needed one if he was living all the way in Minnesota. I had to fight like hell to get it, but finally did.
You see, if anyone had told me that I would find myself in an abusive relationship, I would've laughed in their face. There's no way that I, the girl who had already spent the first half of her life in an abusive upbringing, would allow myself to be with a man who would dare lay a finger on me. But that's the crazy thing about abusive relationships and domestic violence.
Ask yourself this. Whats the number 1 question people ask when women find themselves in this situation?
Why would she stay?
Why would she continue a relationship with someone who's physically beating her?
As crazy as this sounds, I had no idea I was being abused. I thought I was just tolerating the effects of being with a man in pain. I was in complete denial. Again, if anyone were to tell me that I was going to find myself in this situation, I would've thought they were crazy. But statistically, according to NCADV (National Coalition Against Domestic Violence) women between the ages of 18-24 are most commonly abused by an intimate partner. At that age, we're perfect targets. We don't know any better. It's easy to trap young women into the cycle of abuse.
The cycle of abuse is a 4-step cycle, as depicted in this picture.
•Tentions building
•Incident
•Reconciliation
•Calm
Once it begins, it WILL NOT end until the one being abused either leaves, or gets killed.
I'm now with the most incredible, most caring, most kind and loving man I've ever met. Bryan and his entire family have been so amazing to me, and have each helped me in ways I can't even explain.
Bryan and I
After I met Bryan, I realized that the "love" I thought I once had for Matt was nothing but a facade. I was blinded by desperation. I was in love with the idea of love, but I never truly loved Matt. Bryan, and his family, have helped bring me back to life. They've helped heal parts of me that I didn't even realize were broken. And yeah, I still suffer from PTSD and anxiety because of my experience, but I'm learning to love, and trust, every single day. I've learned to accept what happened, and to make sure it never will again. Because of Matt, I learned to be cautious and I learned how to fear, and because of Bryan, I learned how to love and trust others, and how to love myself again.
I got out. You can too. If you or anyone you know is in an abusive relationship, please seek help. Come talk to me and I'll be happy to point you in the right direction. Just please don't keep it to yourself. The longer you stay, the more dangerous it becomes. Get out while you still can.
Break the silence.
Discord: AlaynaClair
The National Domestic Violence Hotline: +18007997233
http://www.thehotline.org
part 1 can be found on my blog. Thank you for listening to my story
-Alayna