It soon progressed to name-calling, insults, unfounded accusations, degradation, humiliation, and isolation.The first step in domestic violence is to charm the victim; the second is to isolate the victim. I began believing I deserved the abuse, and thought everybody else believed I was who he said I was.By: JM Oran A tender smile crosses Kimberly Segovia’s face when she checks her smartphone and notices a text message from her fiancé.
One winter day during my junior year, I found out that he had cheated on me again. He became enraged as I walked away to my class but he didn't follow me. In that moment, I had two choices: I could either sit there and continue to be belittled in front of everyone because he wasn't going to leave, and nobody else was going to say or do anything, or I could walk out and be shamed anyway because I had given into his threats. As we walked down the hall, he spit in my face, pulled my necklace off my neck, threw it in the trashcan and he threw me up against the lockers. Mine is a story of emotional, psychological, and physical abuse.
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.
I never imagined such shame and at 15 years old, understood it even less. It was those incidents that left long-lasting emotional scars. My story begins at the age of 14 and continues off and on until I was 22.
The signs weren't obvious, especially to a 14 year-old, but it began with him telling me he didn't like the shirts I wore, or that my skirt was too short; at the time, it was easy to mistake jealousy and control for adoration.
She didn't ask questions she wasn't sure Josh wanted to answer, or make plans with friends before checking with him first.
"I thought a fight wasn't worth it," she says.The hell became so familiar that it was easier to stay rather than leave.It was easier to live with the shame and guilt in secrecy.Abuse in relationships was not a topic of conversation because it did not need to be.I had a large close-knit group of girlfriends, I am close to my parents, brother, sister, aunts, uncles, and cousins.It was easier to stay and suffer in private than to try to leave and be humiliated in public.