Before I begin to write, I want everyone to know that this is not a cry for pity, sympathy, or empathy. This is for other teens to know that they are not alone, and that there are ways you can get help, and that teen abuse is real, and shouldn’t be taken lightly.

What is Dating Abuse?

T.E.A.R defines dating abuse as:
“When one person uses a pattern of violent behavior through means of verbal, physical or sexual intimidation to gain power and control of their partner.”

            I was thirteen years old when I started to date Kyle**. He was one year older than me, a freshman in high school. I was an eighth grader in another school a few miles away. I met him at the local playground playing basketball on the court, down the road to my house. I never felt so alive, in the beginning. Compliments were abundant and fights were few. A month, closer to two, passed before things started to turn for the worse.

            The first specific event that made me realize something was wrong was when he basically broke up with me for the week that I was on vacation. Not only did he alienate himself for that whole week, the day I left and the day I came back, he refused to see me, claiming he “couldn’t bear missing me”.

            On several occasions I was left alone in places where I had no transportation home, but to walk. He ditched me in the middle of a mall, with no friends, and told me to come find him. I walked the mall for a good hour before I realized that he wasn’t at the mall at all, and that he had gone home. I had to hitch a ride from a girl I barely knew back to my house. Another time I was at the mall and we got into an argument, and he pushed me away and so I walked up crying to my good friend and my current boyfriend, (but best friend at the time.) They consoled me and dried my tears. When I tried to go back and talk to Kyle, he got enraged and in anger, slammed a door behind him, trapping my arm in the midst of it. I called his mother to come pick me up, and when she pulled up to the parking lot, as I went to get into the car, I was pulled back and told I wasn’t getting in, and that I had to walk home. Kyle’s mother ended up kicking him out of the car and telling HIM to walk home, in which I was blamed for later. I cried the whole way home.

            I was constantly called names, such as “slut”, and “whore”, and “shithead”. Some are too profane to be heard. He broke down my self esteem to absolutely nothing, and walked all over it. I was told that I wasn’t the reason for his anger, but because he grew up without a dad, he had pent up feelings that he ended up taking out on me. He always claimed he’d change. He was extremely jealous, and made me burn all the bridges I ever made, and he had something bad to say about everyone I loved. He used to lose his temper very quickly, and would stand me up, and never return my calls. Soon enough, I was blamed for his emotional state, and would blame me when he would mistreat me and lose his temper.

 Ex- “If you hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t have screamed at you.”

I used to pick and choose what I would say to him, just to hope I didn’t set off the ticking time bomb. He used to threaten to exploit me, and would make jokes that would demean, embarrass, and humiliate me in front of his friends.

            Only a few times had things gotten physical. Once or twice, he’d push me down, and a few times I’d get bruises and cuts from the way he’d rip me around, or grab me.

By the fourth month, I knew I needed to end this relationship.

I got help from family and friends, many of which had no clue that Kyle was abusing me physically, emotionally, and verbally this whole entire time. I began the detoxifying process that is separation. He did not approve of this at all. He began to harass me, constantly calling my cell phone, showing up at my house, breaking into my house when my parents weren’t home, crying outside my house, refusing to leave, having his mother come talk to my parents, always messaging me, and making multiple Instant Messaging accounts because I kept blocking all of them.

On one occasion, I went to the beach with two of my friends, both girls. He followed us down there, and watched us lay there for about twenty minutes. He then began to call my name, my cell phone, and walk over to me, trying to get me to “simply talk to him”, and to “have the decency to at least talk to him”. I refused, and he threw sand on my friends and me.  When I tried to tell him to go home, he pinned me against a tree, dislocating my wrists.

It has been six months since I separated myself from Kyle. I’ve begun dating my best friend, David, who has shown me what a healthy relationship is. By having communication, trust, respect, and forgiveness, I am happy and well today.

** Name changed for Privacy.