My story began in Germany at the tender age of 15, barely old enough to know my right hand from my left, he was 27 a FULL grown man. Some of you now may frown, some of you may form your opinions right after this without knowing anything at all. Thinking back on this hellish day when we first met, I was flattered, thought I was the ish because a “grown man” was interested in me. NOW I know better, I was the victim of strategic manipulation and control, carefully sought out to “raise” me into whom he thought I should be. He was prowling whom he could seek to kill, steal and destroy, he robbed me of EVERYTHING, that teenage years are suppose to be and then some!
He seduced and charmed a girl who had Daddy issues, a girl that never had a sense of belonging, since I was raised by my Foster mother being told that my birth-mother threw me away, just left me to die by myself in a Laundromat. She abandoned me because I was not wanted. And that story in itself had a negative impact on my life as I grew up, and catching a lot of negative slack from strangers even because of it.
So here he was, tall, dark skinned, built like a brick house, charming, never pressured me into doing anything, someone who seemed to “cherish” me, someone I could share my dreams with, hold intelligible conversations with, someone I could “escape” with.
We dated for about four months, it was seemingly perfect, then the unthinkable happened. We were watching a movie, his roommate was there, us on one side of the room, him on the other. All of a sudden out of nowhere he started yelling explicits, I was bewildered, but before I could ask anything he starting wailing on me with his balled up fists, punching me left and right, upside my head...I could hear ringing inside my head, my body got hot and then I remember nothing else. I passed out from him choking me. As I started to regain consciousness I heard voices and felt a cold rag on my forehead, I was dizzy, scared, I felt betrayed, I was confused, I felt vulnerable. I didn’t know what happened. I couldn’t cry because my head was hurting so bad and I knew it would make it hurt more. It was as if I was in a trance, and the perpetrator...well he catered to me, and expressed how sorry he was, he didn’t mean for this to happen, he had a bad day and he thought he saw his roommate looking at me which to him meant I must have given the roommate reason to look. I just wanted to go home, I couldn’t believe what I heard, I just couldn’t wrap my head around that, at all.
And whom could I tell? There was noone, not a soul that I could tell, he was a black man in a country filled with hatred toward a biracial couple. Surely I couldn’t tell my mom who drilled me almost daily on how violent African Americans were, how they couldn’t be trusted, how they are different, she’d find every newspaper article to “prove” to me to stay away from them. So if I now confided in her, I’d just add fuel to the fire and provide her the material she’s been seeking all this time. I was just gonna cry it out and leave him, I’ve seen instances of verbal abuse between my Mom and Dad (Foster parents) but no REAL physical altercations, so this was new to me.
He drove me home, he begged and pleaded with me, he even started crying saying he felt so bad, he never should have taken his bad day out on me, by the time the ride was over, I, the victim, felt bad for him. I told him I forgave him, hugged and kissed and went into my home. My mom wasn’t home, she was a Nurse, so she worked a lot. I cried and cried until I think I had no more tears left. He kept calling the house-phone apologizing profusely over and over. I stayed home the entire weekend, recovering from an aching body and a skull that hurt no matter how I laid on a pillow. I stayed in my room to hide any bruising from my mom and wore make-up and a turtle neck shirt. I didn’t want to see him again.
Monday I went to school, after school, he was there, with flowers and my favorite chocolates and asked me to go to my favorite restaurant. I was scared, scared to say no and scared to say yes. But I was more scared to say no, so we had lunch and talked and everything was “fine” he assured me it was isolated and that’s not him at all and it would never happen again. I wanted to believe him and I did. A short while later he asked me to have his baby, WOW I thought, I could have my own family and live happily ever after, I could have a baby to call my own and love that child the way I never felt loved, unconditionally I thought. BUT I was on birth control, so I asked a friend of mine who was older and already had children how long it took her to conceive after she stopped taking birth control. She told me it took her 2 almost 3 years. I thought I was in the money, I’ll stop taking it now and by the time I graduate High-school I’ll have a baby. Nothing could have been further from the truth, I stopped taking contraceptives and within two MONTHS I was pregnant. I was devastated, what happened to the 2-3 years, yeah go figures all that education we received in High school and I believed that mess. He was ecstatic, I guess he really wanted it, well that was a relieve. Now how do I break the news to my mom, one that I’m carrying a n**** child in her eyes, two how would I prevent her from pressing charges against him.
There was one teacher at my school, I will never forget that lady, she always took a stand for humanity, no matter what ethnic, religious or whatever other background someone had. I confided in her about my pregnancy. So they “lured” my mom to school under the pretense that they needed to speak to her in regards to me. I was a good student so my mom was furious that she had to go to school and kept wanting to know why. The day she came I was in class, when they called me to her, she was crying, and she made it clear she wanted me to abort the baby because the child would never be accepted in society and I’m ruining all chances I had to marry a good white man. The teacher and Principal softened the blow a little and she would have to learn to live with the fact that I was pregnant at such a young age AND pregnant by a grown man other than the race she preferred.
He went back to America, got out of the Military and came back as a Civilian. We moved together, he worked as an Electrician for a German company, and I finished High school and lived happily ever after UNTIL one day he had a REALLY bad day at work. I was busy with homework that day and got started late with dinner, so when he came home, dinner wasn’t ready. Dinner was to be ready at 6 o’clock. He started throwing a tantrum and all fear set in. Before I knew it, he went upside my head and hit me with his balled up fist in my upper and lower back, the blows just kept coming, I screamed, and pleaded for him to stop, I kept yelling I’m pregnant, my baby, I was scared I’d lose my baby, I kept trying to protect my stomach, until he finally did stop. I was sitting crunched up in a ball on the kitchen floor, crying inconsolably, my mind racing at over 100 miles per hour, about what am I gonna do now, I’m pregnant, NOW I REALLY can’t tell my mom.
Of course he apologized again, he was sorry, he was on his knees, the pressures of working with these German pricks had just gotten to him, they called him a N*** all day at work instead of by his name, this then of course infuriated me, that he received such treatment by such racist bastards, the next day I called his boss and told him he better get his workers in check that it’s unacceptable to call someone other than their name, and how would he like it if someone called him something other than his name. His boss seemed forthcoming and said he would address the matter. I was not going to stand for any mistreatment, and yet he just mistreated me, again here I am the victim, feeling bad for him.
What you must understand about the Abuser, they are VERY manipulative, and know EXACTLY what they have done and what they must say to make you feel bad for them and just forget about the injustice you just experienced by their vicious hands. After this he explained that it was very important for him that dinner was ready at exactly 6 pm, and not any later than that. Of course I wanted to please him, keep him happy, so of course I obliged and from then on for the most part, it was ready at 6 pm exactly...and on days that it wasn’t well you can just imagine what happened then.
Months passed by, I had our son, I was so happy I could pee a rainbow. He was finally here, my son, whom I could love and adore. It took some adjustment, to handle school, homework, housework, “wife-work” AND baby duties, so on days I couldn’t we argued and he got violent. One of these days he took it to another level though, this time he cut me, twice, both on my left arm with a knife, I still have visible scars to this day. He took me to the hospital so I could get stitches, my oldest son was still an infant, and in all his nervousness he dropped my precious baby, it was an accident but my son wouldn’t stop crying and I couldn’t console him because my arm was bleeding everywhere, which made my ex more aggravated, saying if I’d have had my sh** in order we wouldn’t have had to go through this, everything was ALWAYS my fault. The doctor of course wanted to know what happened, my ex husband knew how to speak German so he communicated with the doctor while I said nothing, he explained that I was on a ladder trying to hang a picture and I fell into a glass table, the doctor looked up at me and said “must have been a dark table, besides I see no glass in your wounds” my ex chimed in saying he already washed out the glass he didn’t want it to get infected, I just nodded agreeing this is what happened. I mean if I were to say something, where would I go, I couldn’t go live with my mom, I didn’t have a job to take care of a baby, I was stuck, 16 years old with nowhere to go but back to hell.
I love you all for CHRISTS sake Sister J.
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