Give Me Back My Girlhood, It Was Mine First

When I was in college, my first relationship was what I tend to think of as my introduction to domestic violence.

I Knew You Were Trouble

We’d begun dating about halfway through my freshman year, just a few months after I’d lost my virginity to a sexual assault at a frat party. I was in an incredibly vulnerable place: freshly traumatized, sexually inexperienced, and ripe for exploitation.

The manipulations and emotional abuse began almost immediately, followed soon after by more sexual trauma and threats of additional physical harm.

As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, victims of domestic violence are at a statistically higher risk of being revictimized in future relationships. Unfortunately, in my case, that statistic ended up being all too accurate.

Forever Winter

My best friend in the entire world came to visit me at college for a weekend that winter. I was nervous about introducing her to my partner, an angry, unmotivated boy who, aside from being constantly drunk or high, didn’t have much of a personality.

Looking back, I’m positive my hesitancy was because deep down I knew our relationship was toxic, this dude wasn’t shit, and she was going to see it immediately.

I implore you to listen to that gut feeling. Question why it exists and do your absolute best to respond honestly and compassionately. It’s trying to protect you.

On behalf of my best friend who’s steadfastly supported me as I’ve recovered from one dusty-ass abusive relationship after another, I should add: Listen to your best friend when they tell you they don’t like how you’re being treated by your partner.

Treacherous

As you can probably guess, the introduction didn’t go great. In the way abusers tend to be, he was extremely insecure and jealous of anyone he perceived as a threat to his control. He wanted me all to himself and was not hiding it well.

He went so far as to pick petty fights with her and then attempt to make me choose sides, leveraging my fear of what he’d do if I didn’t prove my loyalty. Although she obviously saw right through this, it put her in the awkward position of having to try to play nice with this asshole in order to prevent him from isolating me.

Getaway Car

I’d arranged to bring my friend to the holiday-themed date party at my partner’s fraternity that night. She and I spent all day catching up and getting glammed up in formal wear.

We hadn’t talked about how poorly the introduction had gone, but we’d been best friends long enough to know we’d address it on a different night. Tonight was about enjoying one another for the first time since our differing colleges had torn us from one another.

When we got to the party, we were both dreading going in. I was sure I’d have to spend the evening trying, and inevitably failing, to juggle the feelings of both my best friend and my partner.

State of Grace

As we were gearing up to leave the car and head inside, my friend turned on Taylor Swift’s recently released Red album to hype us up.

I’ve been a fan of Taylor’s since seeing her live at a free country concert series way back in 2007. She’s been breaking my heart and putting it back together ever since.

We decided to pop open a couple of the beers we’d brought and proceeded to get drunk in my car in the parking lot for over an hour, listening to the Red album in full and having the time of our lives.

I still get goosebumps at the vivid memory of screaming We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together at each other in my beat-up first car. I yelled my voice hoarse, the lyrics a battle cry I envisioned hurling at my toxic partner.

The Moment I Knew

Although I wasn’t ready to name it yet, I knew the situation I was in was dangerous and abusive. With my friend there to anchor me, I promised myself that one day in the near future would be the last time he mistreated me.

At that moment, singing in my car together, we were untouchable. This was holy ground, a shelter from judgment, abuse, and the casual cruelty of the world. A place I was safe to imagine the freedom of beginning again.

The Lucky One

After years of abuse at the hands of multiple partners, I’d like to be my old self again, but I’m still trying to find it. So much of my life and my being are different as a result of the violence I endured. One thing that hasn’t changed is the support of those who truly love me, including my best friend.

In a full-circle moment, today she and I managed to snag tickets to the second leg of the Eras tour. We’re almost too overwhelmed with excitement to really talk about how much it means to us, but the second we learned we’d secured the tickets, I pulled out my phone and wrote this article in one sitting.

Through all of the eras of our lives, Taylor Swift has been there to inspire, comfort, and show us that while life can be miserable, it’s also magical.

I’ve got a blank space, baby, and I’ll write YOUR name!

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Veronica Wren Trauma Recovery Book Club

I’m Glad My Mom Died — Jennette McCurdy

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