Blooming through the fire

Being eighteen at the time didn’t mean that I had the knowledge of what to do. It was just something to please him, not me, because I felt no pleasure at all. In the times where I didn’t want to do it and I told him no, I still felt like I had to. He would say things that made me feel like that was the only option. I had the love of my aunt and my cousins but I guess that feeling the love of a man was much better. As much as I felt something wasn’t right and as much as I was emotionally disconnected, I would still lay there as he penetrated me. Well, we ended up breaking up. Although my self-esteem and confidence were very low at the time, one thing I did know was that a man was not to put his hands on a woman. And one day he had the slightest of intentions to do so. That’s when I realized the rage and anger that lingered in me. That night after getting the slightest hit from him I ran into the kitchen, grabbed a knife and headed back to the room and asked, “Did you just hit me?’’ I could see the fright and surprised look on his face, He couldn’t speak, yet managed to say my name. “I said did you just hit me?” He tried coming towards me, and he grabbed my hand that held the knife. “Gloria, please I didn’t hit you.” “So what did you do then?” The next thing I knew he ran out the room door. as I ran behind him with the knife, he managed to go back into the room and locked the door with me on the outside of it. “I will call the police,” he said. “Oh really, that will be good,” I replied, “so you can go to jail for hitting me and I’ll tell them it’s self-defense so I grabbed the closest weapon I could.” I opened the door with the knife while saying, “No man ever will put their hands on me and go free. Now did you just hit me?” He said, “I’m sorry Gloria, I’m sorry, it was a mistake.” As I watched him, visibly afraid, my rage slowly disappeared. He grabbed my hands once more trying to pull the knife down. When I pulled away the knife I left a dime-sized cut in his palm. “Sorry, that was a mistake, but seriously never put your hands on a woman!” It was a crazy night, but that’s not why we broke up. I later found out that he was cheating on me by telling another female that I was his cousin and telling me that she was his cousin.At this point of my life, at age eighteen, I was about to graduate from high school. I was completely drained with all the other things that were going on in my life, I decided to stay to myself. But I guess the Universe, my decision-making skills or my heart had not had enough, and thus it led me to my third encounter. The house phone rang over and over for about three days, and when it was finally picked up on the other line it was the same brother’s mother. She spoke to my aunt that day asking her to come to a wedding with her. Now over the years my aunt and I had grown closer, and she saw me as her big daughter. She was the mother figure in my life. She asked me to come with her to the wedding and I agreed because we were always the spotlight at any event we attended. Although she didn’t go out too much, she had a classy side, she was very confident and for that I am so grateful. A couple days before the wedding, she started feeling pain in her legs so she wasn’t able to make it. Since she had already promised her friend, she asked me if I could still go. I asked if her older son was going to be there, and she said maybe. I was hoping that he wasn’t so I was kind of hesitant to go. But because I had already promised my aunt, I went anyway. I went and dressed beautifully. The whole time I sat with their mom. I honestly don’t think she knew about her sons and I, or if she did she really played it off well. When the wedding was almost over I saw him, the oldest brother. We spoke once or twice. He was with another girl that night but it didn’t really bother me. The party was almost over and it was getting late. I decided to leave, but before I could, there stood before me my third encounter. I was almost out the door when he interrupted me: “Excuse me, excuse me! Do you mind taking a picture with me please?” he asked. I was kind of shocked so I replied, “I’m sorry, I’m on my way home and it’s getting late.” “I promise it’s going to be really quick, just one picture please,” he said. “Ay why not.” I took the picture and went to my car. I was getting closer to my car. He followed me and we began to chat. We talked about school and God and life. Those were the three most important things to me, especially school and God. I was hooked and interested but I thought nothing of it; I was only interested in being friends. But soon I realized in this world that being friends with a pretty girl was not possible, at least not as often as I would like it to be. He asked for my number and I didn’t give it; instead I gave my social network name. We slowly but gradually became connected. He introduced me to his roommates and his cousin, and then it began. He was very nice, but everyone is nice within the first six months, right? The red flags began when he lied to me and told me that he didn’t have a daughter. I was already in a bit deep when I finally got the truth out of him. All I wanted was the truth, and at this point I didn’t really care whether he had a child or not. Once he said he loved God and was in school doing his masters, I was already in love, or so I thought. We talked about marriage, and once again I thought this was my husband. We prayed together, I cooked, and we would do things that normal couples or grown-ups do in relationships, including sex. The only difference is that every time I cried and AGAIN, I didn’t know why. I knew what was wrong because I wasn’t actually married but I placed in my head that if he’s going to be my husband anyway then it was right. Things began to change slowly. One day he told me that because his daughter’s mother was Muslim he had to go to Africa and marry her in order to keep his daughter as his child. He told me that the wedding and the marriage was not real and that it was just for that purpose. For a second or honesty more than a second I believed him, yet something just wasn’t right. At that period of my life I began to love myself; I wasn’t fully there yet, but it was something. He tried to convince me, he even asked his cousin to talk to me and to let me know that he and I would still end up getting married. But he still didn’t make sense as I was not about to be a second wife. Yet, something just was keeping me there with him. Something was allowing me to believe everything. I even helped him pay for the flight to Africa and the wedding and to purchase a gift for his daughter in Africa. He went and got married and came back to the United States. It didn’t hit me until I saw the photos of the wedding on Facebook. That’s when my beliefs and the Christian views and my conscience wasn’t allowing me to live or ignore what was in front of me. They tried to convince me it wasn’t real, and I remember with tears in my eyes saying to his cousin, “I can’t do this; it’s not right. No matter what, he is married. I can’t look at this and say it’s not a real marriage.” There were so many more obstacles that happened in that relationship within only six months. I found myself trying so hard to convince myself to stay because I had already given myself to this person and wanted him to be the last, but when the praying together stopped and I was left alone on my knees, I couldn’t do it anymore. This all happened within the first year of me entering college. Now nineteen, things were about to change.

This one was different, and led me to a life of self-growth, self love, self-appreciation, self-confidence, and helped me begin my journey of abstinence. I was focused on school, my life as a Christian and my relationship with God. My self-esteem was higher than most. I felt as though my life was finally coming into a place where I was finally in control and my only focus was education. I wasn’t looking for a relationship with anyone. I already had my four best friends, my relationship with my aunt was going well, my relationship with my dad was content, and I felt good. February 14 was when I had prayed to God and told Him that I was ready to love Him completely.I even pondered on the idea of becoming a nun. I accepted my new life of singleness as a growing young woman. My focus would be on school and God only.Well get ready for the testing and laughter. February 16 a friend of mine asked me if I have somebody in my life. I told her no but I wasn’t looking and I was okay. She said okay, but someone is interested in you. I told her it’s okay, because honestly, I was not looking right at the time and I was okay with being single. She told me I should just give him a try. “You don’t have to be with him. I promise you he’s just like you; he’s like the male version of you. He loves school and loves God and is very honest and goofy. In fact, he’s in Bible study right now and I told him that I will ask you if you’re okay with him sending you a message on Facebook.” I said, “Sure, he can send me a message but honestly I don’t think this is going to go anywhere.” She continued to tell me a little bit more about him. Later that day after his Bible study he wrote to me on Facebook. This time it “seemed” very different. We clicked immediately. He made me laugh. It was as if I had known him for years. It felt good to have a good conversation with someone. He lived in another state so I didn’t think it was going to go anywhere, which was a pattern that I had fallen into subconsciously. We continued to talk every day after that. She was right; he did seem like the male version of me. He even ended up speaking with my aunt and she automatically told me that he is my husband. I laughed at the fact that he had just one conversation with her and she already thought that he was my husband. Since she is very wise, some things she says actually come true, so that thought stayed in my mind for a little bit. Once again, I was totally focused on God and school and I equated that to be my husband. We spoke for about three months, and then he came to visit me at school. Well, several times, it was nice, and I began to fall in love. After a few months, he came to visit and that’s when it happened. I told him that I didn’t want to; I told him I was waiting for marriage. I told him that this is not what I wanted to be; this is not me. I tried to convince him that sex outside of marriage was not what I wanted. Yet somehow, I guess it all just went from one ear to the other, and with hormones and everything raging, I was unheard and even I couldn’t hear nor believe myself either, so it happened. Something felt strange and different. I still cried, but felt something different. I still knew it was wrong but still it was different. It was different because I felt that he was genuine, because I felt that he actually loved me. Thinking that maybe my aunt could’ve been right and that he was actually my husband, I became comfortable because we became comfortable with each other. I still cried, but I became comfortable and gradually I believed the concept that God had approved because this was my husband. We and I dated for a while. A year went by. He met my family. I met his family, and I was introduced to his three-year old daughter. This actually felt real. It felt as though everything was coming into place with my education, my relationship with God and having my own family. Although we had arguments and problems it was not over the top, I could tell that we loved each other. People around us saw that what we had was special. He became so many things to me that I was missing before, or at least I felt so. We began to talk about marriage and moving in together. We reached the point where I was given a promise ring, and then he bought a ring to ask for my hand in marriage. We were so close to moving in together, but I was fighting so hard to not lose my relationship with God, which was the one thing that kept me sane. It was that one thing that kept me from reliving my past. I couldn’t allow myself to be ungrateful, so I stood my ground and said that we are not married, I couldn’t move in with him just yet. I didn’t want to be like everyone else I thought to myself, although I was that way already. I wanted to uphold my reputation of a good person that follows the “rules.” I felt like I was different ; I felt there was something about my life that was just not like anyone else. I felt I was chosen for something but didn’t know what. If my conscience didn’t allow it, I fought it. We ended up breaking up because of a different situation. When we did, the realization that convincing myself to do things that I was against was not going to lead me to my true happiness took its course. I realized that every time I partake in sexual acts and then forgive myself, I would become unhappy. I know it’s not right and that’s why I always cry. That’s this feeling that I get … The feeling I get is from something deep down within my soul that tells me, “This is not you.” In that moment I realized that my relationship with God was most important than my relationships with these men, and who I will get involved with will be determined by the promises they make and my own free will. Honestly that’s when I knew that I was also more important. My happiness in having a free conscience, loving myself, and my confidence, was more important. I made the decision to become abstinent. I knew it was going to be hard, especially when the guy came back. I was drawn to him; he was like my drug that I was addicted to because of the many years, the intimacy, the closeness, the connection, our ups and downs, the goals and dreams we planned together, and I got used to him. After I told him that I was now abstinent, he laughed continuously and said that it’s impossible for him to be. I also asked if we can actually try to grow some kind of friendship instead of just the intense attraction. He told me that he could never be friends with me because he’s still in love with me. I couldn’t understand. How can you love someone without friendship and why couldn’t he want to wait for me now because it was clear that we broke up? All of those promises of marriage and my reasoning to partake in intercourse with him was based on those promises. Because of that breakup it was not guaranteed. I ended up in the Emergency Room due to a panic attack from our breakup and from feeling drained, lost and empty. I no longer had my family. The connection to his daughter and losing it hurt me the most. I felt as though I had lost so much. Nothing’s really guaranteed until it happens, I said to myself. I learned from all of my mistakes; it took me four times. The last one was the hardest hit for me to begin realizing my worth, my value and the importance of God in my life. The signs were there. The warning voice was low, but it was there and I ignored it. It took me being placed into a terrible situation to wake up, pay attention and to STOP! Like I said, I’m just like you. I’m not perfect, but with my mistakes I am now abstinent one year and counting.