“For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline.” – 2 Timothy 1:7
When I entered my first “real” relationship, I had no idea of what to expect. I was 16, and I had never even kissed a guy, because I thought first kisses were sacred. Little did I know, I was about to cross lines, and compromise my integrity for this boy who I claimed to fall in love with. Relationships of teenagers are more like obsessions. There’s very little real love, and a whole lot of jealousy, confusion, and hormones. I was desperate to spend every waking moment I could find with this human, it was mentally exhausting.
It wasn’t long before we felt comfortable enough putting our hands on each other. It wasn’t the stereotypical abusive relationship, I went punch for punch, scream for scream. The issue with growing up in a toxic household, I wasn’t one to let a man hurt me without paying for it, but even worse, I had no idea when to walk away. Enough was never enough. The fights never had a rhyme or reason, it was pure rage & teenage hormones. It never made sense, and we were content in the chaos.
I also started smoking pot around this time, and picked up cigarettes. I was rebelling and numbing myself all at the same time. I was introduced to things that terrified me. I lied to my parents over and over again. I’d tell them that I got off work a half an hour later than I actually did, just so I could stop by his house & either get high or have sex. I felt dirty, but I couldn’t imagine a life without him in it. He consumed my thought process, I was blind to everything else. The ultimate smack in the head was he & I losing our virginity to each other. That bond stopped us from ending our relationship time after time, because doesn’t everyone want to believe that the man who has their V card loves them unconditionally? I couldn’t fathom the thought of starting from zero with someone new, letting someone else touch me the way that only he had.
It wasn’t until a year in to that relationship that my mom picked up on the severity of our situation. My attitude sucked, I was getting caught in my lies, and she had a long conversation with my boyfriends mother, who told her about the fights she would over hear from the other side of the wall. My mom went to my dad, and they sat me down for an intervention. I wasn’t going to give up without a fight, how dare they try to separate us? We were in love! They told me I needed to end it, but taking advice from the two people who showed me that version of twisted treatment was a joke.
I continued to see him, against my parents wishes. The sneaking around and lying got worse, and since we were seeing each other less, we were behaving better when we were together. Of course we both thought that meant we had “changed” and could give “us” another try. I sat my parents down this time, and plead my case. They hesitantly agreed, and gave me their temporary blessing to see him. They trusted that my brain would eventually over rule my heart, and the blinders would be removed. They were right; it was only a week later that him and I were back at each other’s throats, and I was too tired to keep going. I surrendered, and walked away for good.
Letting me make my own choice in that was the best decision my parent’s could make, the thrill of the chase was most of why he & I were still interested in each other. The love wasn’t there, and we understood that. We just thought we needed to hold on, for a chance at a happily ever after, the fairytale.