Happily Ever After-Yeah Right!
At 15, I meet who would be my first serious boyfriend. I won’t divulge his name but I refer to him as Shit Head, (S.H.)
I went to the mall with my best friend to see a movie. After it finished, we sat in the food court having ice cream, when a group of guys nearby were trying to get our attention. We were about to leave when one of the boys asked me for my phone number. I didn’t find him attractive, but being pursued in some way by a male was something I craved. He called and we started dating. My parents hated him right away. I was in love.
I was forbidden to see him due to his history of violence, rage and the fact that he only had a grade 8 education. He was a drop out. I convinced myself that his history was just that, history and he was changed. So we snuck around. He was really nice to me and after a few short months I lost my virginity to him. I can’t actually to this day remember the first time it happened. I wasn’t drunk or high, but perhaps I blocked it out.
It wasn’t long after that I started feeling ill. My parents and I were fighting constantly because they suspected I was up to no good. One morning when I got up for school, I showered and then I grabbed a cup of hot chocolate. While I made my way downstairs to my room, I puked in the hallway and all over my bedroom floor. I knew instinctively I was pregnant. I was terrified. I went to the doctor who confirmed it and I was determined to keep this secret from my parents and have an abortion.
My parents knew I was sneaking around and I ended up leaving to live with S.H. and his parents. This was pretty much the beginning of when I saw him for who he really was. He would go into horrifying rages on his mother on a regular basis. It made me really uncomfortable witnessing this, and in time it was directed towards me.
When I told him I was pregnant, he didn’t want me to get an abortion. I made the appointment anyway. Our relationship was a constant war zone. He would flip out over nothing, screamed, punched holes in the walls. I endured a fair share of mental and emotional abuse.
I ended up having an ultrasound. I saw my baby who was sucking it’s thumb inside my tummy. I was also told it was a boy. I decided then and there that I was going to keep my baby. I still wasn’t living at home and was terrified to tell my parents. I was about 16 weeks along when we told his mother. S.H. decided that he didn’t want to have a baby anymore, but I couldn’t imagine not having him. His mother told us to go on Social Assistance and get emancipated. We did and moved out into our own apartment at 16.
The abuse got worse. My parents found out I was pregnant because S.H.’s aunt called my mom and told her. S.H. started taking off everyday and left me in our apartment 24/7. I would cry for hours and hours. He was sleeping around, but I didn’t find out until quite awhile later.
Whenever he did decide to stroll in at some crazy hour, he would fly into a rage if I ever dared to ask him where he had been. More holes in the walls. This was a regular occurrence and we would break up and get back together over and over.
I wasn’t in school during this time and I pretty much lost contact with the majority of my friends, except for my best friend. She has stuck by me through it all.
When I went into labor, my mom came and was in the delivery room with me. S.H. was with me prior and the nurses told him to go home for awhile because it was going to be a bit yet. He showed up several hours after I had my son. He went into a screaming rage at the hospital because apparently no one called him to let him know it was getting close. The nurse said she did and there was no answer. I was embarrassed. We weren’t officially together when Austin was born, but ended up getting back together shortly after. It was madness. He was like my drug.
I finally was able to get out of the relationship when Austin was 2. S.H. would try to break into my apartment and would tell me that when Austin got older, he was going to tell him what a bitch I was. I had to get a protection order. During this time I finished high school and got a job to support my son. We went to court a few times because he wanted to have visitation rights. The judge granted him supervised visits which started out okay a couple times, than ended up with Austin waiting for him at the park and S.H. would show up late and than not at all. There was my little boy sitting on the park bench waiting for his dad who wasn’t coming. I ended that right then and there.
We went to court again and within a few weeks of that, he ended up going to a maximum security prison for rape. When he got out, he didn’t bother trying to see Austin, and when Austin turned 7, I found out that S.H. died from a drug overdose. I went to his funeral and it was like closure for me. Austin never really knew him, so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.
Enter James Denby. We met, fell in love and Austin calls him Dad. He is an amazing role modal to our boys and I am grateful for all that he has given us.
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