Have you ever heard of Juicy Campus or CollegeACB? Neither had I, until it was too late. College Anonymous Confession Board was a place where over 500 universities had public discussion boards where students could anonymously share rumors and gossip. It may not have been the intent of the forum, but the controversy developed instantaneously.
Long story short, I met a guy and we went on a date. It quickly developed into something. We weren't "boyfriend-girlfriend" but practically lived together. Translation: I wasn't allowed to spend a night at home without him. Red Flag numero uno.
It wasn't until after the date that I learned about CollegeACB. Well this wouldn't be a good story if he wasn't the most popular and most frequented thread for our university. Apparently he was a tool bag, a woman beater, and someone wanted to beat him over the head with a nine iron.
Typical me, I gave him the benefit of the doubt and we continued to date for awhile. I soon learned he had a bad temper and was very possessive. It never added up--because we weren't officially dating--but I still couldn't talk to other guys. It reached the point where I was pushing away my friends. He had taken my phone before and threatened the person on the other end, he had stepped up to people when we were out, he had made me come home early when I was out with friends... I was actually brainwashed, and it got old, quick.
One day my good friend Mike came to town from Long Island. We planned to meet for lunch before I had to head to work. Throughout the entire meal, I was getting phone calls and texts telling me how disrespectful I was being for going on a date. Who was I disrespecting? Our entire relationship was about "not being official" while also following typical relationship protocol. Anyway.
Lunch in my work uniform, with my friend, is NOT a date.
It's not my style to have my phone out during meals, especially when I'm trying to catch up with someone. We both deserve each others undivided attention. I don't know why 1) portioned meals, 2) mandatory squats while blow drying my hair, and 3) not being allowed to drink beer in a plastic cup in public weren't already reason enough to walk away, but embarrassing me in front of my friends was the last straw.
I left the restaurant completely unsatisfied with my visit, and headed over to talk to him at his job. He had about 15 minutes until he had to wrap up for the day, and I bolted back to the apartment to get my things. My laptop, PS3, personal belongings, etc. I left the house key on the table and locked the door behind me... I didn't want to look back.
Not even half an hour later he came to my job and went from 0 to 60. First he was begging me back, then he was calling me a whore, screaming to my customers that I was this huge slut. Weren't you just telling me you love me and you're so sorry? Then he went out to my car and was trying to break in to get the computer and PlayStation. #funfact: he thinks he is entitled to these things, like a lot of other things in his life. I couldn't begin to explain his reasoning if I tried. Whatever, at least he left the building and I am no longer mortified.
Except then he came back. I was cleaning a tanning bed and locked us both in the back corner room. I tried to get out, mostly aggravated because I was at work and my salon was unattended. Fighting for the door knob, he threw me into a wall, and kept me in there for at least two minutes until I was scared to death.
The owner of the other salon was a cop so as soon as I got back up front, I called his cell phone crying "He's going crazy." My intent was to call my buddy, who was off-duty, to come down and diffuse the situation. Leave it to him to send three cop cars within one minute... at least I can count on him. B sat in his car and waited for the cops to come anyway... he knew they were going to catch up with him. I told the police I didn't really know what I wanted to do, I just wanted him out of my workplace. I later learned that he was sitting in his car, trying to pull his hair out, doing his typical boo-hoo me act. This guy would rather plead insanity than get busted for something.
The rest of the night was a little chaotic. I had some catching up to do between explaining the situation to my boss and making police statements. Things finally simmered down and some customers invited me out to for a few drinks. In the meantime, B had left me a bunch of text messages and tearful voice mails. I felt bad for him... the point of this story isn't to bash him. I'd like to think that some things about him were genuine. I had seen him cry, I had learned some private things about him, and I'm sure that a lot of his overbearing cockiness actually stems from his deepest insecurities. Against my better judgement, I lied to him and said I was going to meet up with a girlfriend to unwind, but I'd be back at his place after.
Instead, I stayed out until the bars closed and drank way too much. The company I was with didn't help the situation. Three more tool bags... nice kids but I don't know how else to describe them. Making matters worse, one of them kissed me. That was my cue to leave. I went back to B's and straight to bed.
Ed Hardy [the one I made out with] started calling my phone, but I slept right through it. B picked up and I woke to his screaming. Just what I needed, two huge egos yelling back and forth at each other.
The rest of the night was a blur. First off, B wouldn't give me my phone back. Another one of those entitlement things. He actually thought he was allowed to keep it. [He was obsessed with my new iPhone. He had actually picked it out. There is a good chance I would still be using a palm centro if it weren't for his need to keep up with technology trends.] When I tried to get it from him, I was thrown into a dresser, an ironing board, and to the ground. Then, I was carried over his shoulder down the stairs and forced to sit on the couch while he sat across from me with a large knife. I had to be quiet for ten minutes if I wanted my phone and to be able to leave.
Is this what hostages feel like?
Every time I let out a cry, the clock restarted back at ten minutes. It seemed like an eternity until I finally got out of there and got in my car. I called my best friend first. This is how fucked up my night was -- she was out celebrating her birthday and I was calling her crying. I had completely forgotten it was her big day.
She and another friend convinced me to call 9-1-1... since this was the second scene today, I needed to.
I'll stop the story here, because the fact that I knew the cop that came to the scene, the arguing back and forth in the weeks to come, the court sessions and the awkwardness of recognizing people in the court room who were there for parking tickets and minor traffic violations are all embarrassing and irrelevant details.
I sought comfort through my aunt who was in an abusive relationship. I knew that if I told my mother, she would find a reason to point blame and not be able to comfort me. The last thing I needed was to learn a lesson. Knowing that someone else had been in a situation where they felt threatened didn't exactly make me feel better, but it made me feel normal. It helped me realize that it wasn't something that I did wrong, and that I didn't deserve it.
SO WHAT MAKES YOU ANY DIFFERENT?
After it all blew over, we went separate ways. We chose to ignore each other when we were out at the same bars [excluding a few times he got loud and immediately got kicked out... pays to know people]. I learned that some girls I was friends with/ acquaintances of/knew from work, etc. had been spending time with him.
I'm not the type to be mad about "my replacement." I didn't care that he was spending time with these other women. My issue was that they knew what had happened between us and continued to see him. Everyone has their right to form their own opinions and take risks, but what made these girls think that he wouldn't treat them the same exact way?
With the knowledge of my very recent experience with him, these women had to think at least one of these things:
1. I was making it all up.
2. They were untouchable and it would not happen to them.
3. They legitimately didn't care.
While I didn't lose sleep over this, I absolutely took offense to it. What made them any better than me? How did they walk into it fully aware of his track record, confident that it wouldn't happen to them, too?
I know I won't make the same mistake twice. So, why do some women chose to find things out the hard way?
