Dear ones,
As part of our campaign #astojetosexualviolence?, which we are holding on the occasion of the month-long celebration of the International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women, we bring you a sincere story from our dear Adriana!
Adriana decided to go a step further and write us a story in which she bravely speaks out about sexual violence, about violence in relationships.... About the violence that many women experience every day!
Adriana experienced (and survived) an extremely abusive relationship right after graduating from high school. A relationship that marked her entire twenties and whose consequences she still carries with her, only now much braver, prouder and smarter. She shared her story with everyone on her blog with the aim of spreading the visibility of this huge problem and encouraging conversation about it.
Thank you Adriana for your great courage, selfless desire to share your experience, and willingness to highlight the problem of violence in relationships and show many girls that they are not alone!
The story is below (and you can read the original version in English in the attachment), we also share with you link to Adriana's blog and link to her written articles concerning the violence she experienced.
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We were lying on the couch, he was behind me and grabbed my neck with his hands, covering my mouth. His grip was strong, he knew he was going to hurt me. As he lifted my dress, I felt his fingers move my panties to the side. After that, he started "rubbing" his penis against my ass and vagina. When he was sure I was wet enough, he sodomized me.
How can a woman pretend to love it? She simply distances herself from her soul.
I went to his place one afternoon to pick up the last of my things, while he was home alone. I finally got the courage to leave him, I was ready to leave for good. I had had enough. "It's over. I never want to see you again," he said, pushing me against the wall, but this time I just laughed. "The next time I see you, it'll be in prison," I said.
He didn't take this news lightly, pushing me into the wall again and then running after me around the room as I ran for my life. When I was two steps down the stairs, he extended his leg and kicked me in the crotch. I held on to the wooden railing as I tumbled down the stairs.
He looked at me from the top of the stairs and shouted "Get out of here you stupid bitch!". I breathed very shallowly to reduce the pain coming from the area where he had hit me so hard a moment ago. This area of my body will soon turn an ugly, dark purple color.
I limped out of his parents' house and got into my car. I don't know how I managed to drive in such intense pain, but I decided to get to the gas station. There was only one thing on my mind.
I hated myself. How could I ever let him treat me like this? How would I get up from this rock bottom? My whole life and my whole body were in tatters, shattered to the core. What would my parents think if they ever found out? What had I done to deserve this? I did everything for that boy.
I bought two boxes of paracetamol and a bottle of water. I drove to where a friend of mine worked and took one pill every minute and a half. A few times I would take two pills.
Within 40 minutes, I had taken 40 pills. By then, I had already reached my friend and told her what I had done, and she immediately called 911. I felt my body slowly shutting down, organ by organ, breath by breath. Ironically, this was the first time I had felt alive in a year.
...
Once upon a time, I fell in love with the wrong person. He opened every vein in my body. He was the first and last man whose touch I felt all over my body, and that same touch had been holding me back since I was 17. I internalized that trauma to the point that I carried the shame, guilt, and pain with me through my twenties. I forgave him long before I forgave myself.
I'm guilty of holding on like crazy for the first 6 months of our relationship, hoping that the "real" him would come back. I'm guilty of letting him treat me badly. I was guilty of not leaving him, especially after the first time he hit me. I'm guilty of doing something that must have caused him to hit me. It's my fault because I stayed in that relationship, I asked for it.
I'm like your sister, your mother, your cousin, your grandmother, your friend.. I'm just like you.
I know what it feels like to be vulnerable and helpless. I know what it feels like to be belittled, called names. I know what it feels like to be told over and over again that you are worthless.
I know the feeling of shame and guilt. It's much easier to keep quiet, isn't it?
I know what it's like to be with someone you trust unconditionally, while that person controls every aspect of your life. I know what it's like to live in fear and be constantly anxious as you wonder how your partner will hurt you today.
I know what it's like to work and pay for your cell phone, only to have your partner use it because you're not allowed to have a good phone.
I know what it's like to be told what to wear, where to sit, and when to speak. I know what it's like to have to "minimize" your personality and not look so happy so as not to overshadow your partner.
I know what it's like to have someone control your bank account. I know what it's like to have someone read your cell phone messages.
I know what it's like to share a bed with someone who constantly tells you you're fat and ugly, but still forces you to give him oral sex.
I know what it's like to be sodomized while they cover your mouth with their hand so you don't scream too loudly. I know what it's like to have to say "yes, I love it" because you're afraid for your life.
I know what it's like to be in a situation where the boyfriend who told you this morning that he loved you now has his hands around your neck and threatens to kill you while his parents sleep carefree in the next room.
I know what it's like to say "no," but your partner isn't listening to you because he's not done yet.
I know what it's like when they tell you not to tell your story to other guys, because they might not want to be in a relationship with you after that.
I know what it's like when a guy sneaks up on you from behind and says "I heard you're good for a fuck" in front of your friends.
I know what it's like when a person "rubs" against you in a tram full of people, and to all that, those people say "that's normal in Croatia".
I know what it's like to walk down the main street of a city in a skirt, while men (old enough to be your father) lick their lips, call you a pussy, and suggest what they should do to you.
I know what it's like working in a store while being stalked by a customer who tries to get you into awkward situations, only to have your coworkers comment on the situation with "maybe you shouldn't flirt with people so much."
I know what it's like when guys spread fake stories about you, like you caught them in public and told him you wanted him, even though you were in a long-term relationship with his close friend at the time. I know what it's like when he says all that just so he has something to talk about in front of the guys.
I know what it's like when three guys force you to undress in front of them, and you do it out of fear and a desire to please them and because you have no other way home because you have to be driven by one of them who your mother thinks is perfect for you to marry.
I know what it's like to share my pain and hear responses like "Well, that's normal."
I know what it's like to hear "Even if you tell someone about it, no one will believe you."
No, that's not normal and I believe you!
adriana_s_story.pdf