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True Story: How I Survived My Sexual, Abusive Relationship After 6 Months of S*x Slavery

Love doesn’t provoke you to sob in a corner. It doesn’t put a fist through your wall.

Once there was a girl who floated through life feeling as though she had been drugged by sadness. She often wore a smile for others but underneath the mask was a sea of pain. One day her state of sadness gripped her in a most unyielding chokehold as she sat in her car in a busy parking lot, feeling as though she had become a prisoner to hopelessness. In that moment, it would have been a death sentence if she had attempted to drive.

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The hole in her self-esteem had not formed spontaneously. It happened one dagger at a time, and she learned that the blade got sharper and the cut went deeper each time she returned to him once more.

Alone in a parking lot, surrounded by passing strangers who were oblivious to her state of personal catastrophe, she felt as though she was trapped inside of a horror movie, desperate to find the “pause” button. But, there was no button to be found, no lifeline to phone and no one was coming to sweep in and save her from this nightmare.

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