There are times we hold on to things that hurt us, even when we know we deserve better. I didn’t think I would find myself in a situation as such until I ended up in a relationship with Larry.

I was twenty-two and in college when I met him in a WhatsApp group. He was in his thirties then. I think the mistake I made was falling in love with him quickly. I should have taken my time to know him better.

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Maybe I didn’t stand a chance. With his age and experience, compared to my naivety, how could I have guarded myself against the hailstorm he was? I fell for him so fast, lightning wouldn’t have won a race against me.

Although I was in my early twenties, I didn’t know much about men. So even when his intentions were glaring for anyone to see, I chose to believe his words when he said he loved me.

I would be having a deep conversation with this guy and out of nowhere he would chip in something sexual and direct the entire conversation into sexual jokes and slang. Honestly, most of it went over my head.

The first time he asked me to visit him I didn’t go. He wasn’t pleased with me when I cancelled. So the next time he invited me over, I showed up. That day we just talked and had a good vibe. I felt safe. Especially, because he didn’t try anything physical with me.

Unfortunately, this safety was shattered the next time I showed up. The laidback coy guy I thought he was replaced with a demanding man. I told him I wasn’t ready, but he wouldn’t listen. I took him I hadn’t done it before but he didn’t care.

To my utter horror, he fought me as if my strength could match his. All in an attempt to force himself on me. I didn’t want to give in so I held on tightly to my skirts until he eventually gave up.

The whole incident left me scared and shaken. He reached out and said he was sorry. He claimed he didn’t know what came over him. It won’t happen again,” he swore.

At that time, I had convinced myself that I loved him so much that if I lost him, the breath in my lungs would cease. So I easily forgave him.

The next time I went to his place he tried it again. I didn’t let him get his way this time around too. Maybe I should have blocked him after that but I was too dumb to choose myself.

I went to confide in a friend, who after listening to my story told me, “Men always want it. So if you want to be in a committed relationship, give it to him.”

I wanted to belong. I wanted to fit in with my friends who all had men they called their own. So I went ahead and gave Larry what he wanted.

He changed the moment he got a taste. He stopped being caring. I would stay at his place till late in the night, but this guy wouldn’t call to check if I got home safely.

One day I went over there and refused to give him the cookie. This man got angry and threw me out of his house. I was so hurt.

When I got home called to ask him, “Why are you so heartless?” He was not even remorseful. Rather, he insulted me. I also insulted him back.

Things pretty much ended after that heated quarrel.

I tried to forget about him but I was miserable. So when he came begging for forgiveness after two months, my stupid heart softened toward him. On my birthday he called me and asked for another chance. “This time around, I want to give it my all. No holding back.”

That was exactly what I wanted from him. I couldn’t help it. It got to me.

Despite the fact that I tried to stand my ground, I ended up talking to him again. You know what they say—a monkey will never leave its black hand behind. That horrible relationship, which I refused to let go of became worse the longer I stayed.

Larry had these weird kinks that I never consented to. He didn’t care though. He wanted it so he did it anyway. He would tie my hands, and use me however he wanted before he would let me go.

One day I threatened to report him because I was getting sick too often. He panicked and took me to a hospital where his friend worked. But when the doctor said he needed to examine me down there, Larry forbade me from ever going there again.

I wanted to leave but for some reason, I just couldn’t break free. It was like a terrible addiction. I knew he was destroying me but I kept revisiting the scene of my own destruction.

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I wanted to talk to someone but I was ashamed and afraid they would judge me and call me names. “They will even laugh at you,” a little voice in my head would whisper. So I kept my suffering to myself and fought my demons all alone.

By God’s grace, I finally found my way out of that abusive relationship. I have been trying to heal but it’s hard. I am still living with the trauma that relationship caused me.

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I can’t stop blaming myself for what happened. Why did I punish myself like that? Why did I give all of my heart to a man who only wanted my body?

I need psychological help but I can’t afford a therapist. My mind and heart are still trapped in the past. Meanwhile, the person who broke me is out there living his life happily without an ounce of guilt.

—Martha, Sierra Leone 

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