I met him when I was 17 years old on an anonymous confession app called “whisper”. He told me from the start he was married but had permission from his wife to sleep around. I thought it was weird, but I was feeling so depressed and lonely it didn’t matter to me. At least someone would pay attention to me for a little bit.

We began seeing each other more regularly at his friend’s apartment - or so I thought. Twice every week we would meet and go have sex, cuddle, talk, leave and go grab a coffee and then go on our ways. I started seeing some red flags when we went to Starbucks.

It was PACKED. Line out the door, every table was taken. He told me to watch for a table, and I tried to. When he saw one open up, he told me to go grab it while he waited to order. I don’t know what happened and why I wasn’t able to, this man just sat as I was about to. I turned around to see him standing there, smoke coming out of his ears. He got out of line, grabbed me by the arm, and dragged me out of the store.
“So fucking useless” he said. And he was right.

The next red flag was when he went on a business trip to northern Maine - no one knew where I was going and he knew that. How could a 17 year old tell anyone she was going to Maine with a 39 year old married man?

We get into the room and it starts off normally. He kisses me, we talk like we’re old friends, and we goof around. As cliché as it sounds, when the sun set it was a whole new world. I went to take a shower and locked the door behind me, out of habit of growing up in a house of 8 people. When I came out, he grabbed me by my wet hair and pulled me to the ground.
“Why did you lock the door”
I couldn’t answer. Maybe if I did it would have been better.
“So fucking useless. Why can’t you just ANSWER ME when I talk to you?”
That’s when he first hit me. Sure, there was some playful spanking here and there, but this was different. I could feel the anger. I was scared.
I looked at him and apologized, but it wasn’t enough. At that point everything I did was wrong. Everything I did was a problem, and he wasn’t about to let me forget it.
“You washed all your makeup off. You’re disgusting. Do you actually expect me to touch you or even sleep in the same bed as you looking like that?”
Again, I didn’t answer. Why was I so stupid? Why couldn’t I just answer him?
“Alright well if the stupid doll isn’t going to say anything, may as well complete the facade.” He drew a stick figure head on a paper bag from Hannaford’s, and put it over my head. And then he laughed.
“THERE! That’s MUCH better.”
The bag stuck to my wet hair and clung to the droplets running down my face. I went to take it off and he stopped me. He stood me up, slammed my head repeatedly against the wall, and told me no, dolls don’t move. Do not touch that bag.

He then kissed my neck, my shoulders, and down my back as my tears joined the drops of water from my shower and drew the bag closer to my face. He asked if I was scared and I cried. I was really scared. I wanted to go home. I slept on the floor that night like a dog.

He laughed. I cried.
Why didn’t I leave?

In the morning he was normal, and acted like my friend again. I didn’t feel safe anymore. I knew I had to get out but I didn’t know how. No one knew about any of these things I was doing.

After going to the hospital the next day, I found I had a concussion.

After I turned 18, my life became more chaotic. Losing family, friends, a place to live and needing to finish my high school career so I could start making money to support myself was rough, and was the perfect time to transition out of seeing him. We still talked very often, but we never saw each other. I felt so much safer.
One day he disappeared, and I became really worried. Call it Stockholm syndrome, or just plain stupidity. I called him, and he told me that his wife never approved of him sleeping around and that he got another girl pregnant, and that the place him and I were having sex wasn’t his friends place, but was a different girl’s home that he was having sex with who gave him a key.

I tried to be supportive and understanding, but it just didn’t happen that way. I felt useless. I was useless.

A few weeks go by, and I don’t hear from him. One morning before going into work I notice a usual favorite of mine made me throw up. I decide to take a pregnancy test....

And I’m pregnant. I send him a long email telling him, followed by making an appointment at the abortion clinic. I was useless. I didn’t want to do this. I wasn’t ready. I asked him to help pay for it, he said he would write me a check.
The clinic wouldn’t accept it if he wasn’t present- and he did not want to try and be my friend.
I sent him another very long email about the lies, the manipulation, and every other thing that was happening and told him I was telling his wife.
I cut off all contact, but he still manages sends me a text, email, or call almost every day.

I haven’t told anyone about this until now, not even his wife or the police. I was and continue to be so afraid of the societal backlash I could get from sleeping with a married man. These scenarios stuck with me, but more things than just those listed happened. He bruised me. He tricked me into meeting his wife. He made me bleed. He told me to kill myself.

While the harassment is carried on, I’ve gotten over most of the issues he caused. I have a beautiful child who I love more than anything in the world, and I know I’m not useless. Relationships for me are hard, but they’re hard for everyone.
I hope my story helps someone. I hope it helps you.