Started dating a man 8 years older than me when I was 17. We moved in together right away. I didn’t know it at first but he was addicted to oxycotton.

I remember the first time he slapped me and knocked me off my feet. I came home from seeing two old friends and as soon as I walked into the door he slapped me so hard. I ran out of the house and came back to find him using pills. I was so hurt and sad and scared. I ended up using with him and becoming an opiate addict. Every time I tried to quit he would come home with more and more.

Four months into our relationship and we were sick and withdrawing. I made too much noise according to him and he dragged me out of my bedroom by my hair. He punched me a few times in the head, kicked me in the stomach and back and slapped me. He then dragged me back into the bedroom and demanded I make the bed. Reluctantly I did. Then he pushed me back into the living room and he slept in bed.

Two hours later he left. I don’t know why I ran after him. I was scared yet I was also scared to be alone. He spit in my face and told me to go. I went to my mothers and she called the police. He sat in jail for two months and was released on probation. A few months later we reconnected and he apologized and begged me to come back. I decided to give him a chance because maybe people can change.... he didn’t change.

Not long after getting a beautiful apartment he turned again, and punched me in the nose. He panicked when he saw the blood gushing out of my nose and dragged me home. His mother came over and convinced me he didn’t mean to do it, he wouldn’t do it again and he loved me. I believed her. I had two black eyes from that.
Two months after I found out I was pregnant with our daughter. When I was about 7 and a half months pregnant he pushed me to the ground and punched me in the face after throwing a bowl of soup I made for him at me.


I had our daughter, and he would continue to hurt me every few weeks. He would snap after so long and take all his frustration out on me. I found out not long after he was still using drugs and I tried to leave him. He locked the door and beat me in our bedroom.
My last straw was when our daughter was two and he punched a hole in our wall after screaming in my face. He came back with flowers. The next day he went to help my mother’s boyfriend with something and I left with our daughter. It was the best decision I ever made. I felt so free finally being away.


I found a new man who treats me like a queen. We recently welcomed a little girl into the world. I never thought I would be happy again, and yet here I am smiling and feeling loved.

Getting out is possible

J. Busse