I was 17 when I met my then boyfriend George and I stayed with him until I was 22. The first couple of months were amazing, and then it started off with little things, like where I went and who I was with. He’d message all my friends with abuse so I only had him to rely on. He’d check all my social media account constantly, sometimes updating the statuses saying I’m a slag or changing my profile pictures to nude pictures of me and changing my passwords so I couldn’t change them. That was the first couple of years. The physical abuse started off small too, he’d trap my arm in a door. On another occasion he’d kick me in the back when I wasn’t walking quick enough. Once I woke up to him strangling me, he’s also chucked me out of a moving car and then dragged me back in. I stayed with him throughout this until he drove into the back of my car in the petrol station and tried to smash all the car windows why I was sat outside, that was the first and only time I rang the police, because it was the only time I had witnesses. Leaving him was the best thing I ever did.