BEAT FACE

I got hooked on the emotional chaos Black put me through. I couldn’t figure out why I stayed with someone who clearly didn’t give a damn about me. He’d call me “the only bitch” who was “this hard” to be with, saying I was “hard-headed and wouldn’t listen,” so he had to teach me. The abuse wasn’t always physical; he’d mentally rip me apart, but he was a master at pretending to be everything I needed. He’d tell me that without him, I’d never be anything more than a bum, then turn around and shower me with affection, making me feel like I meant the world to him.

Black would demean me, malign me, control me, then show love, trapping me in a cycle where I blamed myself for being inadequate. I’d desperately try to win back his love and attention every time. I was so emotionally tied to him that I kept coming back. Black was a narcissist, and I was co-dependent, feeling like I’d die without him, so I might as well die with him. It took me two years, six months, and five days to realize my life was worth more than he ever valued.

It was time to break free and reclaim my worth.