At 19 I met the man who would be the bio-dad to my kids.

The abuse was emotional at first. It was deceptive, because he was teaching me how to rely on him for everything. I didn't need validation or support from anyone else because he could give me anything I'd ever need. We would have everything. He just needed my undying love and support while he figured out how to make sure the world was in our hands.

He was full of hope and philosophy. He was several years older, more experiences under his belt and in his heart. I would hear how he'd still mourn the loss of a teenage love. I thought she had passed and thought it somewhat romantic that he still carried love in his heart for her.

She wasn't dead.

After too many drinks one night he told me about how Eva had broken his heart and even stabbed him. He told me it was about money, he wouldn't give her the money she needed for her drugs. In his defense he explained he had been trying to save her. He cried about how she'd destroyed a bit of him that night, that his love hadn't been enough to save him from the knife.

I was such a sucker.

Years later he was no longer keeping his anger in check. We'd met up with one of his old work buddies and they went off to drink a few beers and catch up. When he came home he wasn't drunk, which was so odd. I knew he'd been drinking and it wasn't like him to stop until the sun went down. He'd been smoking crack. He just told me, straight up, that he'd been smoking and now he needed to get into our safe to take out money for more. I didn't get in his way, he took the money and he gave it to the old work buddy. Three hours later the buddy never showed up. Man he was getting so angry the whole time. He remembered Eva and mentioned that he'd probably had the stabbing coming - he'd taken her paycheck and gambled the rent money away. His winnings hadn't been cashed, he'd brought home what was left in chips. She freaked out on him, he tried to love on her, then he had to smack her, and then she stabbed him.

I'd become dependent on him at this point. It took a long time before I knew I would finally leave for good, so when he was locked up (felonious assault, I was the victim) I did everything to make sure he stayed locked up until the trial. I only had to testify at the pre-trial, he didn't argue innocence afterwards.

He was out of jail several months later but I had already moved hundreds of miles away. I haven't seen him in over 9 years now.

I'm in my 30s now, looking back at my younger self and feeling a lot of sorrow. She didn't have a supportive family. She didn't know her own value was not tied into the ways others saw her. She didn't know that a relationship wasn't "required" to be treated as an adult.

At the end of the day it is good to know that I now know the value I hold as a person. I learned to accept and love myself so I can feel acceptance and love. Cheesy and smarmy, but there have been a lot of experiences lately that require me to remember just that.