WARNING - long and upsetting post follows, it is really long so grab a glass of wine.
I met the man of my dreams when DD was 2 years old. He was handsome, educated, well dressed, and had a gorgeous smile. He was almost magnetic.
People knew him, he waved to everyone in the village and they waved back. I'd never really noticed him before, and then our paths crossed in the village deli one lunchtime.
I was a single mum, working part-time as a manager in one of the village shops and just bumbling along with life. I didn't feel great about myself, my confidence had been worn away bit by bit, DD's father had been shagging anything that moved, hence the split and then after a few weeks of being apart, I found out I was expecting. I decided to keep the baby because my GP had told me that conceive easily. We decided not to try and make a go of it as we both wanted different things out of life, but he was and is a very supportive person, he and DD have a great relationship, and still see each other now.
Anyway, I'd started to notice this chap coming into work, quite often really..... on his own, with other men, his friends most likely and once another woman.
Then I noticed him when I was walking home, he went past in the car.
A few weeks later, I got a card through the post, asking me to call him as he'd like to take me to see a film, out for dinner or to the theatre. My choice.
You can imagine how flattered I was. Single mum, had a bit of shit ride in life with men, always going for the bad lads and the wrong ones! Never found a man to settle down with etc...... always been in emotionally abusive relationships. Even my very first boyfriend, cheated on me during our 6yrs together.
So. After 2 weeks, I built up the courage to call. We'll call him TwattyMcTwatFace, TF for short if that's okay.
We arranged a night out, he came to pick me up and we went for dinner. I had a lovely dinner, very swanky place and I actually felt as if it was too good for me to be in there IYKWIM?
He drove me home, dropped me off and walked me to the door. The dates continued, nights out, days away, weekends in swanky hotels, meeting his friends, parties. I fell for him more and more and more. He made me feel incredible, adored. He treated me like no-one ever had before, I was utterly besotted with him. He was the man of my dreams. I couldn't imagine my life without him.
Fast forward 6 months and I introduced him to DD. She loved him to bits and him her. We went out as a family, together, united. We went on holiday, yes, a real holiday on a plane! It was amazing. He bought us both clothes and gifts. We wanted for nothing. And, soon after he asked me to move in with him, with DD of course, and I jumped at the chance. He was like her real father, he tought her things, read to her, bathed her, snuggled her when she felt weepy and tired. He loved her so much. He was so gentle with her.
Then there was the sex. The sex was mind blowing, he was older than me by 12 years and he really showed it in bed. What he didn't do wasn't worth doing. We had such a great sex life. He refused to use condoms so I went on the pill. Which was fine.
Then he introduced drugs to me. Coke, weed, and poppers in the bedroom. We shopped for sex toys together, he wanted me to dress up for him. So I went along with it, I wanted to please him, I didn't like it but felt I couldn't tell him. I wanted to be his everything.
We started work on the house too, changing the cellar into a den and an office for him as he worked at home sometimes. When the building work was being done, he asked me to come to the cellar. There was a bottle of champagne, candles, chocolates etc.... we sat in the den, drinking and then he started to take my clothes off. I said I was too tired, let's just go to bed. He refused and said if I loved him I'd have sex. I agreed. after a few glasses of fizz, he decided we'd do something different and tied me up to the beams in the cellar with two of his ties. I had nothing but my knickers on and then he blindfolded me. I was so turned on but didn't know he'd spiked my drinks with vodka so I got drunk much more quickly.
He started to touch and kiss me, giving me more and more champagne. I was so dizzy, I felt ill, really ill. I begged him to stop but he refused. Then I felt something ice cold sliding up the inside of my thigh, it was a knife. Fucking hell, he had the huge kitchen knife and was getting closer and closer to my knickers. I actually wet myself in fear and he just laughed calling me a dirty bitch, then he slapped me and cut my knickers off. He held the knife to my throat as he forced himself inside my from behind. I was shaking with fear, not daring to breathe too deeply in case he cut me.
When he'd finished, he got my arms down and said for me to clean myself up, I looked a state etc. I showered and went to bed whilst he cleared up the cellar. We stayed together and that night was never mentioned again. It kind of stopped for a while, the aggresive sex. As if he didn't want to push his luck.
We started going clubbing, which I loved, that was my thing. We did more drugs, had more sex. DD was staying at her Gma's more and more. Days on end so that I could be with TF alone, with him more. I just wanted him. More treats, nights out, new friends....
Then one night he asked me if I fancied one of his mates, we'd been seeing him more and more but they were all good looking. I said I thought he was good looking. I didn't realise at first what the plan was. It happened so fast and I was so drugged up I just lay there and let his friend rape me. Tears rolling down my face. It was so quick, a minute maybe, if that. After he finished, TF came over to me, he'd been there and not stopped his friend, and punched me in the face calling me a whore, swearing at me and pushing me into the wall. Again, I cleaned myself up, if this is what he wanted, then I should let it happen.
I went to the bathroom, my face throbbing and looked in the mirror. I had a split lip and an imprint from his ring across my face.
I went back down and started apologising, saying that I was sorry to upset him. He calmed down and asked me to ait with him. I sat there in silence whilst the two of them laughed on joked about the many girls they'd had together. TF had another house in the area, and I later discovered that was where he took most of his shags.
A while later, we had some more coke. I said I wanted to go to bed, had to collect DD in the morning. He said he'd be up in a while.
I went up to bed and cried myself to sleep. I was woken by him forcing himself inside me. He had his hand over my face and was pushing down on me so hard I lost my breath. I didn't move. I just froze and when he'd finished, lay there not moving until I thought he was asleep. Everything hurt, my legs were bruised with finger marks.
I went to the bathroom and found I was bleeding, he'd torn me with the force.
The months went by, we followed a regular pattern, clubbing, drugs, parties, rape, treats and beatings. He'd always 'make it up to me' with expensive presents and flowers and a million 'sorrys'.
He was adopted and lost all of his adoptive family, apart from his brother . He'd tracked his real mother down but she didn't want to know him. He had family out there, waiting to find him but he shut down after that. That was his excuse for being like that, he'd never been loved or wanted, so I decided that I would be the one who loved him and wanted him. No matter what.
Then the others started. The other women. Sex, nights away from home, lies, calls, letters. He had a string of them on the go. I dropped 2 stone and my parents were so worried.
He always apologised, said they were lying, they meant nothing to him, they were just jealous.
I stayed. I wanted to change him. He needed to be loved. I answered the door to them, told them I was his partner and to please leave. We had phone calls at all hours of the night, women sobbing that they 'needed him'
He had texts all the times asking when he'd be there. And all the time I forgave him. He even cheated on me when we were o holiday together, he knew some of the women where we were staying, how convenient. We rowed and he said he was leaving unless I said I believed that him staying out all night, no call, nothing, didn't mean he'd slept with any of them.
In the Autumn he asked me to marry him. I accepted and then he said that maybe we should have a baby of our own. Not that he didn't love DD (he doted on her, loved her to bits, as if she were his flesh and blood) and I lept at the chance to give him his own family. We got pregnant straight away and had a fabulous time telling friends and family....... it was all going really well. He stopped hitting me, the calls stopped, the nights away stopped, the women turning up, everything. It was as if the baby had changed him for the better. He still smoked weed but had stopped all the other drugs.
We celebrated Christmas with my family and his friends then on boxing day, he told me to get rid of the baby. He said if I didn't he'd kick it out of me. I hadn't worked for some time, he paid for everything, even my tampons. My friends hadn't been around for a while nor my family.
I kind of had no-one to talk to but have no idea how it happened.
So, the next day I got an appointment for a few days time, went, and a few days later, terminated the baby and came home. When I got there he asked me if I was going to thank him for paying for the abortion.
I said no and got a slap for my trouble, nothing new there. That night the police were called, a domestic violence unit turned up and filmed the events. He had thrown me out onto the street, dragged me with my knickers on, out of bed and bleeding and just thrown me out.
A neighbour called the police when she saw him punching me in the face and belly. I was taken to my parents', as I refused hospita,l where DD was. He had my phone, clothes, bag, car keys, everything. I didn't see DD until the next day and she was mortified.
Three days later, I went back to him. My mum was mortified. I didn't care because he loved me and wanted me to come home to him. It was lovely for a while, we went on another holiday. I came back and was due to have an operation, all planned, on my kidneys. It went wrong and I ended up in ICU and then on the acute ward for 2 weeks, losing another 1.5 stone. I looked awaful. He came to see me most days, not all the time. DD stayed with my parents who refused to bring her to see me as I was so ill and said I would frighten her, plus the fact that they might bump into him.
When I came home, that very frist night he said he wanted sex. I said I was too sore, having had a drip and drain removed that afternoon. He said if I loved him, I'd let him. So I did. Whilst he was on top of me he told me that whilst I'd been in hospital, he'd been 'as good as gold' and that he 'hadn't touched another woman for weeks'. I didn't believe him. What did I have to do to get him to stop? Why wasn't I enough for him? I did everything he asked. Everything. I hardly saw DD.
One day, we'd fought about me not being allowed to apply for a job I'd seen (I'd not worked and had no contact with any friends or family by this point) and he really started to lose it. I said I was trying to please him by having some money so I could buy him nice things, get him treats and gifts. DD was there. He started to shout at her because she was crying. And then he lunged towards her in a real rage. I felt sick but knew I had to protect her. It was a real lightbulb moment. I saw his face, the horrid look in his eyes, I was suddenly scared that he'd hurt her, he'd kill her. I had to get her out, protect her.
That was all I needed, that was my get out of jail free card. He screamed at me that he hated me and called me a heap of names and left, said he didn't need this emotional blackmail, me protecting my own DD.
Right then and there, I knew I'd die or be seriously injured if I didn't leave. Two bags packed and a phone call to Shelter and I was on my way to the hostel.
I found out that he'd gotten his ex pregnant, and by then, I'd left him for good but needed some things that were stored in the house so went to collect them. He was there, I knew he would be. I found him, sobbing in the kitchen, in our kitchen that we'd designed together. Breaking his heart because he'd fucked up royally for the very last time. She refused a temination and had his DD against his wishes.
He absolutley meant every last tear that day. I saw in his eyes that he felt beaten. And I smiled. I walked out of that house with my belongings, leaving my key on the table in the hall, looked round one more time and closed the front door.
He didn't beg me to stay, to come back. He just said over and over that he was sorry. So very sorry. I saw in his eyes that he was hollow inside. I didn't even feel glad about it. I felt relieved. I felt tired and worn out. I felt free, I felt the wind on my face, I saw the trees, the road, the sky, I could feel my heart beating in my throat but it wasn't out of fear, it was out of love for my DD.
Three month's later, we got our own house. Just the two of us, DD and I. We had so much fun decorating, she chose her own room colours, we went on holiday, the tow of us, we had days out. I got a job! A real job, for us, so we had money. We made new friends. She settled at school. She slept through the night and she held me so close. We had so much fun, just us.
That was the worst 2.5 years of my life but I'm 7 years on from that person, from that relatiosnhip. I met my now DH 6 years ago and we've been married 5. I didn't think I'd ever want to be with anyone again. I thought I didn't need anyone. But then I met DH, we wer friends for a while first and then I just fell in love. Real love. I've never been happier. I'm safe. I'm loved, I'm resoected and I'm trusted. I have friends and family and we share so much. DD adores DH and we have DS together too.
Life is exactly what I ddin't realise I wanted but absolutley love. I wouldn't change a thing about my life now, well maybe a few more hours in the day.
One thing I'll take with me from my time with TF is that he used to say 'First you fuck their body, then you fuck their mind' and he would actively seek out single mothers to 'rescue'. He wanted to save them from themselves by giving them everything. He'd watch them for weeks, find out about them, ask after them and find out who they knew.
What an absolute charmer eh?
I guess what he didn't realise is that there was a breaking point with me.
I saw him once, in a supermarket. I nearly threw up right there. He said 'Hey Mouse, how are you? How's DD? Great to see you'
I stood there and said very slowly 'You have no right to ask me those questions, you are pathetic and I'm not going to waste my breath on you, goodbye' and turned around, headed straight for the loos and puked for England.
I also found out that he still has a photo of DD in his lounge. He tells people that she is his daughter, who died.
Sick bastard. I hope he rots in hell.
Thank you for reading if you got this far.