That was me. Was banned from dating as a teenager. Met a really nice boy who was 3 years older than me. He came from a really poor family- wasn't "our class of people". But they were the nicest, kindest, most wonderful people. I loved this boy's family. Boy was smitten. He left poems on the front step, brought flowers to the back door... walked me home, showed up at every school activity (even practices) and cheered me on. We were close. Nrents realized they couldn't get rid of him.... weren't happy about it, but decided they could use him to control me. Since he was about to graduate, they encouraged him to join the military. He did, and shipped off. I really cared for this boy. But the minute he was gone? They USED him to control me. "You have this boyfriend.... you're not good for anything else but marrying, and he's serious about you. You're as good as married. Since you're taken, we're going to guard you. No more going out, no more fun. You're grown up now (at 16???) and when you graduate, you'll marry him, since you're too stupid for anything else." So for almost a year, I lived under house arrest. Went to school, came home, sat in my room, wrote him letters. They kept putting on the pressure, being more restrictive, Nmom started buying bridal magazines. The boy may have been undesirable, but he was the perfect excuse to control my existence. My older sister started jokingly calling them the (forgive the crude language-but it's the perfect way to put it) "Pussy Control Patrol". Nothing was going to break that virgin seal!
After a year of being locked down under house arrest, and being told my whole life was over before it even started, I panicked. I wasn't even seventeen yet. I had this boy, who was crazy about me, that I really loved, but it wasn't a relationship anymore.... It was me, being kept in storage, until I could be passed on to him... to start popping out kids, by age 19? I panicked. I spooked. I couldn't even face him, hadn't been raised about how to communicate, so I bolted. I didn't send him a letter, didn't explain anything. I just shut him out.
And that's when I met another older guy, who was just..... bad. Abusive, horrid, but I was at least getting OUT of the house.... seeing people..... and he (believe it or not) intimidated the crap out of my Nmom. She hated him, but she seemed powerless to stop me from seeing him, stop him from coming around. Maybe she let him, as a punishment for "Cheating on that good boy who loves you so much!" Which is strange, because she and Ndad wanted him gone from day one. Besides, boyfriend #2 (by their standards) was a vast improvement.... Valedictorian, worked two jobs in high school.... incredibly intelligent.... this new guy was exactly what they told me someone as stupid, and ugly as me needed. He wasn't.
Long story, but boyfriend#2 turned out to be an abuser... physically, mentally. My first sexual encounter was a rape. I told no one. Because I was already a "whore" and I knew they'd tell me I'd deserved it. Plus, I was also afraid if they did know, they'd put me back under house arrest. This guy was even stalking me. He knew my every move.... would park across the street and watch our house at night. But he honestly was the lesser of the evils.
About 18 months before graduation, Nrents packed up house, moved across the country. (Another long story.) I was living in the middle of nowhere, on a forced labor farm. They'd sent me to live with my older sister who was recently widowed. I managed to track down the first, sweet, kind, wonderful boyfriend. I sent a long letter, begging forgiveness, asking him to please let me explain. I was a mess. What was left of me, boyfriend #2 had decimated. Sweet boyfriend writes back, starts calling me. Comes to visit when he has leave. I start telling him everything. I'm still totally broken, can't really forgive myself. He's patient, offers help... offers to get me out. I can't take his help. I don't feel worthy, I don't want to take from him, hurt him again, am struggling with forgiving myself. He keeps trying.... keeps visiting. By this point, Nrents have finally showed up on the farm after selling house and wrapping up legal junk. They lose it that I dared to get in touch with sweet boyfriend. Start undermining it... telling me I'm a worthless, whoring piece of garbage... how I'm unforgivable, unworthy, shut a worthless piece of junk that I don't deserve him. I'm afraid to tell this sweet boy what they're saying.... afraid he'll decide they're right.
I graduate high school. He comes to visit again. Tells me he's going to keep visiting.... I want him in my life, but I'm keeping him at arm's length. I've never been forgiven and loved unconditionally, I can't fathom/accept that people can do that.
He leaves, and Nmom tells me, "He doesn't want you. He told me he's given up. He wanted me to tell you he won't be sending any letters. You can't fix what YOU broke. He'll never forgive you. People don't forgive what you did. He just kept coming to visit out of obligation and pity." I never hear from him again.
I'm heartbroken. I knew he'd been distant at end of visit... I didn't understand. Now I knew why.
Fast forward a couple of years. My sister and I are talking one winter night and she decides to unburden herself. Tells me that Nmom told her that sweet boyfriend had every intention of coming back after last visit. Nmom had told him I was too broken and didn't know how to let him go. She planted seeds of doubt in his mind.... Then she intercepted all the letters he sent and destroyed them. Since I was working on the farm and a job in town, I was hardly in the house and at odd times. When he'd kept trying to call, she'd kept telling him I wasn't around.
I was devastated. Shocked. It never occurred to me she would do something like that. I had total blind trust in my parents.
I tried putting myself through college (another horrid/long story) and I ended up withdrawing at the end of my first year. After that, I started drinking. Then I started doing drugs. I was completely broken, and I wanted to die. I just chose the slowest route. I had hit rock bottom and I didn't care what happened to me. I was an awful, stupid, fat, worthless person. Everything that had happened, I'd brought on myself and deserved. Nothing mattered.
Nrents are starting to lose it. I'm still working on the farm, doing all my work in exchange for a roof over my head (though no access to other living areas aside from bathroom and no food) and working a job or two in town. But I'm using whatever money I can get my hands on for drugs and alcohol. Nrents corner me about what they suspect I'm doing. Screaming and lecturing, threatening to kick me out. I just don't care anymore. Tell them so. Ask them where I'm going to go? I'm no good for anything. They can kick me out, but where am I going to sleep? My car I guess. We live in a small community with long family ties. Since I'm not costing them anything and doing slave labor, they back off because of how BAD it would look to everyone around us if my shame was public knowledge. I'm taking the downward spiral and hoping for cancer or a farm accident. I'm starting to think about other.... options.
And that's when I met my husband. He just... showed up. I started talking... he listened. He started taking me places.... just out. To the river, the lake, the park.... he'd bring sodas and sandwiches. I started riding along in his tractor when he did field work. Him asking questions, me telling him things. We start talking about more things and I find out his family is broken too. We're both broken people, we're the same. Christmas comes, and he takes me holiday shopping and we wrap presents together. (I'd never done that before- my parents don't believe in nonsense like that.) He hardly drinks, doesn't do drugs. I quit drinking first but finally quit drugs and got help after an overdose. He gave me a reason to stay sober. The idea of him not having me to talk to anymore, him being as alone again- as I had been before he came along made me not want to use anymore. We eventually married and are still together. My husband protected me from Nrents and kept me emotionally safe. He encouraged me to get help and counseling. He saved my life. He also quickly learned to hate my parents.
I'm so glad I married my husband.
But even to this day, I am mad about what my Nrents did with the phone calls and letters. Come to find out, Ndad knew what she was doing. His defense was that "he had no hand in actually doing it." But he knew. And that's just as bad. They had no right. They were manipulating me like they always have.
What I enjoy more than anything, is the fact that when my husband started coming around, they thought they could control him. He saw ALL the manipulation. My husband was raised in an abusive family with an alcoholic manipulative father. He came fully bulletproofed and with an iron will. No matter what they tried, he was untouchable. Insults hurled? He doesn't even care. He's also unshakeable. No matter how much they screamed, no matter what awful things they would say, he'd just keep his placid face and quiet voice... which only pushes them further over the edge. My husband is my hero.