Tonight I have decided to get brutally honest. No more hiding behind a facade. Which is very fitting on this Halloween night. All of us at one time or another place a mask over our face. Even if it's a simple, "I'm fine" when in reality we want to burst into tears, or lock ourselves in a closet for eternity.

I have felt since a young age that bad things happened to me, so that I could have empathy for others. So that one day I might help someone else who is also hurting, more than likely in a deeper way than me. But now, at 25, I look around and see so little that I have helped. So little I have accomplished. And that is why I started this blog. To offer support to other women who have been or are in the situation I was in.

I was a young naive 19 year old. He was the same. We attended the same college. The first thing I thought when I was introduced to him was, "Gosh he has the prettiest eyes I have ever seen." And so a crush was born. After that my roommate and I would go over to his frat house, we went to a very small Christian university here in Texas, to watch movies. Another friend, Jennie, would accompany us sometimes. I confided in her that I had a huge crush on the boy, Jeff.

I wasn't good with letting people know I was interested. I had never had a boyfriend just about two serious crushes. So what I felt were obvious attempts at flirtation seemed to not be. I arrived at Chapel one day to discover from my roommate that Jennie and Jeff were dating. They dated off and on for that full semester. My heart continually being crushed when they'd get back together.

But after the Christmas holidays things were over completely for them. He and I were able to become friends again. And on February 7th we were a couple. He adored me. I adored him. We were happy and inseparable. Within 3 weeks he told me he was in love with me. I didn't return it for a few weeks.

Within three months of dating we knew we were madly in love and were going to get married. In a hotel on our way home driving back from his parent's in WV we both lost our virginity. It made us even closer and life was never the same.

My parent's had their reserves. And when Jeff asked their permission my step-dad gave it, and then withdrew it a week or so later. Of course I blamed my mom. She is a whole other story, but at the time I did not trust any of her judgment, because she was crazy. It's tough to explain right now, but someday I can fill y'all in on her story.

But Jeff proposed anyway. My parent's refused to go to the wedding, so my grandparent's had it at their church. In May of '05 we were married.

During the months of engagement, despite my intense hesitation, Jeff and his mother talked me in to moving up to WV. I knew I wouldn't like it, but his family had been much more welcoming towards me to come into their family, than mine to Jeff. And I was promised better job opportunities, since many up there do not have but maybe high school educations. And of course it is cheaper to live there. So after much convincing I said, yes.

In June after being hectically married a month we made the move to West Virginia. Jeffrey, myself, and our beautiful orange tabby, Mr. Incredible. It was cheaper to live. We had a two story house (bottom story a fully finished basement) for only $400 a month. But the job thing was not as easy. It took me 4 or 5 months to find a job, and even that one wasn't steady, though I enjoyed it.

In July, a mere two months after we wed the abuse started happening. Jeff's anger took a whole new spin I had never seen, and I wonder if he had ever seen it before then either? Many times I would try to sleep in our extra bedroom. Feeling like I had never cried so hard in my life.

It's funny when you love someone so much. It's as though you really are blind. I would think after each abuse I would call my grandparent's in the morning and get a flight home. But he would come in and apologize, and no matter how many Lifetime movies I'd seen I fell for it. Mostly, because I wanted to. I wanted to believe he loved me, and we would get through this.

People (without knowing the full situation... only that we argued a lot) would tell me, "The first year is the hardest." So I vowed 1 year to him. I tried to get us in counseling. But we only had 2 sessions. And the second he called me a whore for liking the show Sex and the City, so I wouldn't come out of the room.

The shoving and verbal abuse continued. He wanted the house perfect, so much pressure on me. One night he tackled me like a football player. I think if I had been standing on the outside of my body it might would've looked comical. He would slam the brakes if we were arguing in the car and he wanted me to shut up. He would call me stupid.

My relationship with my mother was incredible damaged. I was stubborn and could not fathom talking to her about anything. I couldn't admit I had been wrong.

In hindsight how much clearer the world is.

Because of the length stay tuned for part 2 :)