"...if it weren't for your attitude problem."

Junior year of high school I started dating the sweetest, smartest, and most handsome guy I'd ever met. It was heaven. But soon we started fighting a lot and we broke up and got back together a million times.

In April and we were supposed to be married. I got a little bit of cold feet, so he called off our wedding. I was devastated. 

About a month later, he started acting suspicious. He was on his phone a lot, changed his password, and never let me touch it. I saw him texting another girl that he wanted to be with her. He packed all of his stuff up in the middle of the night and left.

Late June he left for basic training for the Army. He messaged me the morning he shipped out, saying, "If you stay faithful while I'm gone, we might get married when I come back. You're my one, if it weren't for your attitude problem."

I waited two months and heard nothing from him. That was a month ago. Now I'm with a really sweet guy who goes out of his way to make sure I know he loves me every single day and that he thinks I'm the most beautiful creature on Earth. We're planning on getting married on Halloween.
 

"There is just something about you..."

At the end of high school and beginning of college, I dated a guy who I thought I loved. He was intelligent and seemed to really understand me when nobody else did. The first year was great, but after that, he started becoming angry easily and yelling at me a lot. Eventually, he started hitting me and raping me.

Most nights ended in him crying and apologizing. One night, however, he looked at me and said. "There is just something about you that makes good guys do bad things."

I'm now married to a great guy who helped me escape that other relationship. Though my husband has told me it wasn't my fault, I still wonder sometimes what it was about me that caused the abuse. I don't think I will ever be 100% okay.

"...until I fit in."

I've always admired my mom. She married my dad, moved to the US from Mexico, and got her citizenship via naturalization. She worked hard to learn English, and worked even harder to provide for four us after a bitter divorce.

At one point she was working three jobs, and she still always showed us the positive even though we were really poor at the time. She often faced a lot of racism in our small town because of her (and our) heritage. 

One day, I asked her how she does it. A Hispanic woman in a small, Midwestern community making ends meet with a smile on her face, not letting the haters bring her down. She looked at me, smiled and said, "If I'm in a new place, I squish and squeeze until I fit in." 

That's always stuck with me. She made a place for herself and worked hard for it. I'm lucky if I'll ever grow to be half the woman she is.

"Nobody will ever want you or love you."

I have struggled with anxiety and depression my whole life. I started using food to cope, and I ended up gaining about 50 pounds, which only made my depression worse. 

One day, my sister texted me after she'd recently moved out. She knew how I felt about my weight, but she wrote this anyway: "You're a fat piece of shit and nobody will ever want you or love you." 

To this day, I can't get over those words, and I'm not sure I ever will. I have a crush, and every time I think about talking to him or just saying hello, I remember those words and I shut down completely. Anytime I wonder if I'll find love, I think about what my sister said. 
 

"Not until I'm finished."

My pregnancy was not easy, and afterwards we followed the doctor's orders to abstain from sex for six weeks after I delivered. We waited like eager teenagers, and once I was cleared by the doctor, we could hardly wait to get our hands on each other. 

The sex was painful. I tried to get through it, but couldn't, and finally I had to call it quits. "Stop," I said.  

"Not until I'm finished."

I hear it every time now, in the back of my mind. A growl of need I couldn't meet, but had to anyway. 

"Not until I'm finished."

"Johnsons don't cry."

I grew up without much physical affection, so I was unusually attached to my first boyfriend. When I was 16 and we broke up, I couldn't accept the fact that this breakup would be our last of many. To me, the daily sex, hugs, and kisses were an addiction. I needed them to feel loved.

When I finally processed that this was final, I was sobbing in my room. My father - drunk, as was typical of him - might have thought he was comforting me when he saw me and said, "Forget him! Johnsons* don't cry."

After that moment, I was ashamed to cry. I was ashamed to show any emotion other than hostility. 

I'm 21 now. And I'm still not able to let myself cry. I fight the tears until I have mental breakdowns. My sadness now automatically converts to rage.

I have some joy and love, thanks to my fiancé, but I fear I'll never be normal again. I'll never be able to cry openly and easily.

Because Johnsons don't cry.

*Names have been changed. 
 

"You'll never have a boyfriend."

My mom would often show my sister how to put on makeup and dress nicely. I would sit on the bed, outside the closed door, and listen. One day, I finally got up the nerve to ask them, "Hey, could you guys show me how to do that sometime?" My mom looked at me like I was crazy, and my sister asked, "Why should we? You'll never have a boyfriend." 

This was just another moment in a long list of times they had diminished me. But somehow, I didn't believe them. I mean, I thought it was possible that I might not be very attractive, but I thought that there was somebody for everybody, right?

I met my husband when I was 29. We married when I was 32. I'm 60 now. Our life together has been like a romance novel. He's a wonderful, amazing, lovely man with a Scottish accent and a kind heart. We've had our share of hard times, but somehow we have laughed through it and hung on to each other. 

Everyone in my family acts amazed that I was the one that ended up with the wonderful, stable and happy marriage. They are all jealous of the daily love letters and the way he takes special care of me. 

What stuck with me was that even though those unkind words were spoken to me, I simply chose not to believe them. I did struggle with low self esteem a bit, but it didn't stop me from enjoying life! 

Harsh words lose their power when you just decide, "I'm not going to get angry. I'm just not going to believe that."
 

"How could she do that to you?"

My now-husband and I became pregnant with our son when I was 20 and he was 22. We were young and it wasn't ideal, but we loved each other, had been together for a year, and were already prepared to raise a family; it just happened a little earlier than we'd thought. 

My husband called his mother to tell her the news, and I sat very close to him, trying to hear her reaction. I never expected what came next: 

"How could she do that to you?" she asked. "Doesn't she know you can't afford it?" I stood up, but I could still hear her. "You do know that when she leaves you, you're going to have to pay her, right?" 

I don't even know what my husband said because I remember being so shocked and hurt that I walked out of the room and sat outside. 

My son is 8 now, and my husband and I have been together for a little over 10 years, married for 5, and bought our first home 2 years ago. We are still very much in love, and we are incredible parents.

In that whole time, my mother in law has said countless stupid and mean things to me. But this comment has always stuck with me and always will. 
 

"It's either him, or being alone forever."

Growing up, my mom and I would argue about my weight all the time. She would tell me things like, "No one could ever love a fat ass like you," or, "You'll end up alone if you don't lose weight."

When I was a freshman, a senior guy who I met in band developed a crush on me. My mom was so excited, and I'm pretty sure that she was the one who fell in love with him. 

She was pretty insistent that I give him a chance, even though I wasn't very comfortable with the idea because he creeped me out. She said, "He's the only man that's ever going to be interested in you. It's either him, or being alone forever." I didn't want to be alone, so I settled. We started dating. I graduated three years later, and we got married that summer. 

We were married for three years, and my depression got worse every single day. He was unsupportive and expected me to do everything, even though I often worked longer hours than he did. He decided that smoking weed and passing out on the couch was more important than pulling his weight. I never enjoyed sex, and I faked orgasms for six years. 

I finally got up the courage to ask for a divorce. He did not take it very well. He blamed all of our issues on me. When I told my mom about the divorce, she went insane. She told me that I would die alone if I went through with it. 

Fast forward to now: I've started dating the most amazing man who appreciates everything I do for him, but never expects it. I'm actually happy for once in my life. I've been happy for nearly a year now. 

Now I'm proving my mother wrong, every single day.
 

"At least they don't beat us."

One day I was complaining to my mother about something that my husband did or didn't do. My mother replied, "We should both be thankful for the husbands we have. At least they don't beat us."

In that moment I realized that that was my mother's goal for me. That I would find a man who wouldn't beat me. It didn't matter if he made me happy, if he helped provide a stable life for our family, or if he helped me grow as a person. All that mattered was that he didn't beat me.

I will never forget the day when I was told that little gem.