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After class had begun, I heard the door swing open, which was at the front of the classroom. He stayed at the door and looked toward the teacher and said to him in front of the whole class, "I need to speak to that fucking whore right there." He pointed at me, then he turned to me and said, "Bitch, get your fucking stupid ass out here now." Everybody turned and looked at me in shock but nobody said a word. It didn't begin immediately, in fact, there weren't any signs until we had been dating for almost a year.

If you've been involved in a violent intimate partnership, whether it's heterosexual, gay, or lesbian, write what happened and I'll publish your story.

I knew that it existed in the world and I knew it was bad if it happened, but I had no idea it was called Domestic Violence, and I definitely had no idea how deeply dangerous, manipulative, gradual and lonely being abused was, until I met Phil. With the amazing upbringing I had experienced it was difficult for me to imagine living in a violent environment.

I wanted to support him and be there for him in any way he needed me.

We know that sharing your true stories of abuse helps you to heal and helps those living in abuse realize they’re not alone.

There are several ways to share your true stories of abuse depending on where your abusive relationship now stands and how you want to tell your story.

The first step in domestic violence is to charm the victim; the second is to isolate the victim. I began believing I deserved the abuse, and thought everybody else believed I was who he said I was.

The hell became so familiar that it was easier to stay rather than leave.

I happily took on the task of making him feel loved and supported no matter what, it was me who was going to show him unconditional love.

Our relationship started as a dream, we were young and thought I was in love. Yes we were obsessed with each other, I knew that drove my parents crazy, I wanted to be with him 24/7, and he with me.

Anna: It’s quite a terrible thing to admit that you have been in two abusive relationships. Kaz: I began to believe that it was my fault and felt like I was in this rollercoaster that I couldn’t get off.

One winter day during my junior year, I found out that he had cheated on me again. He became enraged as I walked away to my class but he didn't follow me. In that moment, I had two choices: I could either sit there and continue to be belittled in front of everyone because he wasn't going to leave, and nobody else was going to say or do anything, or I could walk out and be shamed anyway because I had given into his threats. As we walked down the hall, he spit in my face, pulled my necklace off my neck, threw it in the trashcan and he threw me up against the lockers. Mine is a story of emotional, psychological, and physical abuse.