Bloody, broken and alone three years ago that's what I was; laying in a hospital bed waiting to be discharged. I had been in an abusive relationship off and on with someone who definitely didn't respect me or value me and I continued going back because I believed every word of hatred that spewed from his mouth. What he didn't realize was that every name he called me or insult he'd thrown at me I had already done to myself, it was like the demons in my head had come to life only this time they were violent, dangerous and sadistic.
It was all over, two years of on and off torture done, just like that. I had finally made that step and called the police, it cost me a crushed larynx, a bloody nose and a black eye to get help. As he choked me I could hear the sirens in the background coming and I remember thinking. "They're too late." I thought I was going to die, I was numb, but something held on, something scratched and clawed it's way out of his grip, something I hadn't felt for a long time, me.
When the police got there, he had already run off like a coward. I was on the floor, the 911 operator still trying to get me to respond but I couldn't, I didn't have anything left, I had fallen too far. They put me in the back of the ambulance and soon I was gone, in the dark floating. When I woke up everything seemed so bright, almost too much everything seemed harsh. A nurse came in to take my blood pressure and when she was done I got up to use the rest room. I didn't try to talk or even make eye contact with the woman sharing my room.
As I looked back at woman in the mirror, I didn't recognize myself, this woman was weak, she was disgusting, she was stupid and easily manipulated. I hated her, I hated her bruises, her scars, I hated to vacant expression on her face, the utter lack of will, no fire left. When I realized she was me, I broke down, how could I face anyone looking like this? I cried until I puked. It was like he was poison and I had to get it out of my system some how.
The same nurse came back later with my discharge papers, I didn't say anything to her. I simply signed where she told me to. She asked me if I wanted her to try and cover up some of the injuries on my face, that she had some makeup in her bag. At first I didn't understand and I just nodded my head out of habit. When she came back she had an entire make up artists bag with her, turns out she was paying her way through medical school while being a beautitian on the side. We didn't exchange a single word, I just let her work and she just let me be. Twenty minutes later when she held up the mirror, the other woman was gone.
You would never know I had just been through a life altering ordeal, I looked...normal again. Not just not banged up but I looked like someone just going shopping or to the grocery store. It was like magic.I never knew her name and she never gave it, to this day I think she was an angel. It took makeup to make me realize that the real me was always there, under the scars and the pain and the blood. That day something clicked, the part of me that doesn't take bull shit, that lives life out loud and proud, that takes no prisoners was born. I started wearing better clothes, shoes and even underwear. Nothing was too good or too bold.
A year later I reconnected with Mr. Big, I call him that because he is the biggest relationship I have ever had, spanning time zones, cities and even other people. It was Big who would become the love of my life, the inspiration for this blog and my partner in everything. Without that day in the hospital I might have let myself go back to my nightmare, I might have settled from the numbness of existing but because someone cared enough to remind me of how beautiful I am to them as a human being, I decided to settle for nothing less than living my dream.
-Chubby Girl In The World