Grieving my teen years: part one

Even though these events started happening 30 years ago, they've popped up big time right now. I'm seriously in the middle of finally grieving this pivital part of my life.

I met this guy Val when I was 15. He moved in two doors down from me. He was pretty good looking and kind of shy. He played football for his High School. That was at a time when all the neighborhood kids that age were pairing up. He seemed like a good prospect to me. I thought he was funny and what I liked best about him is that he befriended the neighborhood nerd. He brought Greg into the circle of friends that used to hang out together and after a while he wasn't just Val's friend he was all of ours.

We became a "couple" and after a while there was pressure from him to have sex. I wasn't ready but somehow got talked into it. It wasn't a horrible experience but I didn't get what the big deal was. I mostly felt guilty that I had had pre-marital sex and since I was taught that I was supposed to save myself for marraige, we were now committed to get married some day. Looking back I also knew, some where inside, that I had given in to something important that I wasn't ready for to please someone else. I bit of me died that day.

He said he'd "pull out" to avoid preganancy. He wasn't always successful. I got pregnant. I was so scared. There was no way I wanted anyone to know. The thought of the disappointement from my parents and other relatives loomed over me like a huge ax. I was the good kid. The one that didn't cause problems. They had bragging rights with me and loved this position.

I made all the arrangements for the abortion myself. At 16 years old I drove myself to the clinic even though I was told to have someone there to drive me home. I don't remember why Val didn't take me. I went through the entire thing by myself. When I woke up from the procedure I felt more alone, scared and sad than I ever had before. I cried into the huge breasts of a nurse there who held me and said "It's OK baby, you let it out."

I drove myself home, stopping once to throw up. I pretented that nothing had happened. I had my ailbi in place, had birth control pills, and tried to move on.

I stopped caring for Val but stayed because I thought that it would be a sin to leave him and ever be with anyone else. I was already in big enough trouble with God because of the abortion. Val tried to break it off with me once and I got crazy upset and begged him not to go. The whole church/virgin/marraige thing was really embeded in my brain. He stayed.

After a while it was obvious that I didn't want to be with him. I tried to break it off but this time he did the begging. I stayed. Tried to leave again. I got the "I can't live without you and might kill myself" speech. I stayed. When I approached leaving him again later I was told if I left he was going to tell everyone, inclucing my parents, about the abortion. I couldn't have this. I stayed in this black mailed relationship for almost a year. I gave up my power and knew that if I didn't pretend to be happy with him, the big secret, the one that would wreck my life, would be revealed. I didn't realize then that staying with him was wrecking me much more.

There was one time when I simply couldn't take it anymore and told him so. He looked at me and said he was going right then to tell everyone all my secrets. He turned to walk away. I was seething with anger and fear. I grabbed him by the shoulder, spun him around and slugged him square on the nose. He fell and I started running away. He called my name and said he needed help. I looked back. He's sitting there, holding his nose and has blood runing down his arms onto his shirt. I went back, helped clean him up and took him to the doctor the next day. His nose was broken. We told everyone he fell down some stairs.

to be continued...