Untold

we all have something to hide

caught me telling all those lies

deep dark secrets kept inside

a young girls soul nearly died

your freedom was his to take

the choice is not yours to make

you have made a huge mistake

we know that your heart will ache

even though the road was long

realized what he did was wrong

I learned how to get along

memories are never gone

I dreamed of going out west as a young adult. I was going to live in the big city; get a degree in massage therapy; start up my own business. I would learn what it meant to be independent.  I would be taking the non-traditional path. High school was finished, I had graduated with honors and found a job lifeguarding in the Kawartha Lakes area. I hadn’t applied to any colleges or universities. My motivation was lost somewhere in my naivety.  I thought I had it good – a good job, a car, a home, a boyfriend.  I didn’t care that my boyfriend was 35 and I was seventeen turning eighteen.  He told me it didn’t matter what other people thought; this love was real and nothing could come between us. It was a relationship filled with hurt, secrets, lies, seduction, and abuse. I wanted to get out of it so badly, but I felt so guilty and ashamed that I had let it go on for so long. I wanted to tell somebody how I really felt, but there was nobody to talk to. I hated myself for what I had become and I blamed myself for leading him on. I made him angry whenever I got upset about the things he wanted to do to me; but I couldn’t free myself of him, there was no way out. I was so scared. It all happened so slowly; there was always something new to try, like taking the next step. He wanted to see if I would go there, he would pressure me until I gave in. He had so much control over me. Until the day I lost my innocence.  I had never experienced these things before; I was so hooked. He didn’t have to ask anymore, I kept wanting. We continued this for months. I dealt with it by locking myself in my room with my journal, and I would cry as my words hit the page. When I got depressed and it became too overwhelming I would hurt myself anyway I knew how. I lost interest in hanging out with my friends or spending time with my family; I didn’t want them to know what I was doing. It was our dirty little secret. I don’t know where the summer went, but it quickly vanished and so did the fall. It was around Christmas time when my parents found out; or decided this had to end. I was so embarrassed.  Leaving home soon became a reality; they had already started making plans for me to move to Fort McMurray (where my cousin lived). I would have to find a job and a place to live. I didn’t want to leave my home, my parents, the friends I once had. I went along with it with no idea what I was getting myself into. But this was my only chance to escape, to start over fresh. I would be leaving home at the age of eighteen, not by choice but because of the choices I had made and the situation I had gotten myself into. I said goodbye to everyone. I had no idea who I was; I had no idea that I would ever figure it out. Leaving home I was extremely sad and regretful; I lacked any confidence or self-esteem. Things got worse before they got better. I was working a lot of hours and could afford to go out to the bar with my new friends almost every night. I partied hard and for the most part I stayed out of trouble; well, at least I didn’t end up in jail. I ended up having a boyfriend for a while, which kept me on my best behaviour although he treated me like garbage. I was still not happy for the longest time – I started to become overly critical of my body. I tried a diet of cigarettes, chewing gum, coffee and Jell-O; I tried making myself sick or running myself out of energy, anything to control my weight. It kept me occupied.  Little did I know at the time but I was figuring out how not to live. I dated this other guy for a while – he was smart, funny, good looking, and great in bed. But I had just found out that I had been accepted to a college in Vancouver (my dream City) for a business administration/hospitality program; and I had to leave town. By then I had healed the wounds of my past and I was ready to move forward – this time, by choice.