Forever Beloved

Every year, thousands of people experience some form of stalking, whether online or in-person. According to statistics from Victims of Crimes, 15 percent of women and 6 percent of men have experienced stalking at some point in their lifetime. And 7.5 million people were stalked in one year in the United States. Without even knowing it, someone in your life – a co-worker, family member, or friend—could be being stalked right now.

Let me share with you my story.

When I was in college, my friends introduced me to a boy.  He wasn’t really my type, but I thought I would give him a chance.  Not long into the relationship, I started noticing what I know now were “red flags”.  The internet wasn’t really a thing back then and neither was Google.  I had no idea back then what “red flag” meant.

Not long after we began dating came the story of his ex-girlfriend.  He told me of how she broke up with him and it infuriated him.  So he waited until she left her house, went in and put a pan of grease on her stove and turned the burner on high.  Essentially, he burnt her house down.  Was this story true?  I have no idea.  Was it meant to scare me?  Absolutely.  And it worked.

As the relationship went on, it turned abusive mentally and physically.  At one point, he even told me he wanted to shoot my Mom because she didn’t agree with our relationship.  Just one more way for him to add fear and control.

After months of mental abuse, physical abuse and being roofied by him I couldn’t take any more.  While sitting in class chatting with my friends, I finally got up the courage to end the relationship.  With help from my friends, we devised a plan.  He lived a half-hour from me so I knew if I did it over the phone it would take him at least a half hour to get there.  If I packed my bag ahead of time and had it in my car, I could leave as soon as we hung up.  That would give me time to get in my car, get a head start and drive to a friends house.

I was scared to death, my heart felt like it was beating out of my chest, but I picked up the phone to make that call. 

With my voice shaking, I said the words.  I want to break up.  He was instantly furious; screaming, swearing, throwing and breaking things.  He dropped the phone and in the background his Mom started yelling to me to run, he was on his way to my house.  With that, I hung up the phone and ran out the door.  I drove to a friends house an hour away.

I will never forget that drive and the fear I felt the entire time.  Every car that got behind me made me anxious and terrified.  At one point the anxiety took over so much I started feeling light headed, but I knew I couldn’t pull over or he’d catch up to me.

The next morning, as I pulled into college I couldn’t wait to tell my friends how brave I had been!  As I rounded the corner and pulled into the parking lot my heart dropped.  There he was, standing in the parking lot waiting for me.  On the way there his car ran out of gas and he had spent the entire night walking the remaining 40 miles to my school.  Thank God for my friends.  They surrounded me and walked me in to my class.  As class started, I looked out the door and there he stood just outside the classroom, glaring at me.  When class was over my friends again surrounded me and walked me to my next class.  He stood there through that class, and the next two.

I remember how terrified I was that day.  I was in a classroom surrounded by people but it felt as if it was just him and I.  I went to the office and asked them to call the police and was shocked when they refused.  They didn’t want their name associated in any police report.

My only option was to call my Mom at work and see if she would come over.  Thankfully she did, and he left.

I wish I could say it ended there.

Three days later he was admitted to a local mental facility by his parents.  And for some reason I will never understand, the facility allowed him to call me collect twice.  Of course I didn’t accept the phone calls.

When he got out, the stalking began.  I was followed, I had rocks spun all over my car, I was chased, I was run off the road and I cannot count the phone calls I received.  The college I attended was nearly an hour away from his house but many times I would walk out of college to find him just sitting in the parking lot in his car.  Or if my friends and I would hang out at the local mall during a free period, I’d walk out of the mall to find him again sitting in his car.

I felt like I constantly had to look over my shoulder.

One night I was walking next door to my neighbors.  When I walked out of my door, he was standing on my porch.  And he recounted my entire previous weekend.

I will never forget the day I was home alone and he pulled in the driveway.  He pulled in so quickly and slammed on his brakes, rocks flying up onto the yard.  Thankfully, I already had all the doors locked.  I hid under my bed and called my friend as he pounded on the door, screaming for me to open it.  I told my friend what he was doing, saying and driving so if anything happened to me, someone would know.  The fear was so real, just thinking of it can take me back to that day and makes it hard to breathe.

A few months later I started dating my husband.  He told me about a night, before we met, where he had actually spoken to my stalker.  He noticed that in the stalkers car, he had lots of pictures of me taped to his dash.  When he asked him about it, my stalker told him it was his girlfriend.  He then pulled a gun out from under his seat and showed him.  He said that if he ever found her with another guy he was going to shoot the guy, shoot her and then shoot himself.

Only by the grace of God that never happened.

I eventually went to the courthouse to file a restraining order.  But quickly left in tears once the judge questioned me then scolded me, asking me why I continued to date someone if he was so horrible to me.  And that interaction even further made me feel like what happened to me was my fault.

Sharing my story isn’t a way to gain attention or pity, it’s a way of making my voice heard and taking my power back.

If you have taken the time to read my story, you can see stalking is very real, very scary and very dangerous.  Hollywood has produced romantic comedy after romantic drama telling men if they make some grand gesture, even if it’s inappropriate, they will get the girl.  These movies teach girls that crazy, unstoppable pursuit equals true love.  Not to mention the glamorization of stalking and abuse in 50 Shades of Grey.  But as Gavin de Becker, the nation’s leading expert on violent behavior says:

Persistence only proves persistence – it does not prove love. The fact that a pursuer is relentless doesn’t always mean you are special – sometimes it means they are troubled.

Stalking can affect anyone, at any point in their lives—and it can be a frightening and a life-altering horrible experience.

Over the years there have been times I’ve saw him in public.  Seeing him can send me reeling into panic mode.  Hearing someone talk about him makes anxiety take over my body.  Now, looking back almost twenty-five years later, the fear I felt still seems fresh.  Even typing this post makes me feel faintly sick as I relive the horror I felt at the time.  I still struggle at times with feeling like I constantly need to look over my shoulder.

Oh friend, if you’re in an abusive relationship I beg you to not walk but run away.  If you’re being stalked, don’t make excuses for the stalker or tell yourself you are overreacting.  And don’t allow others to downplay what you’re feeling.  Tell a friend or family member what’s happening so you have a support person and a witness.  If you are in immediate danger or are being followed, dial 911.  There’s no price for overreacting, but under-reacting to stalking can, in extreme cases, be fatal.  Visit Stalking Awareness for further resources.