You spend over a year waiting to write a blog post, the blog post and when the time comes, you throw away draft after draft. So I'll just get right to the bare bones of it.
In October 2015, in what seems another life, I walked into my local police station and reported my ex boyfriend of six years. I told them about the physical and mental abuse I suffered while living with him and the effect it has had on me since we broke up.
They believed me. They took me seriously and sat with me for almost 10 hours collecting my statement. They spoke to my sister, my best friend, my ex boyfriend's friends and people I went to college with. They got the medical records that showed the suicide attempt that was shrugged off by A&E and the perforated eardrum that I lied away.
He pleaded "not guilty" and it took 15 months to get to court. So many times, I wanted to write about what I was going through but couldn't. As the court date loomed, I bought a new outfit and got my hair cut. I mentally prepared myself to see him for the first time in two years and talked my family through what to expect on the day.
Three days before our court date, he changed his plea to "guilty". I still don't know what deal he's taken with the Sheriff's office because I don't care. He will have a criminal record that says he assaulted me, which is all I wanted in the first place. Other women will be able to ask the police about his history of violence and my statement will be filed forever as future evidence against him should another complaint be made.
I'll write about this again, of course, but I don't want this to become an abuse blog. So I'm currently writing a book and there will be more information about that very soon! Thank you to everyone who knew this was going on and supported me. The relief is phenomenal.