Always Dressed In My Sunday Best

All my life I was a good little girl. 

I have always received high academic marks, I was always given praise by my instructors, and never gave my parents any problems. My parents always knew where I was and with whom, I never went behind their back. My homework was always done, my house chores were always completed, and I always helped my mother with the extra housework. I was  active in ballet, although for purely recreational hobby since I am short. On sundays I would always attend church with my family, always dressed in my Sunday best with a white mantilla on and not a hair out of place. My family and I would always keep the Lord’s day Holy, and spend it relaxing in each other’s company – usually depending on the season (as it limits or encourages outdoor actives in Sweden) but always reading our bibles. I love my family, they gave me such a great upbringing, and although we were conservative I never resented not being able to go out and ‘drink, do drugs, or have sex’ like all my other classmates seemed to love to boast about. 

But now I find myself curled up in someone else’s fingers, and worshipping them in the bedroom. Now that my family is visiting me I am faced with the reality that I have been constantly lying to them, deceiving them behind their backs. My parents brought me up to find virtue in my “purity”; I had always promised God I would remain a virgin until marriage. But I broke that promise when I met Ramsay. And now I let Ramsay have his way with me every night. I lie to my parents about who Ramsay really is, and all they see is his mask. I have lied to my parents about how I got my bruises. I’ve lied to police for him. And sometimes I do not attend class because Ramsay doesn’t want me to leave him. He wants to me quit school and tells me that he’ll take care of me. I told him only if he’d marry me. I always half-laugh when I say that because I don’t think he’d ever marry me. But by laughing I can conceal the reality, which is I would most definitely marry him in a heartbeat.  And he smiles and says ‘of course I will, my love’.  He is the complete opposite of me, and embodies everything I was told to avoid. I guess that makes me a rebel? But I don’t think so, he’s not the opposite because of religious or conventional reasons. It’s because he’s violent, anti-social, hateful, vengeful, and sociopathic. 

I pacify his violent psychopathic tendencies with kisses and cuddles, he can make me do anything with his touch. I find myself reflecting in my shortcomings and my denial, especially with my family visiting me. Last night we had a fight because I couldn’t spend the night with him at his home, so he came over to my house where my family was staying , and invited himself to dinner. When I excused myself to the restroom, he followed me and did something to me that was extremely vulgar. I don’t even want to write it. And then he followed downstairs and he said grace (as we always do before eating) without washing his hands. And he made the sign of the cross with those same filthy sinned hands.  And I found myself, disgusted, but extremely turned on. And he ate with those hands, and I was disgusted at him. And he did it to insult me and control me.  I don’t even want to write anymore, it’s making my stomach sick. But I found myself sad that my family thought so highly of him, and they have so much respect for him (he’s accomplished etc. etc.) but I’m the only one that knows the truth. I feel alone when he does things like that to me. Like he goes against me. On purpose. He knows I love him so much, I won’t ever betray him or go against him. 

3 thoughts on “Always Dressed In My Sunday Best”

  1. Oh wow, sweetheart. I don’t know what to say, except for the fact that we all at some point, break free and be rebels. But…if he’s physically hurting you…if he’s a sociopath…if he’s really all that, does he really love you? However, that is not my decision. You do you, sugar.

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