Adapting to Manipulation…

I am changing the names to protect those who are declared innocent until proven guilty. (HA!)

It wasn’t until long after this relationship had ended that I realized that I was the victim. For so long I had adapted to his manipulation. He always made me feel like I was the problem. And because I was adapting, I believed him.

If I could create a platform for younger girls, it would definitely go something like this “Protecting girls against men who don’t possess the capacity to admit when they are wrong” and “Protecting girls against men who don’t respect their own mothers”. This guy fits both categories. And we will call him “Jordan”.

On the surface, Jordan fit exactly what I wanted in a man. Looking back at it, I can honestly say I was a little shallow… {Cause he ain’t all that cute}. The most important attribute was his family background. It was similar to mine, so I just knew that we would be perfect for each other.

I was completely wrong, he was mentally and verbally abusive and I had adapted to accepting that because I wanted him to think I was “wifey” material. He used my insecurities against me to get what he wanted from me…. Money, transportation, food… YOU NAME IT. I had to bring everything to the relationship table while I was comfortable with him bringing nothing but that “similar family background”. LIESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS !!! I had to get out of this mess and fast. So I started backing away.

When he noticed the distance, he became angry. (He was always angry) So while my parents were gone out of town, he showed up to their house to talk to me. He gave me the usual “I’m sorry baby, I’ve never had anybody to love me like you. Everybody that I’ve ever loved always left me” sob story.  I had made it up in my mind that I wasn’t going back this time. While he was talking to me, I was having a mental conversation with myself. Saying, “Fool don’t you fall for this mess again.”

We are sitting in his car talking and he begins to drive.

I didn’t respond. I was so focused on not responding while he was talking that I didn’t realize that we were pulling up at his house. (on the other side of freaking town) He gets out of the car and goes in the house. I’m just sitting there.  Ten minutes pass and there was no sign of him. I was confused as to what was going on. Why did he leave me in the car? What is he doing in there? I had no phone on me, no shoes, and this loser left me in this stinky ole car with no key. It’s nearing 11 PM.

I finally decided to walk to the door and he lets me in as if he was expecting me.

“What are you doing? Take me home, now!”, I yelled.

He never spoke a word. He grabbed me and slammed me down on his lightly used air mattress on the living room floor (Tuh). I knew where he wanted this to go. I fought him with all I had in me (which was very little compared to him). He kept trying. He didn’t take my “no” seriously because unfortunately I had said “no” in the past and didn’t mean it. Before I knew it, my pants were at my ankles and I kept thinking how I’d lost. He’s literally trying to rape me. Who is going to believe me? He is my boyfriend, right?  Wasn’t he?

When he went in to kiss me, I bit down on his lip so hard, blood leaked out… which made him ease up, grab his face, and call me out of my name (which wasn’t unusual). When he let up, I ran out of the house as fast as I could. With no shoes, no phone, and nowhere to go; I was hysterical. How did this pastor’s daughter find herself in this situation? I begin to walk down the street (BAREFOOT). Crying. Embarrassed. Humiliated. Soon, his car pulls up beside me and offered to take my “raggedy ___” home. I had no choice but to take the offer. He took me home, I got out and I haven’t spoken to him since.

This was 2010.

Although, he wasn’t able to go through with the rape, I was the victim of much more than that situation. He abused me throughout the whole relationship. And because I was manipulated, my mind wouldn’t let me grasp the fact that he was the problem; not me. Many women have faced this or are facing this now. You’ve adapted to his manipulation without knowing that it’s MANIPULATION. You believe what he says about you, instead of what GOD says about you. You’re too pretty for this sis. I was too.

There’s hope, baby girl. He’s not the one. Wait on God and run fast. I love you.


This is dedicated to my brother, Corbin Patrick Williams. He’s the only person I told this story to. He protected me that night. I love you, forever.

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Meet Mrs. Jasmine J. White. An enthusiastic combination of quick wit and social consciousness, Mrs. White is bringing her unique perspective of being a #MotherLoverSisterFriend to IYU’s curriculum. A fiery, yet vulnerable, black woman with so much to say. Connect with her on Twitter and Instagram.

  • Shellina
    Posted at 02:05h, 27 July Reply

    This is a GREAT post on a topic I can personally relate to. I admire your strength to open up about such a sensitive subject

  • Corbin
    Posted at 21:13h, 26 July Reply

    It’s soooooo hard reading this. Fighting with all kinds of emotions. Sad, angry. You name it. I’m glad God kept you in his arms that night and no one close to you knew at the time because we probably would be in jail. I love you too sis. Putting the story out only shows how strong you have become.

  • CrissyG
    Posted at 16:07h, 26 July Reply

    Jasssss!! This is awesome and the “dedicated to my brother” almost took me out😭❤️❤️❤️🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾

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