I Don’t Want to Go Back

Names have been changed.

I was 13 and living in my second group home when I met Jose. 

I wasn’t looking for boys; my mother had bad taste in men so I refused to give most boys a chance. 

Things changed with Jose though. He was close with my best friend in the group home and he was a cool guy, kind and handsome. He gave me a reason to stay out at night and took my mind away from reality. I preferred the group home to my family home but it wasn’t a pleasant place to be in. Jose was a good distraction from my negative thoughts. 

I remember a long walk we went on in the first week of us hanging one on one. We ended up near Brookfield mall, which I’ve always loved. My feet were killing me, but the view was beautiful, and the sun was shining.

“Manhattan is beautiful, thank you for bringing me here,” I said, smiling from ear to ear. That moment felt straight from a fairytale.

“You deserve the world, that’s why. I promise I’ll never do anything less than that,” he said. We made our relationship official by becoming boyfriend and girlfriend on April 5th, 2023. 

It all felt too good to be true. Everyone at my group home knew him as a street kid. They told me he was a player and that he was dangerous. But I felt like they had him all wrong. He was sweet, and I was falling in love with him more every day. 

Perfect, at First

After a couple months, I introduced Jose to my mother, who loved him. He was polite, and my grandma thought he was charming. I would spend all day every day with him, and stopped hanging out with my friends and seeing my family. They told me they thought I was distancing myself from them. I was, but I thought that was normal because I was just “spending time with my boyfriend.” 

It came time for me to be sent to another group home, but it was too far from my school and I didn’t want to live with my family. So, when Jose asked me to move in with his family, I said yes right away. By this point, we had already been sleeping together. 

Three months after we’d first started dating, we moved in together. When I first looked at his family’s apartment in the Bronx, I fell in love. It was big. I felt like a queen!

“My stepdad stays in the room in the back, we’ll be in this room,” he said to me. It was his stepdad’s apartment, and his brother also lived there. 

I was surprised his family didn’t care about me moving in. But I figured they must know I was special to him.

A few weeks later, I turned 14. I didn’t speak to my parents or my family, because they disapproved of me living with Jose. They thought I was too young to be moving in with a boyfriend. 

I was sad, but Jose made it the best birthday he could. We went to 42nd street, stayed out all night and had fun. Everything felt so perfect. I was living with my boyfriend. I felt at peace. What could go wrong? 

That’s until things weren’t peaches and cream no more. Soon, Jose and I started arguing about little things. He began calling me “b-tch” or “ho.” Upset, I would leave the house, only to have him chase after me. 

Things Change

We got stuck in the same routine: wake up, take a shower, argue for hours, smoke. It felt like running on a hamster wheel. Then, one day, we started physically fighting. I was still in touch with my ex-boyfriend, which Jose didn’t like. He saw me texting him and grabbed my phone from me. When I tried to take it back, he shoved me away. From then on, our already abusive relationship deteriorated even more. 

I started to stay in the house even more, and hesitate from speaking my opinion. I stopped hanging out with my guy friends and even Jose’s brother. If Jose was watching me, I refrained from using social media. I felt scared and would flinch at little things. Some of my friends noticed the changes in me and tried to say something but I didn’t want to listen. We had only been together for four months and already, Jose felt like a totally different person. 

A few months later, Jose told me he didn’t want to live with his stepfather anymore. He suggested renting an apartment, just the two of us. I didn’t want to go back to my family home and so I agreed. Living on our own together resulted in us having more fights. I felt stuck, as if nobody would save me. It felt like everyone already knew what was happening between us but no one chose to do anything about it.

If You Loved Me, You Wouldn’t Leave Me 

Most nights, I would sleep alone while Jose was out working. One day I was trying to stay up waiting for him. His friend Jason came over, we smoked together, and I fell asleep. I was so tired I forgot to lock the door. 

At some point, I heard the old noisy door creak. 

“Jason?” 

I heard Jose’s voice but was confused why he said his friend’s name and not mine. I looked at the bottom of the bed and saw Jason sleeping. 

“Are you dead serious?” Jose said to me. 

I was so high I almost fell asleep while he talked. 

“When did he lay down?”

“Babe I–”

The slap was so fast I tumbled to the floor. 

“Bae we were doing nothing!” 

Jason tried to tell him the truth but even his best friend couldn’t get through to him. I felt hands and feet on me. All I could do was scream and kick. I thought Jose was going to kill me that day. Eventually, he left the house. I left too and wandered the streets. 

Later, I went back and he flung his door open. I noticed the smell of weed and liquor. I hated when he drank because it wasn’t good for him. I tried not to judge but I hated how he always counted on me to save him.

“You know I love you right?” Jose said. 

The question was more of a statement. To be honest, I didn’t know if he loved me. I wanted to say, if you loved me why did you beat on me?

But, instead I said, “Yes, and I love you too.” I watched his eyes but also his fists. 

“You don’t love me, if you did you wouldn’t leave me. You know I’m not OK!” 

He had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, but he rarely took his meds. I felt like I had a responsibility toward him, since his mother and father didn’t seem to care. And his friends sucked too. I felt like I had to care more than a normal girlfriend, even though I didn’t get the same care in return. 

Forced to Take a Break

We kept fighting like this for months. He had multiple bipolar breakdowns. Some days we struggled to survive because of a lack of money. He used to rob people to make money, which I didn’t judge him for. I didn’t think I could change him but I felt like I could keep him safe if I accompanied him. So I decided to join him in his escapades. 

One night, we were in Brooklyn with his friends. It was about 3 or 4 a.m. and we were robbing anyone who looked scared. But then someone we robbed called the cops. 

Long story short, we all got locked up. I eventually ended up at Rising Ground, a residential facility, for a year. Jose and I didn’t officially break up and I would regularly see him and talk to him at school. But over time, he started becoming more distant. I was confused. 

I didn’t want to break up with Jose but found him pulling away and was forced to take a break from the relationship. At first, I cried all the time. I missed him but I also felt hate for Jose and blamed him for my situation. I blamed myself, too. 

But taking space from him helped me. The amazing staff at Rising Ground tried to open my eyes to reality. They helped me come up with goals for my life and encouraged me to refrain from speaking to Jose. I wanted to find peace and self-love and prioritize myself rather than only thinking of other people. 

One day, I woke up and something clicked in me. I realized that maybe not being with Jose was for the best. 

But a part of me still loved him. 

When I got permission to visit home, I found out through my sister that Jose had been sleeping around with my friends. I was already dealing with the fallout of being locked up and hearing that Jose was cheating on me hurt me a lot. If I were in his shoes, I would never do the same. 

I’ve now been released from Rising Ground and am living with my mother. The truth is that things aren’t always easy. I’m trying to make things work. I’m talking to a new boy and am taking it slow. I don’t want to go through what I went through with Jose again. 

I’m also aware that I’ve gone through something that so many people don’t experience. My friends sometimes romanticize abusive relationships, which makes me upset. “No, trust me, that’s not what you want!” I say, angrily. I’m not proud of what I’ve been through the past two years, but I try to keep in mind that I’m the young woman I am today because of those experiences. One thing I’ve learned is that you should never stay in an abusive relationship because you “feel bad” for your partner.

If I’m being honest, there are days I want to give Jose another chance. He still contacts me sometimes, telling me he loves me and that he has changed. On those days, I try to remind myself of how bad things were. I’m still in touch with some of the staff at Rising Ground, who along with my social worker and mother, help me keep my feelings in check. I don’t want to be back in that situation. 

Overall, I’m glad that I made it out.