I hate to have to type this, but nobody believes survivors, of abuse, rape anything. So long as it's a human in a form that looks somewhat feminine they don't trust it (or anyone), not if there's a more powerful man with a reputation behind it. I sit and watch the news "16th woman to come forward and acuse Trump of Assult", but she's the fake news. She didn't report it, she told nobody, she didn't go to the cops. Why did you wait 20 years to say anything publicly? Why because of fear, shame, literal danger for speaking out. So it became evident to me I need to document my story.
My ex a poly Sci major with an MPP and desires for higher office perhaps one day, what happens when I come forward then? I'm not believed. So I write this to document it as I have before in my blog, but I need to change something slightly. I need to use a name. I need this to point to and say I'm not making it up now, he abused me, I documented it, I took pictures, I told friends, I was afraid and ashamed and never went to the cops.
My ex abused me, and it started so slowly. He called me names and talked down to me, all justified by my behavior. I wore a skirt, I was a slut. I talked to a man, I was a whore. I stepped on his foot on accident, he stomped on mine in retaliation. I bonked his nose while tickling, he punched me hard. I wouldn't listen, he poked me hard in the fat of my arms. I annoyed him he punched me in the stomach. We were arguing, he kicked me in the back 3 times as I lay on the ground. I upset him, he threw a knife at me that struck and cut the wall where I had been standing seconds before, it was my fault somehow. He would throw me to the ground or mnock me to the ground, by physically throwing me or by knocking the wind out of me. He once did this then threw and icepack at me and went to a movie. He choked me, he slapped me, he threatened me, he hurt me, it all happened. I would lock the bathroom door after look at the marks and not recognize myself in the mirror. Fortunately sometimes I took pictures I wish I had more, but I have a few.
You can see the outline of his fist on my leg
The bruse a few days healed standing up for scale, this bruse lasted a while and I have a lot of pictures of it because of it.
My arm is very brushed, many pictures of the abuse were in accident from me just taking pictures of myself
Throwing a toy at my face:
This one he threw a toy at me with a battery pack it wiped me in the eye. He would often throw things too hard or play too rough and jusfity whatever pain came from it as an accitend
Playing too rough in sports:
He threw a football as hard as he could while we were playing catch and it broke my pinky, I still don't have feeling in parts of it, it's also still discolored to this day. He would always play too rough in sports, there was always an excuse for it.
I didn't document the kicks, choke marks, or fist marks in my stomach, they always faded quickly, he was good at not leaving marks for the most part. I didn't document the, "whore" "cunt" "slut" "worthless". I didn't document the death threats if I was unfaithful, I did tell one friend. I didn't document his outbursts, smashing remotes, throwing fits, but it was seen by family and friends. I didn't document all the bruises, I have pictures of some and family and friends saw them. I didn't document all of the emotional abuse. I did have a diary my mom found mentioning the bruises and cruel names. I lied to her about it and said it was over. So if the burden of proof ever falls to me here it is. It's so hard to document these things when you're just surviving them. But I am greatful I have some pictures videos and hard proof. Since nobody believes survivors.
Stephan Saunders abused me. Stephan L.C. Saunders abused me. Not the tattoo artist the man who went to East Bay, and Cal Poly for grad school born in 1988, black curly balding hair, works for California state parks. Physically, Emotionally, Verbally. I was suicidal, I left, I kept quiet from fear. I'm still afraid, but I must be brave. I can't be silent.
