My fat abusive ex almost ruined my life This is long, so bear with me. For as long as I can remember, I've dealt with being extremely shy and having extremely low self esteem. Middle school was rock bottom for me, but I started improving once I got to high school; until I started dating the fatty. At that point in my life, I still thought that fat people had no control over their bodies, asking them to diet was cruel, blah blah blah. My self esteem was still bad enough that I clung to any guy who showed any interest in me whatsoever, whether they were good looking or not. My borderline obese ex sensed that about me, and he started flirting with me until we started dating. First of all, when we started dating, I was 14 and he was 18. (That just goes to show how desperate and depraved fatties are). The first few months of our relationship actually went really well; he was nice enough, we had fun together, it was just a good relationship. After about three months, his personality did a complete 180.  He started insulting and criticizing me daily. He was constantly telling me how stupid, ugly, selfish, boring, etc. I was. During this time I was at my heaviest (5'3", 140 lbs) and he made sure to tell me how fat and unappealing I was getting (while he was sitting on his fat ass eating McDonald's for every meal). Looking back on it, I should have left him as soon as all that started happening, but I was young, thought I was in love, and convinced that he was the only person who would ever love me because of the reasons he listed above. Besides, he had been so sweet that I blamed myself for his sudden change and was determined to fix it somehow. I spent 45 minutes every day straightening my very curly hair because he didn't like how it looked naturally. I made myself throw up so I could lose weight. I let him make all the decisions and got him whatever he wanted to make him happy. I was completely under his control. Eventually he started getting mad at me for spending time with my friends without him there, especially if I was with other guys. He would insult me and guilt trip me to the point where I stopped hanging out with them and spent all my free time with him. He saw a picture on Facebook of one of my best guy friends (who was gay) hugging me, and he left tons of comments yelling at my friend and telling the person who posted it to take it down. He posted status after status about how terrible I was and about how he felt so betrayed and blah blah. He then called me and told me that I needed to cut all ties with my friend and never talk to him again. By this point, he had hit me a couple of times, so I was too scared to tell him no.  This was around the time he started pressuring me into doing more sexual things. I was 15 then, and I was completely inexperienced and didn't feel ready to do anything more than making out. He would guilt trip me, telling me about what all his friends his age and their girlfriends were doing and how he felt like a loser because he wasn't getting any action. The first time he asked me to go down on him, I refused and explained to him that I wasn't comfortable with it, and he started CRYING. He kept insulting me and pulling the "if you really loved me..." card until I finally gave in to him. He expected a blowjob every time we were together (he was a devout Catholic and didn't believe in sex before marriage) and if I ever said no he would either guilt trip me or kick me out of his house. This went on for the rest of our relationship (and of course he never returned the favor).  I tried to break up with him once. I was sick of being treated like shit and decided to finally stand up for myself. I texted him and told him I couldn't handle how he treated me anymore. He said that if I left him, he was going to kill himself. I knew that he had dealt with depression and self harm before we got together, so I was scared that he actually meant it. I ran over to his house and was banging on his door for a few minutes before he finally came to answer it. When he let me in, I noticed a bloody razor blade and saw that he had cut himself. He held his bleeding wrists up and said "you made me do this." I broke down sobbing, apologizing for being such an awful person and for hurting him. He stared at me silently while I was on the floor crying, before saying "you're ugly when you cry".  I was miserable. I didn't know what to do. I felt trapped in that abusive relationship and I didn't have the courage to get out of it. I became suicidal; every time a car drove by I was tempted to throw myself in front of it. For eleven months, that fat monster broke me down and destroyed me. He eventually broke up with me because he said we were in a rut and he was bored with me. I later found out that he had been cheating on with dudes for the last part of our relationship.  I'm turning 21 in a few months, but what I went through still affects me to this day. I'm 30 pounds lighter, but I still hate how I look and I still think I'm a shit person. I have a hard time enjoying sex and I still feel disgusted with myself after going down on a guy. I've had a difficult time making friends because I assume they won't like me before I even say a single word to them. I was diagnosed with major depression and social anxiety disorder in December, and I've been on an antidepressant and have been going to therapy since then. I've improved so much, although I'm still far away from where I want to be. That fat fuck took so much away from me and put me through Hell before I was old enough to drive, and he may be what first lit the spark of fat hatred in me. I refuse to ever let a fatty's greasy hands come anywhere near my body again. The funny part about all of this is that to this day, the sack of fat and future diabetes is still telling people that he loves me and wants me back, and he still posts Facebook statuses about how much he misses me. He hasn't been in a relationship since then and is always complaining about how lonely he is and how he doesn't have any friends. Sucks to be you, you fat fucking piece of shit.   tldr; Don't date fatties