My Life Purpose

God…my heart is pounding. My hands feel cold and clammy as my fingers touch the keyboard. I can hear the train outside.

Physically, I am safely in my office with all of the accolades on my wall. Accolades that prove that I busted my ass in school, degrees that prove I am a professional. The name on my door says “Counselor”, the sign says “how are you feeling today?’

But mentally I am not that professional, I am a scared 15-year-old girl.

Breathe…just breathe. Wow. Am I really doing this? This feels so surreal. I have never, ever, EVER shared this story with anyone (except my husband). Not my family, not my friends, not anyone. But I will share it, because I have to. Because I am NOT alone. Because I am not my story. Because I am not that 15-year-old girl anymore. Because that story didn’t define me. Because that story DID NOT break me. Because somewhere out there, there is a girl/woman reading this, and they will say “me too.”

My purpose is to help others. My purpose to help people like me. My purpose is to tell you, that you are not alone, and that YOU WILL do big things in this world.

Are you ready? Let’s go…

My name is Doralee and I am a daughter of Mexican immigrants. This is important to note, because most people from the Hispanic culture will know and understand that the level of strictness from a Mexican mother is unlike any other. I mean…can we say chancla?

Anyway, my story begins my freshman year of high school. I was a funny, silly, obnoxious girl who met a boy older than me. He was a sophomore. He was different from me. He wore baggy clothes, he slicked his hair back, and even had a mustache. He drove an old, white Cadillac. He looked like he stepped out of a scene from any cholo movie in the 90’s. I was smitten.

This was my first “big girl” relationship. He was nice to me. He would hold my hand and walk me to class. I felt like a freshman queen! Then…he started to act jealous. It was cute. I can’t believe he liked me that much to be jealous! At this point, I had a pager. Because I was cool and everyone had one. LOL. He would page me. ALL DAY. So cute right?! Wrong. I wish I saw the signs then. But I was 15, how could I know? Oh and did I mention he had a horrible temper?

We were at lunch one day (our school let us leave campus) when I mad him angry. I don’t remember what I did, or what happened, but he was pissed. It was winter. We were driving out in the middle of the country (outskirts of town), when he stopped the car, and told me to get out. I laughed. “This can’t be real” I thought to myself. He screamed “GET OUT” at the top of his lungs. I got scared and quickly jumped out. It was a Washington State winter. So maybe about 12-16 degrees? He sped off. There I was, walking on an old gravel road. I was freezing, no phone (this is before cellphones) and headed back to the direction of school. I couldn’t miss class. My mom would kill me. I prayed for a miracle. About five minutes later, he came back. I was freezing. He was smiling. “Oh good” I thought, “he isn’t mad anymore.”

He told me he was just kidding and that he loved me. He told me to get in. I got back in, half scared, half relieved. We drove back to school, and I couldn’t help but think that this must be what love looks like. If he didn’t love me, he wouldn’t have gotten so mad right? I was so wrong. Our relationship continued like this for about a year. He would yell, get jealous, drop me off in the middle of nowhere, then be happy and buy pizza pockets and gum. You know the cycle right?

After a while, I started to get fed up with this. My parents didn’t raise a stupid girl to be mistreated. Besides, I was too young to date. So, I broke up with him. I stayed away from him, and went on with my life.

A few weeks passed, and he continued to try and apologize to me, but I was done. SO done! He was crying as he asked me to have lunch so we could “talk.” I reluctantly agreed. We drove toward our favorite corner store for lunch which was across the school, we could have walked, but he insisted he drive. My gut told me not to get in, he smiled and said it would be quick. I got in. BIG MISTAKE! He drove past the corner store; I stayed quiet. I thought he was taking us to another corner store (I come from a really small town). He passed that one too. I asked him where we were going. Silence. I started getting scared. I could feel the car speeding up. I looked at his face. It had changed. That’s when it clicked. I was going somewhere, and it wasn’t the corner store.

I started to panic. My intuition told me I was in danger. I screamed for him to stop. He didn’t stop. I tried to open the car door at a stop sign, but he kept going. He continued to run every stop sign and stop light. I was afraid for my life. I was praying we got pulled over. We never did.

I thought, this is it. He is taking me out in the country to drop me off again, or to do something worse to me. The thought alone gives me chills. He drove us to his house. His mom was at work and his sister was at school. We were alone. I was scared. He ran inside and grabbed a shotgun. THIS WAS IT. I am going to die at 15. He said the gun wasn’t for me, it was for him. I chased him worried he would kill himself. He was sobbing now. He put the tip of the gun in his mouth. I was sobbing. I was about to watch someone die. If only I didn’t break up with him, if only I had stayed, things would have been different. I would be sitting in class right now. I don’t know how I calmed him down, I don’t remember what made him stop. But he stopped. I didn’t say anything to him after this. I didn’t mention the gun, or the fight, or how scared I was. I was just happy it was over. Or so I thought….

Please come back next Friday for Part 2 of my purpose story…

If you or someone you know is a victim of dating abuse, or domestic violence, you are not alone!

Please visit:

https://www.thehotline.org/

https://www.loveisrespect.org/