Life After “The One”: When Love Becomes Dangerous

Life After “The One”: When Love Becomes Dangerous

By Kristin Taylor 

About the Life After Series
If you’re new here, Life After is a blog series featuring 15 women, 15 battles, and one powerful truth: there is life after. Through heartbreak, healing, and hard-won hope, Coach Jaleesa’s Happy Wife Happy Life is honored to help share their stories with the world.

Foreword by Coach Jaleesa
This story is raw, real, and urgent. It’s not just about survival—it’s about recognizing the truth, breaking the cycle, and choosing freedom.
If you’ve ever questioned whether love should hurt—it shouldn’t.
May these words give you the courage to leave, heal, and live. Don’t wait. Don’t explain it away. Leave now—while you still can.

The Beginning of the Illusion

I first want to thank my sister-friend Coach Jaleesa for affording me this opportunity to pour my thoughts into the awaiting vessels of her fan base. For almost ten years, I have subconsciously sought an opportunity to present my story in hopes of helping others to 1) avoid the same situation or 2) understand there is life after. I ask that you bear with me as I reflect back on the negative, in order to bring forth the positive. I promise what you will see will be given to you straight, no sugar, no smoke screens…no holding back.

Growing up in a small town, there were life experiences that I NEVER dreamed I would experience. You know, the things you joked about with your girlfriends like, “I would never let someone put their hands on me” or “girl if that was me, I would whoop his....” you know the rest. All that changed when the “one” came into my life. You know, the “one” that presented as different than the others, the “one” that your parents tell you about, the “one” that is supposed to make your happily ever after happen.

The “one” swooped into my life at a time when I was most vulnerable. I had completed my goal of finishing college, beating the odds as a single mother to two young boys, and was blessed to be working in my chosen career field. All good, right? But while all my accomplishments made me feel good at times, I still felt I was lacking the picture-perfect ending…the ending the “one” promised me.

I thought taking the time to explain to the “one” what I desired would change the rules of the game. I specifically spelled out what I was looking for, what I desired and you know what? He started out being the mirror image of what I asked for, at least that’s what I saw. But while he was keeping my home immaculately clean, maintaining the upkeep of my vehicle, and picking up my children from daycare when I was late getting back into the area, I did not realize he had slowly transitioned to living in my home, stopped working, started focusing on and controlling my finances and had begun to set the foundation for the shift of power over my life right into his hands.

While I could see he had become more present and involved in my daily life, I thought, "hey, I guess this is what happens when your relationship becomes “real”. Keep in mind, at this point, I’ve never lived with a man. “I don’t know how this works,” I thought. You guessed it; I doubted every suspicion I had because I just knew this was love.

I think being in love was what numbed some of the shock of being hit the first time. I remember the argument vividly. He was upset that I would not buy a pair of $200 boots because I needed to pay my car payment. Yes, seriously. I remember flinching as he quickly lunged and wrapped his hands around my neck. I kept thinking “is this really happening?!? Am I dreaming?! God, I have got to be dreaming!” My mind shouted for help, but my voice couldn’t find the strength to scream.

Those five minutes of being held down and choked into unconsciousness felt like an eternity in hell. I thought about my Mom, my sisters, Oh God my sons!?! Where are my sons!?!?

You’d think that after coming to, I would have learned my lesson. I told myself, "Oh no, this will NOT happen again". He has got to go! But that “love” I felt…I don’t know what it was, it was so strong, that I stayed. Like a fool…I just stayed there.

My mind was so wrapped up in every apology he made, every promise to do better, every promise to go to God and change his life…that I just…stayed. I waited when he went to jail for the attack, I visited with him, I listened to him cry a river, I lost friends behind him, I just stayed. I went to court, I pleaded with a judge to not confer an order restricting contact for the rest of our lives, I did it all, just because he SAID he’d do better. And I thought I was making the right decision.

Six months later, he is being released and I am at the gates waiting for him. As he walks out, he’s smiling and appears ready to start a new beginning. Four hours later, he’s cursing me out, breaking glass in my kitchen, and threatening my best friend because he does not like my new place.

Two weeks later he’s taken over my truck and I am not allowed to go anywhere alone unless it’s church (he is now refusing to attend with me). Three weeks later I’m in a headlock, gasping for air because I did not get home in time from work.

One month later I’m standing on State Route 30, faced with the decision of getting back in the truck and traveling to the courthouse in Petersburg, VA to get married, against my wishes, OR be run over by my self-named “fiancé”.

Forty-five minutes after getting back into the truck, I’m shaking with tears in my eyes, standing before God and becoming one with the “one” who had instilled so much fear in me that I became so confused with what love really was. And yet still, at this point, I still think God will intercede and correct this for me.

The Turning Point

It took 36 days of countless fights, arguments, bruises, and threats of death before I came to my senses. He even abducted me and made me go on a “Honeymoon,” took my phone, and refused to allow me to contact my friends and family. He took me to an area where I knew no one and could do literally nothing to get away.

I remember the owner of a restaurant we ate at grabbing me by the arm and saying, “you don’t have to leave with him.” I could not believe someone had seen right through the smile, he pinched my hands to force, across my face. That night I laid awake, praying that God would change his ways…and that’s when it happened. I mean the switch just flipped, and I finally realized; this is not what God intended for me.

I acknowledged that all this time, I had been praying against what the will of God had intended for my life; I kept asking for him to change someone that was not fit to be with me in the first place.

From that point forward, my fear became my fuel for the fight of my life. I’m not talking about just in the physical; I mean my self-esteem, my family, my faith, my will to live, MY LIFE. I sent my kids to my mother’s home for protection, and I prepared for battle. I hid knives in every room of my home and I waited for the time where the “one” would go too far. That time came soon, just two days after our “honeymoon.”

I remember vividly being called over the intercom at work and told to answer line one. I had refused to answer my phone all day because I knew he was in a mood. When I picked up, he yelled expletives to me and in very colorful language, demanded I bring myself home immediately. I remember staying as long as I could, then phoning my mom to check on my sons.

I then called to see where he was and was relieved to hear that he was not home; at least that’s what he said. Unfortunately, I arrived home to find that he had arrived shortly before I did. My heart sunk as I thought about what awaited me in the home…again, my mind screamed to my co-worker “help,” but my mouth could not bring the words forth.

As I turned that lock, I remember the smug smile and wave he gave my co-worker as she backed out of the driveway, and as he turned around, my eyes followed his hand as he brought it up to punch me in my left jaw. I stumbled and looked at the dish drain, contemplating pulling the weapon that I hid just behind it, but my legs took over and I ran for the stairs.

Just as I reached the top, he caught me by my hair, and without a second thought, tossed me back down. But guess what? I fought back. I finally fought back. I jumped up and I swung with all in me and I blocked as many shots as I could. And I told him if he killed me, he was going to have a hard time doing so, because I was going to fight with all I had.

He laughed, yet appeared to physically show concern that maybe this was the last time he’d be able to do this. And you know what, it was. During the fight, my next-door neighbor overheard my fall down the stairs and rushed over to the back door, which he had left unlocked. She quickly rushed in, yelled for me to run out the door, and began arguing with him about her intentions to call the police.

He got so scared he jumped in my truck and flew off. I thanked my neighbor but begged her not to call the police. I don’t know whether it was shame or just fear of the unknown; I mean, this whole ordeal reads like a Lifetime movie, how in the world would I live beyond this.

The Final Escape

I am so thankful that God will send a sign, and the support you need, even when you don’t think you do. The next day, friends and family showed up at my house. They had been tipped off by my neighbors, who had seen the abuse and believed they knew where it was headed. They all encouraged me to go to the police.

Still stubborn, I decided to try and handle things on my own. I did everything I could think of to avoid it. I called his mother and pleaded for her to ask her son to just stay with her and leave me alone. I begged him to return my truck and just leave without any retribution from me. At my weakest moment, I offered to let him keep the truck if he’d just leave me alone.

But what I want you to know is that you cannot reason with an unreasonable person. And trust me, every abuser is unreasonable. Control is what they desire, and they will not concede even in the slightest form.

It took two more days of threats for me to come to my senses. On the last day, he picked me up from work with the promise of taking me home to meet his mother, who would be picking him up once he gathered his things.

Fifteen minutes later, he was ramming my truck over the side of the highway, just minutes away from my home, threatening to run us off of the overpass, which would have killed us instantly. I crouched on the floor of my passenger side, begging to be delivered. I screamed at him to let me live.

I managed to make it back home, and then back to my office, where I finally decided that was it. When I got off that evening, I asked my best friend to pick me up. We went straight to the police station. My family arrived and helped me stay strong as I filed a complaint.

The police was there when he came back to the home. He was ready for a fight, but found the state police awaiting him instead. And just like that, the physical abuse ended.

He did not stop trying to contact me; I received messages ranging from apologies to all-out verbal assaults on and off for the following year. He taunted me with pictures of the women he cheated on me with. He created a fake Myspace page of me in lingerie and posted obscene messages.

He sat at the car wash adjacent to my office for hours out of the day. He did everything he could to make me unravel. This went on for a year, during which he became the “one” for several other women, the last of which he beat so badly, it finally cost him his freedom—a price he remains incarcerated to pay today.

Healing and Hope

There were moments when his words hurt me just as bad as his hands. I cried at night, internalizing his words that no one would find me attractive. I yelled out in my sleep, thinking he had slipped into my home to hurt me. The abuse had me so confused, I honestly began to blame myself for everything.

And in the midst of this depression, one day a voice just said, “Get up and move on, this has no power over you.” The peace that fell over me is like none other I have felt from that day forward.

Nine years later, I’m smiling, I’m hopeful, I’m strong, and I’m here. My God, I’m here! You don’t know how that feels to honestly say that, knowing where I could have been.

Although each situation is different, I want to share a few pearls of wisdom to at least help you identify when enough is truly enough:

1. Don’t second guess your intuition. If something does not sound right about them, it probably isn’t.
2. Don’t be afraid to ask questions when you’re trying to get to know someone. And if it does not add up, see Tip #1 again.
3. If you are experiencing abuse of any kind, do not fall for the “I promise I won’t do it again.” It becomes a broken record, literally.
4. If you have help, use it. Rome was not built in a day, and it certainly required more than one person. Lean on the good people around you—it proves very helpful in the process of overcoming.
5. Love yourself. There were a lot of insecurities I had going into this relationship, and he played on every one of them. The hurt was 10 times worse than before. Take time to be in tune with your own desires, your aspirations, and your heart. Wait on God to align your helpmate with you. Trust me, He needs no help. This doesn’t mean you shouldn’t date—just be cautious of what you allow into your life. As the saying goes, what you allow, will continue.

As for me, I am honestly not afraid anymore. I have a newfound strength and restored faith that truly surpasses all understanding. I am in love with the precious life that has been spared for me.

I truly feel like the phoenix rising from the ashes; it is the most liberating feeling to experience after the battle I fought.

I sincerely pray that if there’s anyone out there reading this and going through any form of abuse, that you find strength in knowing that you can get out. There is a way out, and if you desire to make it through, then it will happen.

There are many helping hands reaching into the darkness to pull you back to safety; take that leap of faith and leave the dark days behind you. Your life awaits. You are more than a conqueror. Please remember that.