I married the kids dad six days after my nineteenth birthday. September 11, 1993. He was three years older then me. We were engaged for a year and a half and he was a boy I had known when I was in middle school. He hit me for the first time two weeks after the wedding. We were bringing in groceries from the truck. We had this old camper shell on the back and the door thingy was broken so that it wouldn’t stay up unless you held it. I reached in for some groceries and didn’t hear him come up beside me so after I grabbed the bags I just let the door swing down. It smashed down on his head and he backhanded me into a mud puddle before I ever had time to realize what had happened. I didn’t say anything just got up finished putting the groceries in the house and got in the shower. I was freaking out but later he came to me and cried. He apologized and swore it was reflex. He had hit me before he even realized what was happening. He promised never to hit me again and he didn’t. Until the next time.