My boyfriend publicly humiliated me on what was supposed to be our day, so I got even…

THE HUON AND THE BREWING STORMMILIATI

My boyfriend publicly humiliated me on what was supposed to be our day after promising he wouldn’t. So I got more than even. I exposed him for who he was to everyone. So he went insane and started stalking me, making me fear for my life. Now I’m pursuing legal action, but I’m not even sure that’s going to stop him.

I had been with Trevor for a little over 3 years. At first, he was kind and caring, placing his hand on my lower back to guide me through a crowd. Our relationship had its cracks, but I thought we were happy.

We both wanted to travel, and we wanted to own a house. We weren’t sure about having kids. But there was one thing: Trevor loved to make fun of people, even me.

He’d make jokes about his friend in front of girls to make them laugh. About me in front of his guys to make them laugh, always playing it off as just banter if I got upset.

That should have been the red flag that made me end it. But he had me wrapped around my finger. Anyway, about 6 months ago, I got invited by my best friend to the snowball I had been wanting to go to. I was so over the moon, I simply couldn’t hold it in.

I started dancing in my room, excited about how I was finally going to feel like a princess. So, when Trevor came home and told me I was going to need a lot of makeup to fit in with the rest of the girls, I felt defeated.

When I clearly got upset at his comment, he started up his usual comments of it was just a joke, that I’m overreacting, and that he can’t say anything without me getting mad.

He convinced me that he was just joking and that I would look beautiful at the ball. As the ball got closer, the more and more excited I got. But Trevor sucked all the fun out of it.

Every dress I showed was either too revealing or too old-fashioned, made me look too fat or too skinny. Every pair of heels was too inviting to guys or too ugly. Every hairstyle was too much or too little. It seemed like I couldn’t do anything right.

I wouldn’t have even minded if he put in an equal amount of effort, but he didn’t. He picked out the first $45 suit he found at an old thrift store and then called me shallow for wanting him to put more effort into it.

On the day of the ball, despite everything, I was amped. I was going to go with the man I wanted to be my husband, and I was going to sing and dance my heart out. Trevor, however, he was clearly mad.

He told me many times he felt like I was just dragging him and that he was going to prank me at some point during the night just so he could have more fun. I remember fully believing he was just joking and that no way would he take his jokes to such an extreme and embarrass me on a day so important to me.

I was so naive. The night of the ball started out fine. Trevor and I danced a little and drank just enough to be in a good mood. I kept convincing myself the entire time that this was what I wanted.

Every time he’d crack a joke about how bad my makeup was, he didn’t mean it. Every time he held my hips to dance and commented about how much ice cream I’d been eating lately, he was just trying to make me laugh. And that he didn’t have some elaborate prank in mind.

Well, that’s when he excused himself to go bathroom, telling me he needed a few minutes for private manners. He came back out with a little wrapped box the size of my hand and gave it to me.

He placed it in my hand, telling me he loved me and that this is apology for acting like a jerk throughout the entire ball preparations. I remember falling in love with him all over again at that moment.

My cheeks went pink and I asked him if I should wait to open it. He told me no and that I should do it right now. And so I did. That moment is now forever seared into my brain.

The second I opened the box, a coating of purple slimy liquid shot right out of it and went straight into my face, ruining my face, my makeup, my dress, and my hair. I was covered head to toe in slimy purple liquid.

Trevor started dying laughing and the people around us stopped and just stared at me. A few even started recording. I looked up at Trevor, my eyes welling with tears, but instead of showing an ounce of compassion, he was just laughing, telling me I should see my face right now.

I stood there feeling absolutely defeated, feeling like I had betrayed the little girl in me down. I wanted to scream. I pinched myself hoping to wake up and realize this was all some messed up dream, but I never did.

And Trevor just took my cheek. He told me not to cry, that it was just a joke and asked me to please not overreact because that would make him sad on this fun day.

So that’s what I did. I smiled at him, laughing and telling him this was funny. And the idiot bought it. Inside me, a storm was brewing.

While he went to get us some drinks, my mind started racing at a million miles per hour. Trevor had no idea what was coming. He thought he could publicly humiliate me for fun and get away with it.

But that couldn’t be further from the truth. I maintained that fake smile for the rest of the night, even though I was completely devastated inside and already plotting my revenge.

I excused myself to the bathroom where I spent 20 minutes trying to salvage what I could of my appearance while holding back tears. Some kind stranger even offered me her pushmina to cover the worst of the stains.

When I came back out, Trevor had the audacity to look annoyed that I’d disappeared for so long. I started secretly recording Trevor’s jokes on my phone whenever he’d say something particularly cruel, building up evidence of his behavior without him noticing. I figured if he could record my humiliation, I could certainly keep track of his everyday cruelty.

The morning after the snowball, Trevor acted like nothing had even happened. But I noticed there were already several videos of my humiliation circulating online among our social circle. He’d actually shared them himself with captions like, “Watch until the end, lol,” and “got her good”.

As if ruining a special night for me was something to be proud of. I saved every single one of them as evidence while continuing to pretend everything was normal between us.

I wanted to leave Trevor immediately after what he did. But I was stuck in a tough spot financially since I couldn’t afford our apartment on my own. We’d signed a lease together, and breaking it would cost thousands I didn’t have. I didn’t have enough saved for a security deposit on a new place.

So, I created a secret savings account and started putting away as much money as I could from each paycheck. I picked up extra shifts at work and sold some things online, all while Trevor remained completely oblivious to my plans.

My best friend, Sophia, called to check on me after seeing the videos. But I had to be careful because Trevor often monitored my phone calls and would question me about who I was talking to.

He’d casually pick up my phone whenever it buzzed and check the notifications, claiming he was just curious. Sophia and I developed this code language where we could discuss my escape plan during what Trevor thought were just book club conversations.

We talked about chapter 7 when we meant week seven of the plan and used character names to refer to real people involved.

I also reconnected with my cousin Dallas who works in event planning and might be able to help me with the revenge part of my plan. Dallas and I had drifted apart a bit during my relationship with Trevor.

Mostly because Trevor claimed Dallas was too dramatic. Translation: Dallas saw through his BS from day one. Trevor started getting suspicious about all the texts I was exchanging with Dallas.

So, we switched to communicating through a fitness app’s messaging feature since Trevor would never think to check there. The man hadn’t exercised voluntarily in the entire time I’d known him. The closest he got to a workout was walking to the fridge for another beer during football games.