My Abuser Convinced Me I Was the Reason We Had STIs

"You don't have to lie just because I'm sitting here." Bill pointed to the top question on the medical form I was filling out.

"How many sexual partners have you had in the past year?"

One, asshole. I've had one fucking partner. Literally.

I was so sick of this constant badgering of questions and comments related to sleeping with someone else. Bill was accusing me of sleeping with his best friend, again. He claims that Jay and I had slept together on my 21st birthday when Bill and I were broken up. In reality, Jay took my roommate and me back to his place where he and his roommate were watching The Matrix. The four of us ate leftover pizza and drank Mountain Dew. And we fell asleep on whatever furniture we were on. One hell of a 21st birthday, right? I would be verbally tortured for months for not spending that night with Bill. The doctors' office waiting room was just a small sampling.

However, something had brought me home to Massachusetts on a break from college during my junior year and landed me at the free clinic. My answer to question number one wasn't the problem. But it wouldn't be the last time Bill attempted to convince me that the STI I had (we had), was MY doing.

The nurse called me out of the waiting room, explaining to Bill that I'd be right back, he could wait there. I was taken into the side room where my blood pressure was taken and I was asked if I was safe—if I wanted Bill to come to the appointment with me. At that time in my life, I didn't know all of the facets of abusive relationships. I didn't understand that Bill was gaslighting me by trying to put the blame on me. I didn't realize I was being manipulated and cheated on while I was away at college. I didn't know that his randomly showing up at my school in Philadelphia or calling me in my dorm at 3am were ways he was maintaining his control over me. I saw a guy I was dating, hurting that we had contracted something from somewhere and now we had to face that. It wasn't until years later that it all made sense to me. 

So when the nurse asked if I wanted him to follow me into the exam room, I did. I wanted that support from him I thought I'd get. Instead, he waited until the doctor announced we had chlamydia to ask if it was because I didn't clean my toys well enough. Then Bill told me to leave; he had to ask the doctor some questions. Now, I realize that he was probably admitting he was unfaithful and getting info for his local girlfriend. At the time, I just wanted to get out of that office. He would later tell me that he explained how I cheated with Jay to the doctor, and the doctor said we had to get Jay the info we had received. So he'd call Jay to let him know. Since Jay was his best friend, I was mortified. Jay wasn't involved in this in any way. And the rumor chain was started.

I went back to school depressed. It took two rounds of medication before the infection left my body. I couldn't tell anyone there what I was going through emotionally or medically. And now I couldn't talk to anyone back home because everyone turned on me thinking I gave Bill an STI. I was convinced for a small time, that maybe Jay and I had slept together. It took years, even after I had left Bill, to overcome the shame. I had to tell every sexual partner I had after that, that I had had chlamydia. 

In hindsight, I'd like to point this out—if you're being accused of cheating, consider that your partner is projecting their actions onto you. If you have a medical occasion, and you do not receive support from your partner or are in turn receiving blame, consider that a sign and examine it deeper. They tell us who they are with their body language and their actions. Trust yourself—if a situation seems wrong, it is. Those red flags are signals you shouldn't ignore.