Five years ago, I began my first relationship. Unfortunately, it turned out to be an abusive one. My lowest weight was eighty-nine pounds. Not only did he beat me down physically, but emotionally I felt as though I was a waste of space. I never thought that I would be involved in a physically abusive relationship. My mother served in the U.S. Army for thirty-years and she taught me to be not only strong, but also wise. But we all know how the affairs of the heart can blind us. So when I come across young women who are with men who demean them, I try to tell them love is so much more than the good moments that you and abuser share. If I could go back, I would not change any of torture at three in the morning of cheating accusations. The spitting on me. I now know what is acceptable in a relationship. Being in love does not mean that you become weak. It does not make you dread the pain of taking a shower because the water burns your cuts and bruises. Love encourages, love motivates, love is not perfect, but it never causes us to question our self-worth, or what we believe in. So now, I walk with my head high. Of course everyone has their days, but I find myself experiencing a different kind of tough love. He pushes me to pursue my dreams. He fights for me to see things in a different light than my own. And his touch is a feeling that does not make me flinch or fear, it is to be embraced every time.