Hot sex, fabulous cars, and exotic trips were the snap shots of my relationship in my early twenties. I was still in college and having a rich man was the in thing. I was headed towards a nice career in the hospital, but let's face it in California you dream bigger than the hospital. My goals were a big ring with many flashy things so others could be envious. I was young and had lost track of the fact that a real relationship was about more than material things. I received everything I wanted from Daniel — along with things I did not want. I was in the beginning of a dysfunctional relationship that was surrounded with emotional abuse, covered up by money.

Daniel and I had some really great times, mixed with some questionable times in our new courtship. We were long-term associates, so we assumed it would be a good fit. He was a man I trusted because we had so much in common. We could laugh together for hours, and even lose track of time just talking. I was so wrapped up in our previous friendship from high school, that I didn't analyze our current relationship.

I was 22 years old, and he swept me off my feet like a fairytale. It was hard to see past the extravagant gifts, and luxurious lifestyle he provided for me. For the first 4 months life was "perfect", and argument free. Then out of nowhere we started having trivial disagreements. These spats would end up with him not talking to me for up to two weeks. Most of the other weeks everything would be romantic and argument-free.

It took me a long time to realize how much we were arguing. More often than not, arguments became less because I tiptoed around his triggers. Looking back, I realize now this was a huge warning sign from the beginning of the relationship, but I believed I was in love, so I chose to work it out. I was immature and believed that all adult relationships had these types of problems. I didn't realize that having these issues at the early stage meant down the line it would get worse.

As months passed by and one year changed into the next, we had some really good times; it would be hard to count them all. The 80% good, at this point, definitely outweighed the 20% bad in the relationship. The problem was that he seemed to be just going through the motions, and never really putting his real emotions out there. Don't get me wrong: the presents, and extravagant trips he gave me were amazing. But it always seemed like we were playing roles in a movie until we argued and I cried. It was like he was on autopilot when we were happy, and his real personality came out when we argued. Although the bad with us could be more than bad, after a year of courtship things started to change and become even worse.

I watched the situation change before my eyes, but I never expressed my feelings or position about the relationship. I didn't want our relationship to end because I was afraid to be single. I also was determined to not start over with someone else. We started spending less time together; now he only went out with his friends. If I ever said anything about him going out with his friends, or stated how I didn't like the little bit of time he gave me, I was wrong. If I said one word we were in an argument. These childish mind tricks seemed to keep me at bay for the time being.

If I had been my own life coach then, I would have asked myself a series of questions:

Are you happy with your relationship?

If you are not happy what is keeping you there?

What would help your relationship become more of what you need?

Since I wasn't a life coach at this time, I stayed through all of the hard patches. I was loyal to a fault. To my surprise, he still managed to ask me to move away with him to his home on the East Coast a year into the relationship. Moving meant I had to drop my whole life, including my job, to revolve around his needs, and it was a scary thought. But, like many others, I had love blinders on and made the move.

I had a man and I wanted to keep him so I did what it took. I wasn't thinking about how my life would be affected. I was just living in the moment, and enjoying the ride. I didn't think about how he would now be in total control because he would be supporting me. My parents said that with his personality type it would be a mistake, but I still avoided all the warning signs. I swore that moving would show my love and trust to make us closer.

I arrived on the East Coast three weeks earlier than we had both intended. A family member of mine had just passed away so I was going to attend the funeral. It was warm and humid back east with light rains, very different from the sunny days and beach I had left behind. I was just so excited to live together because it was a new adventure neither of us had ever experienced. I was so overwhelmed with things going on I could have never guessed what was going to happen next.

I had been in town three days and Daniel took me everywhere: movies, fancy dinner, clubs, and even the theater for a play. By the time the weekend ended we had been living together for four days, and it was time for him to return to work.

He awoke and went to work early Monday, and shortly after I woke up and started making myself at home. I started unpacking and cleaning to some soul tunes on the music channel. I was being a "good girlfriend", cleaning the townhouse from top to bottom. About an hour and a half in, my heart would be shattered into pieces I could not mend. A year and four months was flushed down the toilet.

After cleaning his bathroom and the living room area I worked my way over to the third bedroom. I was almost done cleaning when I found a video camera under one of the pillows as I was straightening the bed. The LED part of the camera was still popped open, so I wanted to see what someone had been watching or recording. Being nosey, I pressed play and saw three people having wild sex in the room I was trying to clean — and one of the participants was Daniel.

My heart must have skipped two beats at that moment. Anger, sadness, stupidity, and hurt all set in at once. Then my heart began to beat out of my chest. I pressed "pause" to try to think things through before reacting. While tossing thoughts back and forth, a light bulb popped on: this could have totally been an old video. Maybe he was just watching the good old single days before having a live-in girlfriend. That had to be it! Maybe he was just freaking out about having a live-in girlfriend; I couldn't be mad at anything that happened before me.

Questions I should have asked myself:

Do you want to be with someone that is watching his past sex acts?

Are you really okay now that you know about this type of behavior?

Like anyone else these questions never entered my mind, not even once. My thoughts just raced back and forth until the CSI agent in me came out. Then I thought about rewinding the tape to the beginning. I wanted to see if my loving boyfriend had his brand-new tattoo in the video. If so, I would have cold hard evidence that he was cheating on me. I hit rewind and play. A minute and a half into the video, I saw his tattoo and hit pause. There he was, cheating on me with not one, but two women at once. Why the hell would he even ask me to move in if this is what he wanted?

To add insult to injury, the girls who were with him had all the qualities he said he didn't want. Great! At first the only thought I had was, why do men always cheat with people they say they don't like? This always seemed to baffle me, even with stories I heard from friends.

The commentary on this tape was so vulgar, and he seemed very happy and content. It was so outrageous. Was this one of his natural habits?

I was now sick to my stomach, and for good reason. I did not understand this type of behavior.

The first thought that popped into my head was to go to his office, make a scene, and slap him! This was a normal irrational reaction in the moment, and it quickly faded. Pacing back and forth, I called my best friend and told her some of what happened, screaming and crying. She tried to help me rationalize my thoughts. She also helped me look for a ticket to fly home. After an hour of venting, I started packing my clothes. I turned on my soulful slow jams to help calm my nerves.

About three hours later, I was now very calm. In the center of my tornado everything was peaceful, with chaos all around. I went back in the room and grabbed the video camera to hook it up to the big screen television in his living room. Then I took the liberty of pausing it right when he was showing off his muscles, and having the most fun. When his truck pulled up I started playing the video and sat by the front door.

This was definitely a defining moment in our relationship. All of the images were burned into my memory. When he walked in and saw the video he automatically tried to lie. But since I had played detective for eight hours, I let him know that I knew this was a recent video. Why lie when you're caught?

He fell into immediate regret and fake tears. It was all a great act that I could barely handle. Daniel was only sad and sorry because he was caught. I continued to ask questions, and he continued to lie to my face. He thought I was stupid enough to believe him.

I boldly asked a simple question, "How many times have you cheated on me?" He said, "That was it! I swear to God!" I am very surprised lightning did not strike at this moment. Then I stopped asking questions and said, "Just tell me it has been more than you can count." But this man was so into his lie that he stuck to his guns. He said what I saw on the video was the only time he cheated.

After throwing things and yelling, I gave in and went to a silent dinner with this cheater. I was between a rock and a hard place. I had just given up my good job to be with him. I didn't want to go home immediately because my father would be right. Plus I had some money, but I didn't want to spend my last bit leaving him. In the back of my mind I knew I did not want to leave him permanently. So using my last bit of money to make a big scene would have been a waste. Once we returned to his home, I refused to sleep in any room there. So I laid on the couch with all of my bags still packed.

Questions I should have asked myself: Do you still want to be with him?

Do you want to work it out with someone who could easily lie to your face?

How much longer are you going to put up with the way he treats you?

Do you really believe that this relationship is better than being single?

I tried to mentally heal the next day, because he begged me not to leave before he returned home from work. My thoughts were all over the place. I tried to continue cleaning to ease my mind. I know it seems weird, but it helped me to relax. This of course would prove to be another challenging day. I didn't understand why I wasn't on a plane to go home. I was trying to just make myself feel better by talking to my best friend, while I cleaned up his bedroom.

I was honestly trying to just make myself comfortable at my boyfriend's home. I was still hurt and disappointed about his actions, but I loved him. He seemed like he was going to make sure that everything was going to be okay, so I was trying to sweep my feelings under the rug. I wanted this relationship to work because I had put so much effort into it. I was trying to convince myself that he wouldn't betray me again.

Before I could even get some clear concise thoughts talked out, my heart felt another flutter. I was staring at a videotape on the floor of the bedroom that was marked "xxx." While staring at the tape, I got instantly upset. Then I told my best friend I would call her later. As I shook my head I put the tape into the VCR. My heart already knew what I would find. This time Daniel really had made his own little chopped up porno. My thoughts raced back and forth.

This was not the man I thought I knew growing up. I knew him for so long that I couldn't believe what my eyes were seeing. This all seemed so far off character. He was a professional man this could not be who he really was in private.

I was in denial, but I was no longer shocked by these actions. The woman who was performing a number on my boyfriend happened to be wearing the same necklace he had made for me, or so I thought.

Every girl got the same jewelry?

Was all of this really happening?

After all of the sexual acts he sat and gave commentary about them, and this just perplexed me. My thoughts were very unclear, but one good question popped up: Why don't you just leave this situation right away, and never speak to him again?

Questions I should have asked myself:

What makes you believe someone should treat you this way?

Are you just fearful of being alone?

This time I refused to wait eight hours to confront him this time, so I contacted him at work. He was in the middle of a meeting, but came running home. Once he got there he was so nervous and had no answers. He just kept telling me he was sorry. Still, pathetically, I stayed even with all the lies because I thought I had nowhere to go. I was making myself a victim subconsciously. I was scared to be alone, and convinced that he was right: I might not find a better man.

Whenever we argued he always let me know that he was the best guy I would ever have. These words always played in the back of my mind. I knew better, but for some reason I could not get myself to move on.

He suggested we buy a home together and move in quickly. Ignoring all of the thoughts in the back of my mind, yet again, I agreed.

I have no idea why I did not think things through, but I let the relationship move forward. Although the search to find a beautiful home went smoothly, and was even fun at times, I was so unhappy. We bought new furniture that I picked out, and we did all the things I wanted. But the images of him with all those women were burned into my brain. They would come up out of the blue, and I knew I had to leave him. Three weeks after moving into our new home, while he was away for work, my self-questioning became more intense. All of the thoughts I had settled in!

I didn't want to be with someone who watched himself cheating on me. It would be impossible to trust this man, and who knows how much more he had actually done or was doing. I was unsure of how to leave our relationship, but I definitely needed to get away from him.

On a dark day, after an idiotic fight I had with Daniel, I packed all my things and left the house. He was gone for work again, so it would be my easy break from this madness. I knew when he got home he would lose it, so I left my version of a Dear John letter. About six hours after I left, he started calling and texting me. He even started calling some of my good friends. After about the eighth call from my best friend I answered to let her know I was safe. She asked me what happened, and where I was staying. I reassured her that I was okay without much detail, and let her know to pick me up at the airport the next day.

Meanwhile, my phone kept beeping because Daniel would not stop calling.

Daniel was trying to find me, but nobody knew where I was because I had family come and get me. The only person I had shared any "real information" with was a Pastor. Nobody needed to know all of the horrible details, and I was keeping it that way. I then finally answered the phone when he called.

The questions came one after another, with barely a breath in between. "Where are you? Why did you leave? How did you leave?" And his infamous line, "Please don't do this!" As we talked I could feel the lies through the cell phone. My stomach was in knots from just thinking about everything that had happened. I had tuned him out so I got off the phone as nicely as possible.

The next morning I went to the airport and caught the earliest flight possible, to my place 3,000 miles away. By the next afternoon, Daniel was calling and begging to pick me up so we could work it out. When I told him I was all the way back home he flipped out. This was unknown territory for him, and he didn't like it.

Nobody had ever left Daniel, and he always got what he wanted when he wanted it. The fact that I left was not okay with him. Daniel now tried to turn things around on me. He began to question my love for him, and asked if I really even cared.