Here I was, 17 years old and thinking that
I knew it all.  I was an adult, a high school 
graduate, intelligent and some would say
"a good looking woman who could have the
world eating out of the palm of her hand."
Boy, was I wrong. I still had so much to learn.

I confided everything to my grandmother 
because we had grown so close over the course
 of my life.  She knew everything that was going
on in my life, before anyone else did.  
She was more to me than a grandmother 
or a second mother, she was my best friend.  
She knew everything, and I mean EVERYTHING that happened to me.  If I had a problem, I'd 
go right to her with it for advice.
  So it was no surprise to anyone that 
I would honor her request to continue 
to further my education.

I began college in the fall of 1990, 
and at the time I wasn't sure if I wanted to 
go into the psychology field, or if I wanted
 to follow the dream I had when I was 12 
to become a lawyer.  So I started going part 
time evenings to school and spent my days
 working.  I took the required psychology 101
 course, while I made my decision of 
career paths.  It was during this semester 
that I met a guy who would change the course
 of my life forever.

The relationship I had with this guy, 
didn't last for very long.  The interference
 of his family and mine caused the 
relationship to fail.  I was still being treated
 as a child, and was unable to really make 
any of my own decisions without having some
 sort of repercussion.  Although my grandmother
 supported the relationship, she felt I was 
"too young" to be "so serious" about a guy.  
When the relationship ended, I was shattered.

  That was until a friend of mine introduced me 
to a guy friend of hers.  She insisted that I go 
on with my life, and get back into the 
"dating" scene.

The scene was set for this meeting to take place.
I fought her tooth and nail because I wanted no
part of it.  She insisted and even managed to 
get the full support and backing of my family.
It was her birthday, and she was having a party.
This was about the least stressful situation to
have such a meeting take place, but at the same
time I didn't feel ready to become involved in
another relationship.  Against my better judgment,
I went to her party. 

"Dressed to kill" as she put it, I sat there and waited.  We were listening to music and talking about the usual things when the doorbell rang.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a guy standing at the door who to put it mildly was not my type.  Thinking that this was just my defense mechanism kicking in to protect me from being hurt again, I tried to look beyond that "first impression" and find something that I could like, if not something that would attract me to him.  As he walked in the room, he was introduced formally to me.  He reeked of alcohol,  was unshaven, and dressed shabbily.  I thought to myself, well least I wasn't wanting this to work out to begin with, nothing lost here.  Relieved that I could finally relax, I began to enjoy the party. 

That was until I went to leave that evening and he asked to escort me to my car.  All of a sudden the words my mother had spoken to me all my teenage years seemed to come back.  "You don't argue with a person who has been drinking, you don't know what they are capable of."