Read Online ‘What The Hell Was I Thinking?!!’ - Confessions of the World’s Most Controversial Sex Symbol by Jake Brown, Jasmin St. Claire - Free Book Online Page B

context of the larger abuse pattern by their husband. Having been there, I know every one of them were motivated by a cornered sense of helplessness that reduced them to primal defense mechanisms that would typically exist only among wild animals. It would never matter if Dick had been arrested for every time he’d hit me, he still would have been given some probation or fine, or perhaps some joke’s worth of jail time. Then he would have gotten out and done it again, because the slap he received on the wrist was never as powerful as the one he gave me regularly across the face. I was never strong enough to slap him back, because it would have made it worse the next time. On top of that, he threatened to kill me if I left him more than once and backed it up with his fists. Men do that by the millions across our country and the courts tolerate it by not sentencing men to more substantial jail time, nor by giving women the proper reprieve or protection under law of justifiable homicide for being driven to that extreme by their abusive partners. Women who kill men who abuse them are reacting and almost every time they were driven there by the savagery of the abuse suffered at the hands of their partner. It’s not vigilantism to defend your life and if I’d stayed with Dick, I might very well have been an inmate rather than movie star. You might be thinking right now, ‘Wait a minute Jasmin; you’re an actress, not an attorney!’That might be true if my mother wasn’t an extremely successful shark of a litigator who raised me in a house where there was constant debate. My argument stands on its own. I would challenge anyone to go through what I did and not feel this way. I do NOT believe in karma until something horrible befalls DICK.
    If you haven’t ever dated a monster like this, consider yourself lucky, and read my story as a warning for your own love life. Many women who come from abusive backgrounds end up dancing, or even getting into adult films, I’d say 80% or more, because their self-esteem is beaten to such a pulp, that they become THAT DESPERATE for attention. I was a Columbia University student who became a FEATURE dancer and ADULT film star, so if I was driven to that sort of desperate extreme of escape, it should tell you how bad it can indiscriminately become for women in domestic violence situations. I’ve done my best to move on from the hell that Dick put me through and am finally started to believe in love again with my current relationship with Matt, my fiancé when we started writing this book. Not all men are like Dick. All women should take into account that statistically, a woman is hit every 14 seconds, as well as that, women who leave their batterers after staying in an abusive relationship are 75% more likely to be killed by the batterer than those who stay. As such, the only preventative measure is to leave the first time it happens. Period, there are no exceptions to this rule, only to the guy because I have a good one finally. I plan to hold onto mine, even as I try by the day to let go of the long-term pain Dick has caused me. I have never been a victim, and don’t want to be read that way. My life has not been cast in this experience, but it is a part of my fabric, and I live with it daily as a survivor of that bastard. I have the utmost respect for those of you who have gone through a similar nightmare, on any scale, and I hope we all move forward together into a time when this sort of shit will no longer be tolerated by society at large.
    By this point, things with Dick were completely over and I was close to graduation. It still makes me sad to this day to know my father didn’t live to see me move on, but I was trying to make the best of things. Once asshole was out of my life, part of me felt like doing a jig on his ball sack with high heels sharpened into points. But in reality, my self-confidence was crushed. Following my break-up with Dick and my father’s passing, my mom