The story of a girl who fell and no one knew why.
The Moment…
I was abused sexually at a very young age. The moment it first happened somehow I knew it was wrong so I told someone. “I want to rape you” was said to me. What happened next happened for years and it wasn’t always the same person. I wanted to believe the person I told had done something but when it continued to happen… I felt lost.
At some age, I just accepted what was happening as something that was supposed to happen. “Women are only good for sex,” this was said to me while I was being shown a Hustler magazine. I believed for the longest time that I was only good for sex and that if I wanted a man, I would have to please him regardless of my feelings. I never felt like my body was for me.
For the greatest part of my life, those moments from my childhood never went away. They affected the way I interacted with people. My relationships with men were never good. If they were just a friend, sex was always there and when I turned them down, I lost my friend. My friendships with women were never meant to last. My abusers felt my female friends were theirs as well. Those friendships never lasted because it was easier to not have them than to worry about them.
Most people in my life never knew what happened to me. The few I told may have believed at first but they didn’t know what to do. I am not mad at anyone for not being there for me. It was my fault. I knew what was happening was wrong and I should have done something more. For as strong as I thought I was, that little girl no one believed in the beginning wasn’t strong. She just put on a good face because that’s what they wanted.
I know now it was never my fault, that’s just what they wanted me to believe.
The Realization…
No one knows what to do. It’s hard to turn in a family member, a friend, a coworker, or a stranger. It will always be their word against yours. What will I lose if do? I was in between a rock and a hard place. How did I deal with what I was going through, get the help I needed, and not lose anything? The answer: You will always lose something no matter what you do. In the beginning, I lost my innocence — my freedom — my childhood. As I got older, I lost my happiness and replaced it with anger at everything and everyone. I found myself battling with who I am and who I wanted so desperately to be.
It took a long time. What I went through almost got me kicked out of the military. My long-term relationships were a consent trying to please people who didn’t give two shits about me. When they ended it was always my fault, I was crazy. It never seemed that what I thought was going on was what was happening.
I know now I’m not crazy, that’s just how they wanted me to feel.
In life, there are moments, signs, or reasons that something needs to change. My realizations came at different times and in different ways. Almost getting kicked out of the military was the first. My abusive ex-husband was the next. Having to return home was another. Then just when I was thinking I finally got it all figured out, it hit me, literally, I took a car to the face. Just as I was thinking things couldn’t get any worse, SURPRISE! I lose my job and then the pandemic starts.
The Ending
While there is a lot more to this story, I wanted to keep it short. I also wanted to talk about what has happened and how I am finally starting to heal. I moved in 2020 to the last place I thought I would ever go. It’s funny how when you declare you won’t do something, you always end up doing it. I am here in Texas. I decided I had to do something different or I would end up in the same place. When I did that, I found happiness. I found the start of freedom. With a little therapy and someone truly amazing, I was able to release myself from the moments I had been holding onto since childhood. The problem with that is that you end up remembering more but now you have the strength to deal with it all.
In college, I tried to create several pieces that reflected what I was dealing with. I could never get it right. It always felt cheap or overdone. It wasn’t mine and it wasn’t telling the story I wanted. A few years ago, I woke up one morning after I had healed from my car accident and took a picture. That picture was perfect. It showed exactly what I was dealing with and I knew I had finally done it. I needed a second image to complete the story but that didn’t come until I moved to Texas.
The images in this story are the moments I deal with every day. Every day I have a thought that takes me back to those moments. Every day I remind myself that I am not ready to stop fighting. While I might not have been able to get a resolution from what happened, I realize I am strong enough to keep going and not let those monsters win. These images hang in my bathroom reminding me that beauty and strength can exist even after the worst.
There will be a resolution one day.