I was molested when I was little and its something you never forget no matter how hard you try. One thing that has helped me when I am having a low moment, is writing. Which is one of the reasons I titled my blog Freedom Literature because I feel like you are able to leave all those emotions, that are hard to say, on paper. Below is a poem I found on the rape joke, take a moment to read it.
The rape joke is that you were eight.
The rape joke is that at the time,
you didn’t know people had sex to express love.
The rape joke is that the only other person
who’d seen you naked was your mom.
The rape joke is that he called you ‘beautiful’ first.
The rape joke is that he held your hands together
and told you to ‘try harder’ when you struggled.
The rape joke is that you believed him
when he told you were overreacting.
The rape joke is that your grandma
called him a nice boy and asked him to stay for dinner.
The rape joke is that he winked at you
when you apologized to your parents for not coming
downstairs the first time you were called.
The rape joke is that his friends
high-fived him for “getting some.”
The rape joke is that you still don’t feel like
you’ve regrown the pieces he stole.
The rape joke is that he was conceived when his
dad slapped himself into his snoring mother.
The rape joke is that her friends told her
she was lucky someone wanted her.
The rape joke is that each year in the United States,
32,000 other women’s bellies
ripen with life against their will.
The rape joke is that he never learned
to touch without scarring.
The rape joke is that your classmate thinks
‘have you seen what asses look like in yoga pants?’
is an argument.
The rape joke is your new boyfriend kissing
you and telling you he ‘raped’ his math test.
The rape joke is that ‘Why are girls so scared of rape? Y’all should feel pride that a guy risked his life in jail just to fuck you’
is a popular Tweet right now.
The rape joke is that you wake up to
the memory of him laughing,
“now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
The rape joke is that it’s been twelve years and
you still quiver when someone touches you.
The rape joke is that he hasn’t stopped laughing.
The rape joke is that you forgot how to.”
The Rape Joke by Lora Mathis (via zubat)
I apologize about yesterday, I haven’t been feeling well and was unable to write my story. This story in particular takes a lot of me to write about, emotionally. Hopefully this story will make up for both days. I apologize in advance for some foul language being used, its part of the story. I will try to tell you what I can remember. I feel like bits and pieces of this night I have suppressed because they are painful. I will try my best to put it together.
A fight broke out between my parents, really can’t remember why, they were yelling back and forth and I knew I was going to have to call the cops again. We lived in a 2-story townhouse, luckily every room, including the stairs, were rugged. If you have read my previous stories, you would know my father never fought with me, only with my mother and sister.
I remember my mother and sister were upstairs fighting with my dad. My dad wanted to lock himself in the room with my mother but my sister wouldn’t let him. I remember standing at the bottom of the stairs watching my dad grab my sister by the neck of her shirt screaming at her, telling her he was going to let her fall. My sister’s feet were barely touching the top of the staircase & she was struggling to grab on to the railing. My mother came out of the room to get my father off my sister, he let my sister go & luckily she was able to grab on to the railing. The next thing I saw was my father pushing my mother so hard she flew across the hallway into our room. At that point, I ran to the phone we had downstairs in the kitchen and I called the police. My father must have known I called the cops because he came down the stairs, but I had already hung up the phone.
I ran upstairs to check on my mother and sister, thank God nothing too serious, just some bruising, cuts and scrapes. Luckily those minor bruises, scrapes & scratches would heel but the memories would scar us for life.
We locked ourselves in my mother’s room and watched out the window waiting for the cops to come. We were so happy when we saw the cop car pull up our driveway, my dad didn’t share the same enthusiasm. We slowly came out of the room waiting for my dad to open the door, when we saw the cops came in the house we felt safe enough to walk down the stairs. We all walked into the kitchen and the cop started asking what was going on, my father stood right next to him, with no fear in his eyes and ready for another fight. My mother & sister were showing the cops the bruises, all I could say was, I was the one who called the cops. The cop tried to ignore my dad’s confrontational attitude at first, but the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. The cop told my father to take a seat, my dad said “no”, the officer said, “Sir, I said to take a seat”, my dad said, “how are you going to come into my house and tell me to take fucking sear in my house, you sit the fuck down”. Both officers grabbed my dad and handcuffed him, they literally dragged my father all the way outside the house and into the police car.
There went my dad, another weekend, another night in jail, and another memory for us to never forget.
I thank God He saved us from worse. Although God allowed these situations to happen to us, I truly believe its all for His Glory. He knows what loads we can carry & never gives us more than we can bear. Along with the situations He allows in our lives, He also gives us the strength & the tools to deal with them.
I hope God blesses all the readers and touches lives beyond my reach. Lord I pray that whosoever is facing the same kind of turmoil, you hug them right now Lord and let them know its going to be okay, that they are going to be okay, that they are not alone & you are protecting them.
Hi my fellow bloggers:
I ask that you be patient with me while I get my website exactly how I want it. I’ve been trying to do this for some time now but find myself frustrated with the process and stop. I have decided to commit to it and get over the imperfections until its just right.
I welcome constructive criticism. Apart from that, remember what our mothers always taught us “if you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” 🙂
I hope that I accomplish all the goals I have set for myself via this website. I am a very passionate person and put my ALL into everything I do. I pray God gives me the wisdom to reach out to people in need.