Shame, Sex, Safety, Silence

A too honest account of the life of a modern woman

Where to start? Just start …

I’ve been sexually violated countless times.

My body abused. Penetrated. Dishonoured.

Yet I kept quiet.

I wasn’t forced down a dark alley by a stranger.

Known perpetrator. Trusted man.

Years later. I still tell myself the story I was consenting.

I protect the perpetrator. I’m steeped in shame.

We laugh. We laugh so hard.

A union with an imperfect man of integrity.

He lays down his cards. He’s not proud of his past.

Toxic masculinity.

Dishonouring. Ego driven. Disrespectful.

I look into his eyes. My heart and soul could not love him anymore.

He now embodies the very masculine presence I want and need in my life.

His warrior energy. His protection of my fierce, yet soft feminine soul, melts me.

This is how men grow. They step into deep self awareness.

They honour their polar opposite. The soft, flowing feminine, who can worship them to their core.

I lock the doors. I’m in the city. It is not safe.

This world is not safe.

I’m not safe. I must keep quiet.

Suppress my thoughts. I await instructions.

I open my mouth but no words come forth.

I have the gift of speech but no voice.

“I think you should start taking anti-depressants”

I’m broken. I knew it. He was right.

I walk onto the stage.

300 at least in the audience.

I wear a short sequin dress with black tights. It’s hard to walk in heels. I glimpse the cameraman. I steady my breath. Fully taking the spotlight.

The pictures on my social media feeds, ooze confidence and success.

My DM’s full of affirmations. I am envied by the women. I feel the men flirting with me.

I am an imposter. It’s only time I tell myself until I’m found out.

They only like me because I’m pretty.

I feel unworthy, unseen, unheard and so unsafe.

My body convulses with trapped energy.

Shaking. Releasing trauma held deep within my body.

I cry out. “Get the f**k off me”

His full force on my tiny frame.

I cry out. No.

This is how women grow.