In a conversation with my friend Courtney, I shared with her that I was always a smart child who didn’t really get into trouble or cause many waves. However, I think because I was smart and well mannered there was an assumption that emotionally I was just as intelligent. In my adulthood I’m learning that is not the case at all. I told her “...by the time I realized I wasn’t as mature as I was supposed to be, I was an adult.”
I guess it seems rather simple to some, I’m going to love myself. But it’s more than that. It’s, I’m going to honor myself as though I were the love of my life. I’m going to cater to myself. I’m going to adorn and adore myself. For one simple reason: I deserve the love I have to give.
I did not “ask for it” in any way. My clothes were not provocative. I said “no” to the point of tears until I was physically made to keep quiet. It was not just “rough sex” as the detective would ask me the day after when I made my police report. This wasn’t a misunderstanding, this was rape. I said no. He told me it wasn’t my place to tell me no. I’d never been in a fight before that night. No grade school scuffles or screaming matches. My first fight was for my life with a 6’8” 300+ lbs sexual predator. Now, when I’m provoked, I go back to that place. He’s still inside me, and that was the thing I NEVER wanted.