the past

i met my big girls father when i was about 12. he was 13. he was my first ‘boyfriend’, such as ‘it’ was. the ‘relationship’ involved long silent phone calls, an ‘eye’ acknowledgement occasionally, a possible wave & more than anything, the title of being someones girlfriend & vice versa.

that ‘relationship’ didn’t last long of course. 

we ‘met’ again when i was about 14 or 15. the relationship i entered into with him wasnt with deep reflection or thought on my part, it was a knee jerk reaction to all that i was, all i wanted to get away from, all that i thought would ‘fix’ & remedy what i needed, which was, in a nutshell, protection.

what i actually entered into was a childish relationship, a violent relationship & a series of events that would add to and change the course of who i was, forever.

our time together was violent. drunken. full of angst & unknowns. poverty. disempowerment. dishonouring. anguish.

out of all of that came our beautiful little baby girl.

i had just turned 16 when she was born. still a baby myself, upon reflection.

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today her fathers mother, her grandmother, died.

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when she rang to let me know, i felt nothing. no sympathy. no angst. no sorrow. no nothing.

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as we talked more there was a stirring in my gut that has only just started to dissipate. sort of.

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it was a time in my life that i walked away from. i chose to leave the relationship as it became more violent. but leaving, as such, was harder than i had anticipated.

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all that memory came galloping to the from of my brain & my feels today. & i wasnt prepared for it.

seems to be the way shits working out with me at the moment.

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i’ve spent a few hours wading through things i had purposefully forgotten. partially because at the time, there was no other way to deal with it. my safety, my girls safety, were more paramount than  any other ‘feeling’ i may have had.

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remembering that i was 16 at the time.

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how does a 16 year old, in all reality, deal with this in a manner that is ‘appropriate’?

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well i did.

even with everything else (sexual assault aftermath & continued hostilities) going on, i knew i had to keep my girl safe.

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i realised today, that at the time of beatings, bottles flying, walls and windows being broken, car crashes, no food, no means of escape .. i was beyond petrified. 

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again.

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but being petrified propelled me to change shit. to get away by any means necessary.

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and i did.

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today i felt all that again. and im still reeling but am finding a different kind of ground or firm footing for myself. 

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i’m not that scared child. that scared young mother. that person. that person who experienced all that physical violence. 

i’m grown.

i more than survived it.

i had one beautiful friend who would check on me & i am eternally grateful for him.

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i’m all grown up even though i thought i was grown then, that was a forced grown. a child that was sexually assaulted & tortured, who grew up trying to escape. & that continued throughout my life and relationships. whether i chose willingly or unconsciously, ive been trying to escape all my life.

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im tired.

& rightly so.

i survived.

& rightly so.

im good like that.

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this part of my life needs a proper burial i decided.

i need to face it dead in its eye. deal & let it go.

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thing is, this letting go thing, is a new layer. its different. deeper.

i know its good, it just doesnt feel good. 

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it hurts i think.

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it hurts that my girl has to deal with the new layers what i wanted to protect her from. as an adult she has chosen to relate to this family. and i admire the fuck out of her for it.

it just hurts to watch it all unfold.

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sucks ass actually.

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(this is from a couple weeks ago .. bit delayed .. & still lots going on with this shizz .. im here .. im doing it ;) )


kpm©