Sweet sixteen. The first time he hit me I was sweet sixteen. Mixed up in things no girl has a place in, but there all the same. Loving a monster whose claim to me seemed to give him the right to hurt me. Terror…anger…confusion…sadness…fear. No-one to talk to about it, because all of my friends were caught up in sweet sixteen things like puppy love, studying for exams and planning for the next fete. Fighting hard to stay afloat, and to keep up with sweet sixteen things like puppy love, exams and fetes, I buried myself within myself. Buried the humiliation, the anger and the pain. Pretended that this was love, and that it was okay for him to treat me that way. Too scared to leave a man-boy I did not even live with. Terrified beyond measure, I learnt to fight with lips sealed. Learnt to become volatile and submissive all at once.
Twenty years of age. Excited to be in university and away from home. New lease on life…freedom. New boyfriend; new experiences…new life. He came to my room on hall one night and dragged me down a flight of stairs. I lost a shoe along the way. Trying to save face, so I passed room after room with sleeping and waking bodies…making an effort to be silent so that no-one would witness my shame. Betrayed again by someone who whispered ‘I love you’ in moments of passion. Quieting my voice, and allowing his anger free reign to silence me once again.
Twenty-two. One blow to the face. One slap to make me reconsider my decision to go. I fought back this time. This one was not going to reduce me to silence…so I fought back; burying the pain felt at the familiarity of this…this feeling that can never be put into words. The absolute pain and disbelief that comes when hands that were meant to caress are clenched into fists of fury. This feeling of having my voice ripped out of me. This feeling of not mattering to someone who mattered to me.
I am crying as I write this. Crying for the girl-woman that was; but also in thanks and respect for her strength. What others saw as weakness was her way of coping…of bearing the pain to save others…my mother from the hurt of knowing that had happened…a selfish university student whose school life she did not want to be cut short…
Silence is the great captor of experience. It allows tragedies to continue unacknowledged…and monsters in the form of wo/men to inflict their pain on others.
This is my Story of Strength.
thank you for being strong and helping others to find their strength. You have helped me to feel stronger by sharing your story.
5 yrs old…middle of the night…she has to pee. When she returns to the bed, there is no space where she laid between her mother and younger sister. Now, all of the space is near her mother’s boyfriend. She goes to get in where she fits in, and his private is sticking out of his boxers. His eyes are closed and she holds it, rubs it, kinda like how she would massage a mold of clay at school during art classes. Here begins her introduction to manhood.
8 yrs old…middle of the night…watching tv with her mother’s cousin. He rubs her in places that feel sooo good and sooo wrong all at once. He leaves the room and she flees into the bath, attempting to scrub away feelings that aren’t merely physical. She rubs until she is raw and goes to lie down in her room…where she feels safe. He enters without an invitation to tell her that he loves her and his smile has become haunted and she feels hollow and grimy.
11 yrs old…middle of the night…how will she tell her mother that the man that she loves, the man she trusted around her children, has been touching her for months. Countless times he has climbed into her bed, turned her small body away so she was facing the wall and curved her into him so that his penis was against her ass. His fingers touching places that she is afraid to allow boys her OWN age to caress. How does she break her mother’s heart?
11 yrs old…early morning…the truth comes to light. She is called a liar, looked at with eyes that shout, “You are too curious…fast…promiscuous.” She is forced to tell the police who have worked so hard to build a case to place this monster behind bars, that the case they built was placed on a shaky foundation. She knew the truth, as did the investigator, yet…she needed to appease others.
Now, she tells her story to appease herSelf, to warn people that these things are not just in Lifetime movies, Terry McMillan books or Tyler Perry screen plays. To remind women that they are not alone…they are NEVER alone. And one story of strength has the power to strengthen us all.
I love, love, love you woman…so brave you are to share this story of strength. You continue to inspire me daily…thankful that I am able to share this journey with you.
I love, love, love you, too
This has to stop…..it really is an epidemic……thx for sharing…love love..love and more love
You are right…epidemic really is the best way to put it; but it is one that is allowed to spread because we stay silent…Here’s to raising our voices and to having the courage to know that whatever happened IS NOT OUR FAULT, so we have the right and the obligation to our daughters, sisters and friends TO SPEAK!!! Love right back to you.
Danni I love you for being you……….the strong woman that you are especially for being strong enough to share a story that will serve to empower others. Strong enough to be able to show love to others after a situation like this. Strong enough to know that for sure you will NEVER go back to a place like that again. Strong enough to teach your daughter that that behaviour from a man is definitely NOT acceptable. Thank you for sharing and I love you.
LOVE YOU!!!! Thank you baby-girl
I know of which you speak… but the only one I didn’t damage is the one who still lives next door to me. All I want to do is throw rocks through his window, and scream down this piss-ass SILENT-ABOUT-HIM-BUT-THEY-ALL-KNOW neighbourhood, and POINt my finger and say: HERE THERE BE MONSTERS! But the older I get, is the more silent I am forced to become. A few nights ago, as he stopped to ‘talk’ to my brother, I lost my temper and stalked outside and said, “WHy don’t you go your way and leave my family the fuck alone.”
My brother said to me, “Eh, stop dat.”
And so… unless I allow the rage to overwhelm me and through all ‘propriety’ to the wind, I am FORCED into silence by the status quo of a society that still undervalues it’s women and children.
I saw fuck that… the next time that bitch so much as blinks at someone in my family and I witness it, I will cuss his ass again. And again. And again. Because strength in silence is bullshit, and if I have to live next door to a monster, I’ll open my mouth and tell every damn body. Why must I protect him… instead, I will master the art of PROJECTING my voice, so when I shout out, “MONSTER” they hear me two avenues across.
Wankers…
Oh yeah, and I love you!
To you our Mothers, Wives, Sisters, our Nurturers, Teachers, Lovers… fragile, vulnerable yet beautifully strong, so wonderfully made….
I apologize, as Man I am far from perfect, far from innocent because I am Man.
I have not committed any of these ugly, horrific acts, but I apologize, for the ignorance of the monsters who called themselves men, who betrayed you, hurt you, defiled you and denied you your birthright, to be treated as the Queen you as Woman, truly are.
As Man I beg you to forgive me on behalf of those cowards who took your innocence, abused your love, who could not see you for who you are…
Woman everything Man should ever want or need, beautifully strong, so wonderfully made….
Dani,
Love you babes, you don’t even know how much you have encouraged me to come out of my shell on the matters of the heart. To forgive, to overcome heartbreak, rejection you are an amazing women and I love you for what you have given to me courage, friendship and my niece.
I know where your strength comes from deep deep inside, as you work to shield other young women from this awful endemic that has become the norm in a lot of society, especially ours. The silence of women who walk around happy as a lark who become role models and their realities are so far from the happiness they exude.
Some of these women instead of actually working to write this wrong straight with the next generation choose to be abusive themselves when they receive power as they have not healed. It is sad to watch them self destruct with the hate they carry and not shed through counselling and good friends (like you) that would let them know they have a problem.
Gurl, keep on trodding and sharing your love.
Hug up, hug up
C
You sooo inspire me too sistren
Brave. Honest. Necessary. Shaking. Illuminating. A haunting cluster of chapters in the book of a beautiful, strong, and amazing woman.
I Love You
I so adore you.
I saw stars
I was 19 & pregnant
talking to my father on the phone…I hung up and lay down beside my husband…he accused me of speaking in a suggestive tone to my father…and when I told him that was stupid bullshit…he slapped me so hard that I fell back onto the bed and saw stars
Like they do in cartoons
my head buzzed for the next day or so…
that was the first time
the last time
he held my arms behind my back and beat me with his belt for refusing to have sex with him
after that time
I waited for him to fall asleep and I tried to kill him
he woke up
and left
forever
even though he is the father of my two oldest
I have only seen him three times, since the night I retaliated
Omi this is so painful and powerful…what is especially amazing is who you have had the strength to become…not allowing that man’s pain and anger to define who you know yourself to be…Love you Mama!
O…this story, right here is WHY you are the mother that you are. WHY you are the Goddess, Queen, Iyawo and now Iyalorisha that you are. Our experiences shape us…and I’m so glad to have you for a SiStar. Realest ting.
I am filled with pain and sorrow and at the same time proud of all of you who have had the courage to share your painful, yet strengthening experiences. To my daughter I say that I always knew you were powerful, but I didn’t know how strong and powerful you really are. I praise you for having the courage to share, but it filled me with deep pain and sorrow.
I experience many years of emotional and mental abuse before finding the courage to move on, with a lifelong vow to NEVER EVER allow anyone to have that kind of power over my again. I have since found internal peace and happiness.