This is why I write what I write most times.
When does it ever stop?
Will it ever stop?
Most days I’m fine then something like this happens and it stirs up all the memories, all the shit, all the pain.
The most powerful words ever spoken to me: “He can’t hurt you anymore.”.
No maybe not physically, yet carrying years of memories in my skin can’t be of any help either. Because he wasn’t the only one. There were so many.
Sneaky gropes, words, innuendos and the actual physical assaults over the years as a child and an adult.
I ran away from home at fifteen to get away and found myself experiencing even more assaults because I didn’t know how to protect myself except to step away inside, go to a space where no one could get to.
Floodgates have opened here because of #notokay
Now I need to decide whether to shut them down, dam it up or let it loose and wash over me.
(photo credit Wilowispaperio, 2016)