Posts Tagged ‘Men’

He has lines, and I wanted to cross them. I needed to be dirt under his nails, sweat from his pores. There’s something enticing about someone who wants you despite his own guilt, who knows he’ll fuck the whole thing up. A year of ‘look but don’t touch’ and I had to push him.

When he kissed me, there was no hesitance, no slow build. He tastes earthy, salty, but surprisingly sweet. His hands felt rough on my face, his body against mine brand new but achingly familiar, a sense of coming home. He lived a whole life before I even existed, with his own hopes and ideals and fuck-ups and bullshit. There’s something sexy about someone with scars and lines and baggage. Who has experience and prejudice and set opinions, a sharp contrast to my changeable ideals, my fluidity towards life.

Of course it was over almost immediately, not severed completely, because people can be addictive. There is no happy ending here, but also no expectations. I shattered the fantasy. We hurt each other. I’ve never wanted something so totally unattainable like this. It doesn’t exist in reality.

So sometimes we pretend.

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I don’t know how to shake it off.

I’m so ashamed of myself, ashamed of my life. I feel so much guilt over, well…everything.

Today in therapy we spoke briefly about the ‘honouring what you did to survive’ approach, and I just..don’t…can’t… get it. I’m ashamed for coping the way I did, the way I am.

I’m ashamed for being a fairly typical ‘childhood sexual abuse survivor’.

I don’t think I’ve done anything so averagely, so textbook in my whole life, especially while trying not to.

And fuck that pisses me off.

I feel guilty for being raped, feel ashamed, feel like I shouldn’t say no to sex, and all of that is to be expected.

Sometimes I just hate myself.

I know logically what happened wasn’t my fault, wasn’t my choice. I know logically that people react in different ways to things. But at what point does ‘reaction’ become ‘choice’? We can choose how we react to some degree, yes? But to what degree are our choices influenced by our environment, our experiences, our stories?

Realising how typical I am in so many ways, I guess it’s made me question the affect all of the ‘trauma’ – not just the abuse – has had on my life, my decisions. A few years ago, I would have said ‘  Very little ‘, or even ‘ I don’t think what’s happened would really qualify as trauma ‘.

I don’t believe that anymore, not at all…

And the big questions – What would my relationships be like if I wasn’t so…damaged…? Would I have been able to hold my marriage together? Would I have even gotten married?

Would my child have a better chance of growing up mentally healthy? Of having a stable life, an appropriate childhood? Would he be having these adjustment issues with school?

Will he remember the time we went outside at night to sing ‘Twinkle twinkle’, or the time I snapped at him because he crept up behind me? The day we built a cubby under the table and pretended the cat was a tiger, or the morning I couldn’t get out of bed?


I’m still single, and I’m not really seeing The Dr regularly – no particular reason really, just our lives don’t really…mesh…right now, and I’d really like to just cope with myself first. Well, ok, I won’t ‘like’ it, but I know it’s better this way.

Have a beautiful weekend my friends 🙂


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