Hello, dear reader. Maybe you’re here because you’re feeling devastated too. Maybe you’re here because you’re hoping I’ll make you laugh. I hate to disappoint you, dear reader, but that’s not where I am right now.
Today, my government decided (again) that my voice, and the voices of millions of women (and men) screaming “PLEASE STOP” didn’t matter. Today as a country, we experienced together the trauma that so many assault survivors go through. Sounds crazy, but bear with me. We said “no”. We said “WE DON’T WANT THIS”. We begged for them to stop, they tuned us out and did what they had planned on doing all along.
Nothing helped. Nothing made any difference in the end result. They didn’t care. They never did. We knew that, and we allowed them to scrape open our deepest wounds anyway.
I have no cute bow to tie this up in. I have nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Tomorrow, I will look for the hope. I will begin to wrap my brain around the words that we need to get us through this. But for today, I have nothing. Nothing but the smell of the sheet that my middle school youth ministers fouled up to illustrate what we were like if we were sexually tainted before marriage. Nothing but a strange old man grabbing me and kissing me at age 16 in our church atrium. Nothing but the paralyzing feeling of knowing that nobody would believe me. Nothing but my boyfriend screaming at me for a flashback to my first assault during sex, then demanding that I allow him to touch me however he pleased because I “owed” it to him.
I have nothing tonight. But tomorrow is coming. And I won’t stay in this place. I refuse.