Cleansing rage

Dear Loco,

I worked, and then proceeded to go to the house with my jaw held tense in anger.

I got there and Sam didn’t even look at me so I said (in my head) “Fuck this, I’m here for mom” (half-lie, surely). I ignored everybody. Then Josh waved and I waved back. He’s always managed to be Switzerland (well-suited to him).

Then, the thing happened. I saw this man get off the bike. He is to head to the gate but he stares at me like a piece of meat and then moves in my direction even though I’m in the opposite direction of the gate. I gave him the dirtiest look.
I went in and mum said “This is xyz” and my gaze softened and then as she went to introduce me I leaned in. As I did, he “fell” on me with all the grace of a flamingo. Nobody falls that gracefully.

I still remember as he held on to me.

I feel, now, shame. Shame I let him hold on. I can still remember how my body felt standing there helpless and embarrassed. It all happened so fast.
Everybody went to his rescue first. As he immediately, with the precision of a hunter, began to explain himself not seconds later – mum comes to his rescue and says “Yeah, yeah you fell”

I didn’t even know how to process those few seconds or how to be. Uncle Horace was like 30% supportive. That predator came again to explain his fuck-all self. I walked off. I loudly said “Ma, I hope you didn’t buy that”. Again she says, “I fell on that step”.

I came home and processed somethings:
1. He fell way too gracefully
2. His weight fell perfectly where it needed to and he stayed way too long
3. He wasn’t startled and explained himself right away.
4. He overexplained himself

Things that made me mad:
1. He did it in plain sight.
2. and, then, people fussed over him and nobody once asked me if I was okay
3. I also helped him, kinda. Had to stand there and pry him off me and then hug him. God, Loco, I feel so gross with myself.,
4. I knew, and nobody else did.
5. He did it in plain fucking sight.
6. He definitely enjoyed this, and nobody said anything
7. Mum came to his rescue.

As I write this, I realize I give him too much credit. I won’t discount he has done this before and got off on it. I will also say it doesn’t make him worth a Netflix docu profile. He’s just a sick fuck with a mind for only sick fuckery.

I felt lonely and wounded when I came back. How was I to explain to somebody else why this was awful. How do I explain a history of hating touch. The reasonable rage that came with being left as a child defenseless with no care givers or guardians to protect or even shield. I feel embarrassed to say to someone else “I had this much abuse”, won’t the eventual question be “What did you do?” Isn’t it supposed to be a one-off horrible thing but this much abuse, and this much trauma. I feel the need to justify it by saying “Hey, look my parents weren’t around, my drug-addled uncle and sedated grandmother raised me” “My mum didn’t have time to pay attention”. All my feelings like “I hate her for doing that to me, for not keeping me safe” feels like it’s not for “polite society”. I just felt helpless and lonely.

I missed you so dearly. Crushing you in my arms as you gently protested. You got my anger. You stayed, you forgave, you always came back.

I did have something though, and this, my thanks says everything:

Thank you to all the women who held space for my rage (who didn’t also make me feel like it was ugly), who shared their wisdom, who shared their stories, who even went so far as to (inadvertently or on purpose) help navigate me to a safe space by asking about my kitties.
I went through all the stages of grief.
Denial (that didn’t really happen, did it)
Anger (fuck him)
Bargaining (But, what ifs)
Depression (My poor cats who got smushed)
Acceptance (I don’t give away my power when somebody else chooses violence and perversion)
I am so incredibly grateful because my first instinct was to delete everything and tell myself “nobody will get it”. But I didn’t have to justify my history to anybody. It was enough that this isolated incident happened and it was not okay. I can only hope and pray all women find themselves the right kind of community.

Bruja, Mastodon

Today, I am grateful for:
This community of women, and
My ability to trust that I knew what I knew.

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