My She-roes

A few nights ago I was browsing blogs and found one of the most important I've ever come across.  Violence Unsilenced is a space where survivors of rape and abuse share their stories.  I was up until 2:00am reading every type of horror.  And I couldn't look away.  

I marveled in their strength.  I could hear their voices shaking with rage and terror and my body could almost feel each invasion, each abuse.  At the end of their stories I could also sense the hope and pride.  Of being a survivor, a victor against the monsters that had brought all of their nightmares.  

The statistics are still mind numbing.  From 1 in 3 up to 1 in 7.  The reports vary but are always frightening.  Any women, or young girl, walking down the street has a high, very high chance of being raped or abused.  Or they may already be living that hell.  

How do we protect ourselves?  Our daughters?  How do we teach our sons to treat women with respect?  That no, most certainly, means no.  

Alice Walker's character Sofia stated, "A girl child ain't safe in a family of men." (Color Purple)  And sadly, in so many cases, this holds true.  

My ex-gf had been molested by her oldest brother and father.  She was raped repeatedly by another brother and when she finally told, in the 3rd grade, nothing happened.  He was sent to live with their grandparents for a little while, but she never received any support or help.  It was swept under the rug and stayed there.  During the few years before we met, she was raped two more times by acquaintances.  She never told anyone but me.  Before we started having sex, she made sure to get an HIV test because of the most recent rape.  

And how did all of it affect her?  She was an alcoholic and pothead.  She was addicted to porn and we had a very one sided sexual relationship.  I was not allowed to really touch her.  She was plagued by nightmares and phobias and I had no idea how to help her.  I was simply her life raft.  Holding her afloat but not really helping.  Our relationship was based on her needing "me" and me hoping to save her.  It was destined to fail.  

I absolutely HATED her one brother with every fiber of my being.  Being around him made me nauseous and seeing him enjoying his every day life was almost too much to bear.  I wanted him to hurt as much as she did.  I wanted him to lose everything he loved.  To become a shell of a person who had no one and nothing.  I never hated anyone before, until I met this piece of shit.  

The 2 1/2 years that we were together were tumultuous at best.  Having to be around her family was always something to steel ourselves for.  Her rising anxiety would throw me into an uber calm.  I was always the perfect face of politeness, even though on the inside I was seething with anger.  I tried to be the nice girlfriend when all I wanted to do was get us the hell out of there.  To escape back to our own life and the safety of our home.  

Our relationship could not last.  I wasn't the right person for her because I didn't really understand what she needed.  I became a huge bitch and when she finally broke up with me, it was quite a relief.  We had survived in chaos mode for so long.  Both of us needing something that the other person couldn't give.  

After we broke up I heard that she was drinking even more than usual, doing more drugs.  It made me so sad for her.  Knowing that her family would not be a support.  She even became a stripper for a short time.  Of course I made jokes about that, but on the inside I grieved for her.  No matter how we ended, she had been such an important person in my life.  

A month or so after I met Rebeca, she called me.  We met for lunch and I saw how horribly skinny she had gotten and how ashen her face was.  She wanted to get back together.  And as I sat across from her, I felt absolutely nothing.  I didn't want to save her anymore, I didn't feel responsible.  I told her no, gently but firmly.  I hugged her good-bye, feeling every bone in her back.  She didn't even feel familiar anymore.   I wished her well and as I drove away, I said a silent prayer for her.  Because I really did want the best for her.  

To think of what she could have been.  If none of those "men" had abused her.  It's heart wrenching.  She has time, of course, but I think the destruction is still taking it's toll on her.  We're "friends" on F.B, but we don't interact.  I watch from afar, checking in on her page, and seeing that she still seems to find her happy in a pint.  

I hope that one day she'll be able to become herself.