Imani Wisdom's brainchild -- Pink Noire Publications -- has been known for her unpredictable style of storytelling. Now its founder is expanding the "pink and black" brand to shine on prolific artists. From the inspirationalist, Danica Worthy to bestselling author, Stacy Deanne, Pink Noire understand these talented individuals know how to express their craft through words, song, dance, and stroke of a brush.

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I lay helpless, piercing my eyes to the basement ceiling wondering how I allow myself to get here to this point.  The nighttime remains in a cool stillness through a small window. Among his heavy breathing are background inaudible male voices. The darkness drapes their bodies.  Only a strong scent of cigarette smoke strangles my airwaves.  My mind says to leave, but my body is numb with fear.  After all, I’m the one insist on being a part of this party. 

Inside of my teenage mind, I thought I needed to be a part of a crowd.  You know, to be liked.  When I came to that party I lived on weed and alcohol.  Then the next I knew, I was in the basement lying numb and confused on a mattress.

The intention was to hang out with a male friend of whom I like a lot. His charm and good looks mesmerize a fast attraction.  Plus, he was one of the popular kids at school.  And it didn’t hurt he was one of the best players on the basketball team.

Though, the memories of that night of that stranger’s heavy breathing had left me nauseous.  This person was moving inside of me without an ounce of my enjoyment.  I turned my head back at the window, wondering how I could be so stupid by listening to my friend.  Staring through the glass at the long leafless branches on a nearby tree I asked myself, “Why me”. 

Then in the corner of my eye, someone struck a lighter of an orange-bluish flame.  My obscure vision saw the shadowy count.  It had to been at least four of them, and the fifth one was trapping me between his large body and the bed like he was the head conductor on their train. 

I had suddenly developed courage from every part of my body to scream the word “no”.  It didn’t stop him.  Actually, he breathlessly laughed as if the word no was dark humor.  The other pieces to his train, along with the caboose (my friend) chuckled as well. 

Needless to say the rest is history…

It’s another Imani’s “How to” Moment”, and rather a personal one.  At that time, I thought everything from the time I set foot inside of the head conductor’s house, to the last perverted satisfaction by the caboose; I thought all of it was my fault. 

I even said no. I mean, I said a loud resounding get-the-f**k-off-from-me-no.  Still in the end, I sat on the rough and lumpy mattress in tears.  That night changed me.  Forget being haunted by the constant reminders of drafty basements, alcoholic scents, and egotistical laughter. It was the smaller things from that night that had ingrained in my mind to this date. 

Among the other things from my past, I didn’t realize the gravity of that night until I got older; when relationships were difficult to keep; when I confused sex as a form of love; when I lived a destructive lifestyle; when food was my way out; when I couldn’t see past the darkness; when hope was a lost cause, when bitterness infused of who I was, and when my trust for men didn’t exist.

How did I overcome it?

Well, overcoming sexual abuse is powerful.  A person just cannot get over it, we have to move on.  The emotional scars will always be there, its learning how to cope with those scars is what matter. 

So my Imani’s “How to” Moment is gear toward the survivors (men or women) of all forms of abuse.  Hopefully, you sought counseling and you’re moving from the bondage.  Les not forget the ones who still lives with the open wounds of their abuse. Some chooses not to seek help at all.  Perhaps shame has got the best of them, especially men (and yes, there are more men who had their innocence shattered according to what the national statistics says.  It’s underreported due to shame and guilt).

We need to be the voice for the voiceless.  If you suspect a child is being abused, please contact your local authorities.  The cycle of self-destruction needs to stop.  Survivors of abuse tend to become abusers to others, or themselves with addictive personalities. I’m living witness to it. Food was my addiction.

As for the guys from that night, I don’t know where most of them are.  I could care less.  What I have done is to forgive them.  Yes, you read right—I’ve forgiving them.  It’s not for their benefit, but for mine. I had to move on. Otherwise, I’ll remain in their emotional bondage forever, and I don’t think we were meant to live in anyone’s bondage. Do you?



TamluvstoWrite said...

I love this and it's so true. I being a victim of molestation. I learn to forgive him for me so I could move forward.

Imani said...

That's right! You have to forgive and move forward. Otherwise, they will win.