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?
