It started with Donald Trump.
His words. His tone. His mindset.
It reminded me of never telling anyone about what I experienced.
Just looking at that sentence, the way the words are hanging in the air of an otherwise blank page seemingly uncapable of bearing such a worldshattering weighted statement.
He did. He raped me.
More than that, it is because I remained silent that he would be able to rape another.
When I hear Trump’s words, it all flooded back to me.
Being grabbed by the pussy. Being told he owned it. Not that way he would a more prized status symbol. He just owned me. Like husband’s used to not even 100? years ago? That’s how primative this is. That was his mindset. Ive seen it up close and personal. There is no way to spin it. It’s so obviously ugly … or it should be. This is the only “should” I am certain of.
The anxiety set in. The post traumatic stress. I couldnt sleep. I cut into my skin. I tried to snap out of it. I overcompensate for the inevitable low swing by trying to get as high as possible.
Movement. Endorphines. Hormones. THC. Humor.
I reach out to friends and who should reach back but one of my oldest, dearest friends. But she’s flailing and gasping for air. She is being confined to a small place by the love of her life. The father of her children. He loves her, but when the alcohol owns him, he owns her. He grabs her by the pussy mentally. A real mind fuck.
And I remember.
Once youve seen it for yourself up close and personal, there is no unseeing that. You become more atuned to where that frequency resides and how to avoid it, but it never goes away. It is very similar to a parallel universe. Just beneath the surface.
Why are women still having exposure to such an experience?
Are we still so uncivilized? Are we still so primitive in consciousness that we are unable to morally conceive that one human sbould not be, even in the mindset, owning another human?