Blame Game 

…and what business did I have sleeping with someone who didn’t see my value?
I blame myself for much of the circumstance. Not the act. I can see it on the faces of others too. Unspoken words resting quietly on the pursed lips, casual sex is still forbidden for women. So much talk of worth and the preciousness between our thighs. Was my only mistake the flippant disregard of my chastity?

God incepted me with the thought, “I will have healed when I can forgive him for searching for power through my body.” An energetic goldmine, I almost can’t blame him. Except I most certainly can. It’s left my boundaries weak. Unable to keep others out of me, my body “overheats” and shuts down so easily. Jessica, You must be responsible for the energy you bring into this space. So, then, it is my fault.

Back and forth I ping-pong between finding solace in my naivety that I had no idea he would violate me in all the ways that he did. To asking myself to take responsibility for the circumstance which made it possible AND the eventual silence which made it look complicit. In shock by the audacity I survived in the best way I knew how. Only I ask myself why I didn’t know better?

None of it is what I’m supposed to be doing. Certainly not negotiating with myself. Surely not sharing it with the world. A woman, me…I, should be able to engage in sexual activities with a partner or partners without an expressed wish for commitment AND without her self appraisal being questioned. It is possible to love myself to honor myself to cherish myself and to value myself without others’ interrogating my evidence. Without my own interrogation. More tear soaked tshirts. Pillows. Blankets. How much of it do I comfortably carry? How much of it was mine?

Does any woman who has experienced rape ever truly believe she was not to blame? I’ll bet she simply stops admitting it out loud. Drowning in the chorus of “Its Not Your Fault”, does she ever break to the surface gasp for breath and cry, “but maybe…”

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