A year ago, I stumbled upon PWP. I looked around and wondered, "How the bloody hell did I find myself here?" "Here" had two definitions. The first definition was a noun that described the confusion, pain and misplaced digust of a twenty year old Black girl who got raped by her white ex boyfriend. The second definition was this place and how mindboggling (and during my cynical period, slightly annoying) the idea that a pretty, naked lady could be composed of all the sickness that abusive men placed on innocent people. That was a year ago. That was me then. Who I am now is still very similar to the description underneath my profile name. I am still wide eyed and knobby kneed. However, the difference that a year has created is apparent. Although I am capable of giving you lot flowery prose to describe my metamorphsis, I feel a simple and precise list would be less pretenious and time-consuming.

1) I have real hair now! lol. I now wear the hair that God and evolution gave me. If you don't understand the big deal about that, watch "Good Hair" and find a Black woman near you. lol

2) I am starting to trust people. Actually, I realize now that my capacity to trust did not totally disappear. I still dunno if i should be afraid of that quality or thankful that I still have it. Should I treat my capacity to trust like Neo did the pill or cherishes it like an elderly woman would a compliment?

3) I have a bf. Still dunno how I feel about that either. But I'm willing to take it in stride and see. He's leaving me to go abroad for a semester. Time will tell how I feel better.

4) I'm  using the tools that I have been giving others to rebulid myself. When I say "giving", I mean the advice that I given to other people. I have the "nice girl Achilles heel." The bitchy girl's Achilles heel is insecurity. The nice girl's achilles heel is lack of knowledge about their goods. I am giving myself the mercy that I always gave to others. That is one of the best gifts I have ever given myself.

5) I'm taken the second chance that I received and running like hell with it.

6) I cook a lot more now. It's kind of like that movie "For Water like Chocolate", except less sexist and more empowering.

7) I'm not letting the way I died become who I am alive.

"Here" has a new definition. "Here" is a piece of time that constantly evolves. And I'm willing to be a part of it.

Before I start this entry, I need to give a shoutout to Yahoo email. You have helped me connect with singles, family members and my ex and former rapist. Fuck you very much. I deleted my rapist's contact info from my computer in April. In June, it still appears very brightly whenever he is online. Despite the fear coursing through my body, I send him a chat to ask him to take my info off of his address book. I thought that was the only reason why got a slight glance at his online activity. The reponse I got was a speech that revealed how nuts my ex was. After five minutes that I entitle, "Converstations with People A LOT more fucked up than me", I learned this lessons. 

1. I and everyone on PWP are not batshit crazy

2. I will never be as batshit crazy as the average rapist

3. If I can confront the amount of fear that happens when you talk to your rapist, I can conquer anything.

After my assualt, the perptrator and i still dated for a few months. My consular said that isn't a very uncommon reaction after partner rape. I couldn't really believe that he did that to me. I avoided thinking about it and when that stopped working, I tried to minimize its damage. That didn't work obviously. I feel guilty about my reaction. I didn't want to think that I was raped, so I tried to think that it was just a mistake. But it makes me wonder if I was really assualted. I know I said no and I know that, for a brief time immediately afterwards, I didn't feel good. But I wonder that because I repressed emotions, if I should really be complaining. Am I wrong for wondering that?

I haven't been very committed to writing in a journal. My insides are like a miasma and my repressed emotions choking me. What suggestions does anyone have for expressing myself?

I have a history of sex abuse. I suffered sex abuse when I was seven. After that was exposed, I buried my feelings but I couldn't do the same for the memories. I had a slew of "not rape" stories. Then when I was 19, I was raped by my now ex-boyfriend. The only reason why I haven't cracked up is.....actually I don't really know why. I just don't want to be so afraid of my own darkness that I'll let it eclispe me. I just can't. That's why I'm here. :)