As a little girl, I was taught to be feminine and to present myself to the world in a certain way. My mom did my hair every day. She would dress me up in tights, a slip, shiny shoes and a dress. The tights were itchy, the slip was either too tight or would hang. I would always scuff my shoes. And my dress would never fit properly due to my shape. I was uncomfortable. There were times my braids were too tight or would come loose. I would ‘sweat out’ my hair. I didn’t like pink or frilly looks. It held me back from playing comfortably and to me… being cute didn’t equal being strong. You had to be strong even as a little girl in ‘the hood’.
I am still the same way. I find it hard to conform to what the world says that women should look or act like. I would not wear a girdle after having my twins. First off, I couldn’t afford one, lol. Still to this day, I love my full belly. It was home to the sweet young men that I raised. I’m not shapely as I was but that was not as important to me. And as a mature woman, most of all, the biggest issue I have with the world is getting people to understand that with all that I’ve faced in life… the fact that I even have a few strands of hair on my head or even made it out the house without losing it… was a miracle.
Even as a child when I was uncomfortable in my dresses, I didn’t list that the main reason why I didn’t care about wearing my dresses was because of how the little boys were notorious for trying to grab up under our skirts. I remember some of my school mates would wear shorts under their skirts. That’s how terrorized we were in elementary school. The teachers and aides could only protect us but so much. I even witnessed a classmate of mine get sexually assaulted on the school playground. One minute we were playing tag. Then the boy we played with told me to keep watch and he changed the rules of the game. He took my friend under a structure in the school yard and proceeded to… sexually assault her. We were all in first grade.
The stories of sexual assault and abuse has surrounded me for so long. I held back from telling these accounts not because I was ashamed. But because I straight up forgot. I was traumatized. FOR YEARS. That’s the stuff I put in the back of my brain. I tried to help others where I could even as a child. But I see how the lack of access to counselors/professionals to help victims lacks even today. How we can’t even freely discuss abuse and rape because we are shamed. We are sad, mad and everything in between. We even deny that these things occur. I didn’t want to believe that Bill Cosby or other prominent men did what they were accused of. But after how many women told their stories… And even years ago, I wanted to walk out of a Dave Chappelle show as he discussed that he was still on the fence about the Cosby allegations. But attacking him and other entertainers won’t help. We do need entertainment. But we need better laws, a better justice system, access to medical care for victims and families.
We need to have counselors on every corner and more social justice centers. Just like we have liquor stores and fast food on every few blocks. We need more financial assistance and day cares for families. We are on the right track but let’s try to do better so, we don’t have continued legacies of hurt, pain and living in victimhood.
It has taken me years to even admit to myself that I was victim of a crime when I was 15. I survived. I wasn’t fully raped, and I never saw this person again. But it has taken me nearly 40 years to admit this even happened. I’m not alone. The stories of rape, domestic violence, unsafe work environments go on and on. We have these laws on the books but time and time again us victims must shoulder the emotional toll. We also get sued. We get scandalized. Why didn’t we report it? Where were your parents? Why were you there? Why didn’t you leave? What did you wear? On and on and on.
If we fight back our abusers, we victims pay the price. We are sued. Can you imagine being sued in every court? We must recount our trauma repeatedly. We are recorded. We also must continue with life. Going back to work, raising kids (who also are traumatized), or sometimes going back into the home with our perpetrator. Can you imagine what it feels like to sleep with the person that threatens and abuses you? But where do you go? How to you keep your career? Where are the laws to protect?
So, when you see someone that may not look like they have it all together…it’s not low self-esteem. Maybe she is figuring out her escape. Maybe she is tired. Maybe she was up all night trying to control herself, so she doesn’t just kill the fool that is taking her peace. Maybe she is juggling a job she doesn’t want to be at, crying at night, praying for her children, hoping that she can get that second job just to make sure the kids have gifts. Its that little bit of sanity she is clinging to; not wanting to whoop someone’s behind as they are asking about her appearance.
My emotions have been on such great highs and lows for years. As much as I would read about the lives of other women, as much as I knew to try to protect myself…I still was abused, scandalized, hurt, shamed and gossiped about. But folks don’t understand… I am here! By the grace of God. I am here. Do you know why I had that drink? Do you know why my style didn’t matter? Do you know why I didn’t leave? Did you ask about my family? No, but you asked over and over about me keeping my hair maintained.
Let’s also pray for the inner peace of others; our domestic violence sufferers, rape and assault victims, mothers that make tough choices daily. Pray for the children that witness this. Pray for the families that keep these secrets. Pray for the counselors, medical community, the legal community, the storytellers that hear these stories all day. Pray for the untreated. Pray for those that can’t get out of bed. Pray for those that need that narcotic. Even pray for the unkind, the uninformed and even the perpetrators. Pray for those especially that didn’t survive.
I know I too need to do better. I wasn’t a great friend, neighbor, family member or co-worker. I’ve went from people pleasing, thanking the world for everything and even defending abusers myself. It’s tough trying to get that mask on and hide all these feelings just to be pleasant. So, I say again, don’t ask me, anymore.
And in case, I wasn’t clear… #metoo
