The only way to protect myself was to become the devil I knew. He was mean and took all his feelings out on me. When I got older, I looked for him in the eyes of the men who were attracted to me, long before I understood I was searching for my abuser. I needed to find him, he had to pay for the pain he caused. Pay for the childhood he stole. He was able to walk away without suffering the consequences and I would have my revenge.
I was not able to unravel the twisted "why?". I would never allow myself to be present with anyone because I wasn't sure what would happen if I did. I had to control it. I got really good at disappearing, until one man told me I disconnected like a dude.
"Yes, and your point? You are not here to love me. You are not here to be loved by me", I was matter of fact in my response to him trying to shame me.
"We both know what this is, this is business. A simple transaction nothing more".
"Damn girl, you don't have to be so cold", he tried to soften the mood.
"Yes I do". I was bored once we both knew the real deal. I felt sorry for him. He would not survive me and we both knew it. We were both trapped inside some sick twisted play, acting out our pain.
The fear of being controlled and losing myself over to the power of someone else was way too high a price to pay. I abandoned the possibility of recovering myself and began manipulating to survive. The physical abuse had long stopped but it was too late, I became the abuser and I was deadly. Not able to separate myself from the pain, I surrendered to it. I could always disappear when it got to be too much. Hide out and let the man in me take over. No one was coming to save me and I wouldn't trust them if they did. I couldn't recover the self I lost. I was broken and wounded beyond recovery and the bits and pieces I was able to hold together were beginning to fail me. I was left with masculine energy that wanted to dominate and the moment I felt unmatched in power, I'd bounce. I liked to play with my food and it stopped being fun when I saw weakness. He started talking about love and marriage and I wasn't done playing. So no, this is the end of the line for you, NEXT!.
Boys will be boys and sometimes little girls need to be boys to survive.
If you choose me, I can't trust your motives. I'm suspicious of everyone and everything. Spidey senses activated and I'm hypervigilant. It's my super power.
I was addicted to finding other lost souls that were as damaged as me because I was not ready to address the damage. I normalized the horror. I didn't understand the ramifications. I survived but at what cost? The abuse controlled how I felt about love, community and family. I was stuck believing I would never be good enough, never loved enough and that is how I made my choices; from the bottom because scraps were what I believed I deserved.
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