Jammin my heart out to the sultry sounds of aaradnah out here in Gangnam, Seoul, South Korea.
Man it has been such a long time since I moved my inexperienced behind across the seas.
Any differences to how I felt before heading out here.
The people that I knew, know and loved befor I moved here will be able to see that difference. For me I know that there are several questions that have been answered. Morals that have been confirmed and teachings from my parents that I know now were always for the best.
Despite the beauty that I have found in my perpetually disorganised existence, a bruised past has yet again come back into my life.
A friend that I love and trust and consider family by this point has suffered similar scars.
These scars when I originally began to acknowledge them became what defined my life and my identity. Gone were the titles and identities that I had accumulated of daughter, student, friend, go-getting independent young woman, sister, granddaughter, niece, church family member, literacy lover, writer, book nerd, opinionated young woman. Beautiful inside and out by popular misconception.
I just became one word in my mind. Abused. The thing about being abused and labelling yourself as abused is that it comes with an eternity of different epithets. Powerless. Fearful. Self-Questioning. Ignored. Unheard. Voiceless. Unstable. Distraught. Rebel without a cause. Hateful. Self-loathing. Lifeless. Soulless. Meaningless. Worthless. Disgusting. Ugly from the inside out. Spiteful. Mistrusting. Misunderstood. Deprived. Vengeful. Oftentimes suicidal.
It’s an undestatement to say “it was not a fun time.”
But this was the catchphrase that I had coined whenever (after finally finding the courage to) I would voice the fact that I was abused, mentally, physically and sexually.
By someone who was loved by my family.
Someone who a lot of my brothers and fellow family members looked up to and wanted to be like.
It is extremely discomforting to see my abuser. Even after all of this time he still has the nerve to say hi to me and expect recognition from me.
Here’s the part that many people myself included will be baffled by.
I say hi back.
That’s right, no misprint, no mistake I still say hi to the motherfucker.
For a long time I thought it was the right thing to do.
To bury the hatchet. To let bygones be bygones. What sexual abuse and psychological manipulation? Pfffffffffffffft… it’s in the past. The past isn’t in my present.
All of those mantras that we as humans find comfort in from past mistakes and mishaps.
But something got me wondering.
Why should I still have contact with him?
Why should I care about how he feels?
Why should I accept him still as a family member?
Why should I have to endure his presence when all it is is an illusion?
Nothing takes away from the fact that he changed my innocent perspective.
Nothing can change the fact that he did these horrible things to me as a child for a prolonged amount of time.
Nothing can remove this from my mind, from my past.
I’m thankful that after such a long time of wayward wandering, overthinking, meditating, re-creating my life, changing my perspective of myself. After finally accepting that whatever happened in the past, this black mark on my life’s story, I was completely blameless. That I didn’t do anything to deserve it. That I was only a child at the time. After finally trusting this new information and being set free from my self hate I realised that it was all him. He made the decision. He manipulated me into believing that it was a normal interaction between cousins. He filled my mind with ideas of reciprocating disgusting acts. In absolutely no way at all did I contribute to the beginning of this encounter. All I did was be young and innocent and apparently that is sexually attractive for some people.
I was five.
That started 21 years ago and lasted for what seemed like a lifetime.
I forgave him only for my peace of mind. He doesn’t deserve a place in my future and I am not interested in what happens to his. But he wants to send me a fb friend request. He wants to like my statuses.
After talking to my friend who showed me his wounds he asked why and how people are able to keep communicating with people who treated another human being so inhumanely.
And I couldn’t come up with any reasons.
Except to keep the peace.
But who is he that I should be afraid?
Am I still that scared little five year old girl who was manipulated away from playing with my family members?
I am strong, successful young woman who is living her life by God’s grace.
A life that though forgiveness is needed for future progress and sound mind no longer has time or energy left for people who bring or represent hate.
People who don’t acknowledge that they are in fact disgusting human beings who tortured souls and caused damage and shattered lives.
Above all what I realised is that damaged is a state of mind.
And that is not what I am today.
So may God forgive that person as I will delete that person from my future and life.
Free. In love with today. No looking back.