It’s always the same thing, same nightmare, same face, same sound of my racing heart when I find myself in a dark corner wondering if he will be there standing with an emotionless expression on his face ready to strike or will he be standing behind me when I turn around? he always had a way of creeping behind me without a sound, waiting.
I hate that the memory of him is imprinted in my mind. He doesn’t deserve to be there. I’ve written many posts on giving fear the middle finger and not allowing oneself to become its bitch. I thought I worked past this but apparently not, considering I’ve recently rigged all my doors and windows to alert me just in case anyone opens them.
I won’t allow the nightmares to imprison me from a restful sleep nor will I be fearful of the dark corners in my home. How can one person bring on so much fear still after all this time? I’ve been beating myself up over this. I thought I was done, I thought I worked through this, I forgave him, I no longer have hate in my heart for the man who sexually, mentally and emotionally abused me. I thought I conquered that mountain. So I thought…….
I know that I have to acknowledge the wounds that remain open from the abuse I endured while under his roof. I will say this, what I thought I was getting into was a marriage of love and devotion. It was the picture he painted to make me believe and trust in him. Why would I not believe him? I’d known him for over twelve years, he knew what he wanted and that was me. He swept me off my feet once again with his charm. He showered me with love and he treated me like I meant something. For the first time, I felt safe. For the first time, I felt as though I was in a grown up relationship with someone who had their shit together.
But as soon as that ring was on my finger and I was all moved into his home (it was never our home) the veil fell, his true self emerged and boundaries were crossed; one of those I will share with you now.
***Trigger warning: what you are about to read may trigger memories of violation, abuse or rape. ***
On April 10th my power was taken. On this night I no longer saw him as my husband, on this night I stared at a man who didn’t give a shit about who I was. Wife or not…..I was just a body he could use without my consent.
He knew my routine. He knew there were nights that I would take a sleep aid to help me sleep. On this particular evening I just needed rest, I had been busting my ass with work and then coming home studying to become a certified medical coder until 10 or 11 at night and things didn’t change because it was the weekend. On this night my brain needed a break so I cut my studying short, took a pill and headed to bed.
What I woke up to was him on his knees sticking his small appendage into my mouth. “Suck it” I heard him say as he tapped my cheek. I didn’t want to believe that this was happening. My mind was screaming but my body couldn’t….wouldn’t move. Due to the strength of the sleep med I passed out only to wake to his body over me, violating me. Again, my body wasn’t responding. I fought to stay awake, I could NOT allow myself to fall back asleep, I yelled inside my head to snap the fuck out of it. I stared at this man while he was over me …. I was sickened. I felt a tear fall down my cheek. I could not believe that he thought that this was okay. How could anyone think that taking advantage of someone who was not responding to their touch be alright? I was limp, he should be to. Who can get off on someone who doesn’t respond to their touch? As I was fighting to stay awake he pulled out and stuck his penis inside my mouth once again, all I could do was gag at the intrusion.
As I stared into the cold eyes of my husband I prayed for protection. I prayed that this would stop.
Minutes passed and I began to become more alert. I was no longer paralyzed by the med. I started to squirm, but that was when he filled my mouth with his foul-tasting self. “That’s a good girl” he said as he patted my leg as he moved off the bed.
That was the first night I ever spit him out.
April tenth was the last day that man ever touched me and that was the night that I made the conscious decision that I had to leave.
The days and months that followed I stayed quiet. I grew more distant and moved into the guest bedroom. Night after night his repulsive act replayed over and over in my head. There was no love that night, he was just a cruel heartless man who just took. I no longer felt safe in that home but leaving wasn’t that simple I had to play it smart, I had to strategically plan my next move.
Why am I sharing my story now? because I can and because there are women out there that are married who are putting up with the same thing. Somewhere in these demented minds they see their wives as property. We aren’t their one and only, their soulmate or best friend; we are nothing to them. Women, marital rape is real and it happens. It’s a violation. It’s assault. No still means no even after the I do’s. No still means no when we are exhausted from being mom, wife, cook, maid and the other fifty titles we take on during the day. No still means no when we are out cold because of taking cold medicine, a sleeping pill or just because we’re exhausted. It is our right to feel safe in our own home.
If I had the courage back then I would have gone to the authorities. It was my mind that stopped me, “No one will believe you”, “It’s his word against yours”, “Those men will believe him over you” ….. it’s fear that will stop you every single time.
I refuse for him to have any control over me now. He didn’t break me like he intended and hoped. He didn’t extinguish that light inside of me and he sure as hell didn’t silence me.
For now, I have acknowledged that some wounds still need to be healed and by seeking within I may be able to ease the nightmares and moments of fear. I do know that it’s okay to stumble but I also know without a doubt I will conquer this too.