I've always been a very curious girl. I love solving puzzles and figuring things out; asking questions is a legit hobby. But some things I've come to accept are truly just a mystery. Your intuition can tell you, God can tell you, Angels can tell you, demons can even try to tell you. Everyone and everything can try to give you their answer, but until there's proof, it all is up for debate.
One of those mysteries to me is how I seem to carry sexual trauma in my body when I have no recollection of this happening to me as a child in this lifetime. They say most traumatic experiences after the age of 6-8 are simply repetitions of the same core wounds you faced from 0-8. Your young body is so susceptible and carries codes of memory and energy with experiences stored in the DNA that your body keeps experiencing and attracting these experiences as patterns of familiarity and comfort. I believe it is also your body's way of communicating to you that something traumatic happened and it continues to give you obvious opportunities to heal and address that wound. Your cells and body carry memory, even when your brain has forgotten.
I'm still unsure if I was sexually abused as a child, but given the fact that I have no recollection of this I've come to a few conclusions: either my mind has blocked it out as a protection mechanism, this memory comes from an ancestor of mine that passed down their trauma to me, or this comes from some past life or memory implanted into my body for me to work through in this lifetime. Or, maybe just maybe, it is a combination of all three.
As a child, I would often fantasize about being raped by a man and enjoying it. I thought it was a little strange, but I really enjoyed these dreams and fantasies, so didn't think much of it. As a child, you simply do things intuitively, you don't overthink or overanalyze as much. As I got older, I've come to understand it was my way of taking control or power over this person that made me feel so powerless. It was my way of trying to heal or fix the pain, the fear and whatever other scary emotions I felt in this situation.
Up until college, I had very few romantic connections with guys, I had a couple crushes and flirtatious things. I did kiss one boy but it didn't mean much. So, at the age of 18 entering college, I felt very inexperienced and afraid of boys and romance, even though I wanted it more than anything in the world. I dreamed of having a boyfriend; feeling, kissing, touching, loving with another person. I read countless romantic books growing up and I loved watching rom coms with my mom. My all-time favorite movie was Cinderella in which the prince of course saves the princess from her misery. I always hoped to be saved by someone.
In college, I found alcohol. Alcohol was my tool to get to the boys. It gave you confidence, numbed out the emotions and blurred the experience. The first time it happened, I remember feeling lots of pain and seeing lots of blood. I was too drunk and afraid to say no or to communicate how I was feeling. He thought I was on my period, but I was definitely not. If I hadn't been so drunk, I'm sure I would've been screaming in pain. I left early that next morning in an animal costume, a lot of confusion, shame, regret, guilt, sadness, discomfort and a whole lot of pain. Although it was technically consensual, that experience held the energetic blueprint of rape.
I was repeating the only experience I knew in regards to sex; the man has control, the woman obeys and even if there's pain, you must endure it because you are powerless. This is an obligation to the man and you do your duty as a woman.
After the first time, there wasn't much pain down there; but a lot of pain remained in my heart. I continued to ignore it and numb it out with more drugs and alcohol. I became addicted to not only the substances but also the sexual experiences. Each time I hoped to win the guy over and actually receive some love, affection and care in return. But every morning I woke up with the same damn feelings. Emptier and emptier I grew. And the number of guys grew rapidly too. Total came to 9 different guys as a freshman, 14 as a sophomore, 22 as a junior and 8 as a senior. Add on another 28 since then, and you come to a grand total of 79 different men.
I know that compared to some that isn't such a high number, but for me it represents so many experiences of allowing my body to be mistreated, abused and used for the male's benefit. Not all of them are one night stands; some guys I allowed to use me many times.
I didn't view it like that at the time; it was something fun and just what you did. It was normal among my group of friends, until I met some people who woke me up to the fact that it definitely was not normal. It took quite a few more awful experiences before I finally went celibate for over a year. I was very sick and honestly forced to, but nonetheless, I was on a mission to love myself and my body.
Roughly 9 months ago I met a boy, a very intuitive boy who for some reason felt compelled to respect me even as I was learning how to do so myself. He made me wait to be sexually intimate until I was ready. And even as I said that I was ready, he could intuitively feel I wasn't. Because I was still under that manipulative voice in my head that told me I wanted sex to feel things, when in reality I think it was still to please the guy and find love/intimacy from this one thing. Learning how to say "no" has been so incredibly difficult for me, but it's been so healing in other ways as well. Because no carries over into so many aspects of life in regards to self-love and respect.
I'm still learning, but have come so far and am so proud of myself for all the work I've done. And so grateful for all of the people that have helped me along the way. I took these photos as a way to express the pain I put up with for so many years. As I way to transmute and say "I'm done with this. I honor her and thank her for all that she did, all that she put up with while in survival mode. I have so much love and sadness for her, so many hugs to give her. But I bury her in the ground and choose to move on from this abuse."
Some of the men from my past I still feel an addiction or longing for them, I feel these were my great teachers and awakeners. They hold an immense amount of power and pull on me for some reason. It can be hard to shake the bond or cut the cord, but I'm proud of myself for all the times I resisted those temptations.