This is less about why I write and more why I tell my story. The other day (the other day being anywhere between a few days ago and 2 weeks ago) my coworkers and I were talking about the Bahamian minister that is being put before that court for rape and harassment. Anytime rape is brought up around me I become triggered because of my many accounts of sexual abuse. But this time even though I was triggered I remained level headed and was able to shed insight into and about rape culture. The fact that some women abuse the system and that fact that there are many complex and complicated reasons as to why women tend not to come forward with abuse.
The case itself brought up the fact that some women take a while before they admit that they've been abused for various reasons. In my case I was raped once by an employer of mine. He was well known and highly respected not to mention quite wealthy. He was one of the biggest names in the game. When he took me to some secluded private beach and began kissing on me I didn't know what to do. I had agreed to go on this date with a man theee times my size to a place where I knew not. Even though I started out telling him no I didn't want to he kept pushing and I had to weigh my options. Was I going to fight this man who could fold me like a piece of paper (definitely not), was I going to run into the night not knowing where I was going or who I was going to (nope) or would I under protest yield to my fate? Later this man would corner me at work and taunt me, making moaning noises. I felt unsafe and raw but most importantly I wasn't seen and knew that at no point would anyone help me get justice. I didn't even think I'd be believed much less helped.
I went into such a deep depression and it took several weeks before I went for counseling and quit that job. With my upbringing I never had the esteem to think I was worth listening to or be believed. Further to that when I finally told my mother about it I also told her about my brother molesting me all those years and she did nothing and neither did my father. So I knew that with my boss's status nothing would come of it.
Any, the point is I mentioned to my coworkers that there could have been many reasons (like mine) as to why the victim didn't tell her story right away. Keep in mind one of my coworkers is new here and I'd only known her for maybe a week or less. Later that afternoon my coworker that I've known for over a year asked me why I told my story to a virtual stranger. I said that I didn't care and that its already happened so there was no reason to hide it. The truth is I've been so open with my story for so many years and with so many people that it doesn't phase me to tell it anymore. It's a battle scar that I'm not ashamed to talk about. I readily tell people that I'm mentally ill and have trauma. Not only do I feel it can break down walls for bonds to be made and understanding to happen but I also feel like it connects me with other peoples stories and experiences.
I don't hate on people that don't tell their story. But I know when I tell mine that there's a beauty I find in being able to teach through experience.
So I open the floor to you all. You can share as you please. I'm always here to listen.
Love,
Dat Bahamian Borderline
IG: @bahamian_borderline
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