Red Tiles, Cheap Cologne, Sticky skin on mine

Their hair bouncing in the wind, shone with sparkle from the sunlight, kissing their beautiful heads. Laughter ringing in my ears, the sight of them playing was what brought calm to my routinely pained heart. Then it hit me like a fumigator, a hard stench of body odor and cheap cologne, my lungs let out a scream of terror that my children were startled and ran to join me under the gazebo. It was a smell I knew so well. I looked around inspecting carefully though there was no possible way the monster would be here. It was almost twenty years ago and I am a million miles away from where it happened. He wasn’t here. My mind was playing a cruel trick on me again. I calmed myself and brought the girls inside.

Over the next few days the anxiety stayed with me, anxious I would smell the stench of filth again. One night I woke up clutching the sheets for my life, I saw it vivid and clear as day, my head was tilted sideways my gaze upon dirty red tiles in a bathroom, the door was left open. Within my view was a brown chest and soft sweaty sticky skin on my chest, my face pinned down by a shoulder, the stench, the body odor and cheap cologne, saliva on my neck, the heavy weight on my body, I couldn’t see his face. I don’t recall anything else but this scene in my dark memories. In my dream I was paralyzed, trying to scream but my voice refused, forcing this replay of this five second memory to play again and again, I was captive in a horrid horror reel. With rue my heart was laden. I tiptoed into the bathroom to take a shower to wash off the disgusting feeling of his skin on mine. I looked at my phone after to find it was three o’clock in the morning.

The next few days the horror reel came to capture me every night. Also in the silent moments during the day, when I was stirring the stew, when I was picking up the children’s toys, when I was in a daze watching another episode on Netflix. It will not leave me.

I wrestle with the thoughts of why this is coming to me after so many years. I had lied to myself that it had been resolved. It has come back to remind me of the violation and this body that was taken from me. Defiled and destroyed what was me.

I want it to stop, I know it is in the past, I know it wasn’t my fault, I know I was wronged, I know I don’t want it to be with me anymore, I know my body is mine. 

This reminder called for my attention as I have been talking about the violation a lot of late, in advocacy, with courage and strength to encourage others. The reality of a rewarding life that is possible after rape. I want to help others who have gone through this travesty. Podcast after podcast, post after post, chapter after chapter about overcoming the guilt and shame and fear from rape of past. I want to be the picture of valiant strength, I want to be the voice for the unheard.

For all those captive in horror reels.

Perhaps from them I will draw strength. Perhaps I need more strength, perhaps I needed a catalyst to summon said strength and that fucking reel is to force the strength out of me. I don’t know where this strength will come from, but for now I fight the demons that summon my fears.