i hope god saves you—i hear she’s forgiving and shit. ✨💙⚡🌊

you know what
sexual abuse actually
fucking looks like?

it looks like
your whole body
freezing while some
shit goes down
and you just
try to fucking disappear.
it looks like
pretending you're
not real
because
that’s the only way
you can figure out
how to fucking survive.

and then—
when you finally try to name it?
yo it’s the people
you fucking trusted
tell you to
shut the fuck up
tell you
nah,
it’s not that bad.
tell you
to be fucking careful
what you say.

or society
will use it against you
fucking again.

lol
because look
your mom makes a joke.
your friends look away.
and the men in your life?—
what a fucking joke
they don’t want
to fucking hear it.

babe—

your own husband
mocks that shit.
mocks you.
throws your
fucking trauma
in your bloody face
while he’s
packing his shit to leave.
moved back into
the same fucking house
where it all
went the fuck down,
like it was no big deal.

because yo—
you do not matter.
everyone
makes that
so fucking clear.

because
look—
everyone decides
nah,
that bitch?
that bitch is
the fucking test dummy.
used to fucked shit—
who cares?

fuck her.

but then
when i finally—
for the first fucking time
in 36 years—
said it out loud,
you know what happened?

babe.
immediately.
i got fucking shamed for it.
by people who
were supposed
to fuck with me.
people with money.
people with degrees.
people with power.

they didn’t ask
if i was okay.
nah.
they didn’t thank me
for being fucking brave.
baby—
they acted fucking embarrassed.

of me.
for existing—
with this goddamn narrative.

yo.

embarrassed.
like my survival story
made them look icky
by fucking proximity.

hey,
so—that’s actually
insanely fucked up.

and guess what?

that means—
damn,
you’re truthfully
a fairly shitty
fucking human being.

yo
you were ashamed of me.
not the person who did it.
not the people who enabled it.
me.

and that tells me
everything i need to know
about you.

because you know what
this actually is?
this is what fucking
bravery looks like.

this is what
healing looks like
when no one handed you
a fucking map.

and if that makes you
kinda uncomfy—
good.
it should.

fucking obviously.
imagine
goddamn living it.

you’ve clearly
never done a brave
fucking thing
in your life
if hearing the truth
makes you get all
fucking weird.

go back
to your quiet little
aesthetic life—
and your coward-ass silence.

but don’t you
fucking dare pretend
you care about women.
don’t you fucking dare
say you support survivors.
not when
the second we fucking speak—
you shame us.
you isolate us.
you unfollow us.
you call us unstable.
you call us unfit.

you make up fucking scenarios—
where they take our fucking kids,
just because
we fucking survived.

jesus christ.

that monsterous level
victim blaming
fucking propaganda.

nah,
like—

do you actually realize—
how insanely fucking
harmful that
really fucking is?

for real.

you are the reason
this shit never ends.
you are the reason
little girls grow up
and stay silent for
36 fucking years.
you are the reason
we don’t say shit
until it’s too late.

until—
we’re permanently
fucked up,
or fucking dead.

congrats,
on the fucking lotto,
of not having
to deal with this shit.

lucky you.

you’re a goddamn hero.

and an enabler of
fucking violence,

against…
goddamn
fucking
children.

yeah,
this shit makes
me pretty mad.

i want you
to sit with that shit.
i want you
to fucking choke on it.

because next time
a woman you know
doesn’t say anything?
maybe it’s cause
she saw how you
fucking treated me.
and decided her life
wasn’t worth your
dumbass-privileged-ass
judgment.

hey.

fuck your shame.
fuck your silence.
and fuck your reputation.

this is the cost
of survival.
and you couldn’t afford
a fucking fraction of it.

baby,
it’s ok.

some of
god’s soldier’s
weren’t built
for the hard shit.

⚡