i let you in
i let you in
so I deserved the cries of pain
i felt the shame
crying
on
the
stairs
it’s my fault, I repeat
a mantra, as I destroy the sheets
my mind in constant retreat
the guilt is all
mine
Ghost
You’re my ghost.
In the back of my mind.
The night we spent together haunting me.
Where are you?
Your name makes me shudder.
I recognise the smell of you.
Leave me alone!
Invading my thoughts and fantasies…
Biting kisses, forceful pushes and cries of pain.
Your fingers snake around my neck.
In my mouth.
I beg, I turn away, push you off me.
Pain.
Again and again and again.
Removing your hand again, again.
Clutching at the mattress with no relief.
Moaning in fear of force.
Blood splattered.
Squeezing me tight.
I close my eyes.
And then your hand goes again.
I go quiet.
Staring at my shelves.
Rectangular, ordered.
Block it out.
I sleep with my arms around you,
We kiss goodbye.
Sitting in the showers I cry.
Agony.
I can’t sit.
I can’t pee.
What’s happened to me?
Only I cry and hold the pain.
In the darkness you push my head down again.
Body broken, bruised in bad places.
I must carry on, this is just another
Day.
The chance I have you after your call to meet
Small talk.
Excuses at every block.
Confusion at every question.
Stumbling
Silence.
Every place on campus,
A tag on Facebook,
Snagging at memories.
Me gagging.
Your words burn.
I struggle to see anything worth inside of me.
All Women
A survivor has sent some poems to share with here with other survivors. Watch this space for more poems.
I had my first crush when I was 11.
Soft, excited, feelings – a high five, a hello made my day.
I was 12 when I was first asked out by a boy.
I was 13 when the boy sitting next to me in Geography class asked if a guy had popped my cherry yet.
I was 14 when I was first catcalled and honked at on a run.
I was 18 when I was told I was expected to dress more conservatively.
And at 19 I was sexually abused and I thought my life was over.
The pain that night – 29 November 2019 – was so bad I thought I was going to die.
To me it came out of nowhere and it was a completely random event.
So when at 20 for voicing my opinion that went against the leader of our group I was called aggressive.
I thought no.
I am strong. I am feisty. And you don’t like that I have a voice, which goes against yours.
But too bad, I am here
and here
to stay.
The Unspoken: a true story
Rebecca Parsons has shared an extract of her book ‘The Unspoken: a true story’, which tells her true story of child sex abuse survival. Rebecca says ‘I know this book will bring comfort and help to those who are in of need it’.
My name is Rebecca Parsons, and I was sexually abused for four years from the age of six. Separate to that, I have also been sexually assaulted by three different men, and I have been in two violent, unfaithful, manipulative relationships which tore apart my trust in men. I haven’t known my self-worth since my dad left home before my abuse.
I intend to bring light and awareness to a subject devastating enough to raise the hairs on your arms, making you more aware of what sexual abuse victims truly go through. Shall we get into it?
So, what about us everyday people? Our pain, our hurt and the strength we have needed in order to pull ourselves through the darkest of days? You see, when we ‘everyday people’ speak up, many are quickly dismissed and face embarrassment, but when famous people speak up, it is considered brave and inspirational. Usually, you will find that they are inspirations to people who have been lucky enough to have not experienced any non-consensual sexual encounters. You see, too many ‘everyday people’ have learnt to stay quiet. If you don’t, you feel the suffering of feeling embarrassed, discomfort, resentment, unworthiness, and most common of all, not being ‘normal’. Once I had to take time off work for my own mental health. I phoned and was already crying before they answered. But I had only recently started to see my worth and put myself first before life got too much for me. I told them I would happily go in and explain my life story. I was genuinely willing to go in and open the boxes in my head, knowing how that would affect me, all to make sure they understood me. Their response:
“Well, what about us? We need to find cover.”
Are you kidding me? All my life I have tried to keep things hidden for fear of sounding selfish. The one time I was willing to explain it to somebody, so they see I was not mentally stable, they think about themselves and their business! I thanked her – for what, I was unsure of – but I felt rage boiling within. From that day, my mindset changed. Never again would I allow myself to feel like that. I know how scary seeking help is. I know how scary it is to relive your past. I also know that many people might think they are over their trauma, but perhaps at one point they will need this book, because something has brought their torment to the surface. I am here. For you all, I am here. I am going to show you just how much you can do and what you can overcome, because you are brave and strong. You’re still on this earth, right? That tells me how strong you are instantly. Another reason for this book is so that partners of loved ones can hopefully get a greater understanding of what they are going through. And parents of children who have been through this: this book is also for you, to help you understand and to be understood yourself. If you’re a stranger to all of this, then perhaps you just want a better awareness of this horrible abuse which seems to happen everywhere and never disappears. I began to work on myself, knowing that my self-worth had to change, too! From that point on, I committed to putting myself and my mental health first. After all, I have a beautiful son to live for. So here I am, writing the true story of behind a victim’s eyes. For the beautiful people who can relate to this book in any way, well this is for you and I’m here to tell you that I’ve got you!
Missing You
Pearl has contributed a poem about missing the Arts with Hearts group during lockdown.
Arts With Hearts doesn’t ask: How, When, Where, Why???
Are you sure???
They say: “Come in, have tea,
Sit and watch, express yourself, feel free”.
No, I can’t crochet, even now,
But , no matter, I give myself, my time,
My laughter, I join in, I hear my sound,
Feel safe, feel part of life,
Not numb, feel I could be, even ME.
I’ve noticed colours, CLAY,
Solid, ever-changing stuff,
Smoothness, curves scored into rough.
Textured people in my life are
Tangled, woven, knitted, knotted,
I make solid shapes, smooth, reliant, true,
You might say, “But why, for who?”….
ME, of course,they’re mine , I did that!!
I made that sparkle shine, dull hue, loud voice of colour.
Prettiness trapped inside me
Pours out in liquid, fountain-free,
Art can SHOUT,
Can whisper fear,
Can cry in pain,
Can show : “I’M HERE!!!”.
Invisible Damage
“The poem is talking about how we say we’re “fine”, when people ask and don’t show how we really feel, for various reasons, and how important it is to find people (like at RSVP) who we can tell how we really feel“
Pearl is fine, Pearl is free
But Pearl is trapped
And Pearl is me.
You only see the one on show, really not the one you know.
Sawn in half each side divides,
Pearl is living in two lives.
Scythed in two by Virus rules, locked at home,
No fun in schools, no friends to play, out of Control,
My head is cut down to my soul.
Isolation ward is home, only help is down a phone,
No touch, no love, no shielding arm,
Alone and scared of any harm,
Rocking, starving,all those things self-abusive harming brings,
Making sense more than the lies, strategies and stingy eyes
From crying. Loss of self, loss of me, controlled, restricted, power-free.
I’m needing help from someone who sees past the mask
And guides me through to overcome the big deride,
My introverted “spoilt” child.
Yet out in life no-one can tell,
Pearl is happy, Pearl is well,
Pearl is fun, she makes you laugh,
But really Pearl is cut in half.
Grandson
This poem from Pearl is about the impact of Covid on families and children.
GRANDSON
I put my hands out, little boy
To dance together, act your play,
But: “What about the germs?” you say.
You child of four,
You precious one
No touch, no contact,
No more fun?
Reminding me who should know more-
Covid rules, Covid law.
What life is this?
Can’t dance my ‘son-
A person’s life barely begun-
Like this !!?
It must be wrong ?
What’s in your head?
What make you of this?
Masked adults, mustn’t kiss
We never had before like this,
Rules on rules
Locked inside out,
Timeless hours, screaming sirens, fallen flowers.
Trembling armies work to save
Children, finance, dying
Patients from their graves,
Screened by plastic PPE,
I feel so helpless,
Infant me.
We never knew, our lives were safe,
We held each other dear and far,
You saw my smile,
My joy in you, life on pause we’re living now,
I pray there’s time for us to see
A different future,
You and me.
Surviving This
This poem by Pearl reflects on the pandemic. Thank you for sharing your words with us Pearl.
Surviving This
No use of armies, bombs or guns,
Invisibly silent, with stealth
It comes, to choke the life from in our lungs.
No shield can stop its mad advance, its leading us a merry dance.
Risk factors out the chance that we will catch this vile bug,
Then pass it on to those we hug
And hold so close within our hearts.
‘Scopic warriors, spiked and deadly
Breeding in us
Causing chaos,
This is History in the making, if we survive this we are breaking
Worldwide chains of spread,
God knows we need this virus dead.
All ages, stages, Life on pause,
From young to old, direct or indirect, it changes paths of Life,
Cutting through us with its knife.
We must be fierce,
Like those before in other Wars,
Not let its march delete our species,
Fight together,
Stay apart,
Wear masks to shield our weakest links,
Wash its bodies down our sinks.
Whatever’s done to us before,
We need our strength now even more,
We’re used to trauma, know the score,
Know what triggers are our flaw,
We have more than fear to mask
Surviving this now is our task.
We matter here, deserve to live,
We ALL have so much more to give.
Right now is History we can make,
How many of us it will take
I do not know,
But Inner Strength to follow rules
Will be our armour from this foe,
We must deplete it
Now, or go.
My Arranged Marriage: A Blog by Mani
Many thanks to Mani, a volunteer trustee Board member here at RSVP, for sharing her blog post about her arranged marriage.
A foreword from Mani:
“I spoke about my experience because in my culture we are taught not to talk about anything. I wanted to share my experience for myself and also to help others find a voice. To be a voice for change and to allow us women to be heard.”
“I don’t really remember my wedding day, I remember sections, I remember bits I’ve seen on my photo album but don’t remember actually being there. If there was ever a moment I had an out of body experience it was then. I just remember thinking I looked hideous, my hair was very flyaway in the wind and it was annoying me. I don’t remember the pheere (circles/vows for Sikhs) we do them four times and I can’t remember a single one.”
Then on the honeymoon:
“I vaguely remember checking into the little B&B we booked in Ambleside, it was a pretty place, I probably won’t ever return. That day we went for a walk about the town, we returned to our room after dinner, whilst he was showering I fell asleep. I remember waking at 2am, he had set my alarm to wake me up and well we did ‘it’, it wasn’t exactly consensual on my part and whilst I didn’t immediately use the ‘R’ word for what I went through, it left me traumatised. I hadn’t realised what I had gone through until about four years ago (so six years after I was married) that just because you’re married does not entitle your husband to your body.”
To read Mani’s full blog post, please click here.
More amazing work by Mani can be found at manismadness.com and via her social media channels: @ManisMadness
We’re In This Together
Thank you to Mollie (not her real name) for sharing this amazing poem; her words emphasize the importance of compassion, connection and coming together during these difficult times.
We’re in this together
Let’s hope for joy
Oh boy oh boy we all need some joy
Let’s show the world we can smile
Even if it is for a while
Let’s look after one another
So we can beat this together
As we fight the fight
I am sure we will be alright
Let’s pull together
Now more than ever
– Stay safe please, Mollie