Friday, May 30, 2014


I'm tired of being an advocate. AnnaLynne McCord is on the next cover of Cosmopolitan magazine and opening up about her sexual assault.
First, I'm tired of being in this club. Why did I have to join? I didn't want to. Now I'm in this club. The survivors club. I'm glad I survived. I'm glad I'm still here. I'm glad I'm doing alright. But why is everything I do a reflection of that? Even in my own mind, I'm "not letting him win". And how stupid is that? My existence reflects nothing on him or the circumstance pressed on me but only my own perseverance, dedication and heart. Why am I in this club where I have to do things to get better? I can't just drink a lot or be mad. I have to talk about it, get counseling, a journal, find some way to cope or find the "new" me. I want to go back to before! I want to read without thinking about it or run because I enjoy it. Not because my therapist says I should find my true authentic self. Why does it have to be a thought or an action? 
And second, I'm tired of being an advocate for this club I didn't want to join. I don't want to feel like I need to have a response every time  a new statistic comes up or I read an article on Slate or the good men project. Now I'm not saying I won't advocate. I'm saying in tired of feeling the fucking NEED to, the feeling inside that if I don't stand up and be counted, he's winning. What is that? I don't want to be counted. I want to do my work and my advocacy and not have it be a political statement but a true outpouring of my soul and spirit and heart and the love and compassion I feel for others on a daily basis. I want to be recognized not because I overcame something so now I am doing it to give back, but because I HAVE ALWAYS GIVEN BACK IN WHATEVER WAY I CAN! I have volunteered at countless organizations. My school required 70 on top of the 75 for Bright Futures. I think I graduated with 270.  I always have had compassion for those less fortunate. I get it from my daddy and mama. We used to feed the homeless on holidays- buy some bread and pb, apples, and gather up extra blankets and walk around downtown Clearwater to give it away. That's my family, my life. I didn't start volunteering because I experienced something shitty. I don't want to be recognized as that. This is me. This is not something I am doing to overcome. 
Third, I don't want to ignore the pain and trauma that survivors experience. I don't know your pain but I can relate. I'm just tired of having to feel something, second guess why I am feeling and be prepared to have a comment on it. I can't not have an opinion. I can't pretend like I don't give a shit. I experienced rape, so obviously I speak for all survivors (sarcasm to be clear). 
Last, I just want to go back. I'm doing my counseling to heal an find a better happy that the bogged-down frustration I had previously. This isn't about that. I'm tired of my response of "oh now I must find something to say about this" because it is talking about my tribe of people, all of whom never wanted to be in this tribe. And I do get asked every once in a while. However, when I don't, I spill my feelings on my boyfriend. More like boil him with them because I get so fired up and angry. He doesn't like to talk to me about these articles and stories now because I just blow up and then get mad when he doesn't respond exactly how I want him to (I don't know how I want him to respond but he's not responding the right way). I don't want to have to think about this. I don't want to formulate opinions and defenses and theses. I want to feel bad, feel compassion and do something about it, not because I feel guilt and horror but because I am that way. 

All in all, I am the member of a club. I didn't want to join but here I am. I am so much fucking more than my club.