My Big Girl Voice

In a continuation of my post from yesterday, I wanted to share the next domino that got us to where we are now. First I wanted to say I am having a really bad weekend. This friend and I got into a fight. Whatever who needs friends when you have nothing. He berated me for alway being the victim. Yeah right now that is what I fucking am. I am normally a suck it up, put a big fucking smile your fucking face and take the next step forward. If you have a heart beat and air in your lungs you can take the next step. This however has brought me to a full stop. I’m like a deer on the highway right now. I’ve never been the victim I’ve always shut it down and made a funny story. Like the first time I cussed. I punched my step dad in the face and called him a fucking bastard. I was 5. I’m so hardcore. What I leave out is the part when he had just pushed my mom and my sister out of the moving vehicle in the nation capitol beltway and pushed me out last. They would stay married for 10 years and oh yeah, that was their wedding night.

It is unhealthy on so many levels for me because with the trauma and how I’ve been victimized through out my life to be making it one big fucking joke.

November 2023-the second domino

I was 150% off the motherfucking rails. I was trying to die. Any dangerous situation I could get myself into? I was game.

My son came at thanksgiving. I was broken and trying to not let him know how sick I was. I had just lost my job but I make the best of any situation for my kids. We made pie, we snapped the wishbone together and then the rest of the time we were just bouncing from sushi place to sushi place. Sushi is our thing. If there had been a sushi place open on thanks giving. We sure as hell would have done that instead of cooking. Fuck Turkey we want spicy tuna!

Now he was 16 at the time and kids at that age are emotional and not always certain how to deal with those emotions and sometimes act out in a violent way. He and I got into a fight over something stupid I don’t even remember what. He blew up and slammed me against the wall.

Now, I wanted to shake it off and give him a hug. I couldn’t. I saw his dad when he did that. I froze and didn’t cry per se, but my face was still and the tears just poured out. He felt so sorry for what he did and hugged and apologized and once the shock wore off I told him it was okay. He just got mad and I loved him.

He went back to his dad’s and I went further off the rails. This is where Tim comes in. I’m using Tim’s name because I don’t even remember his last name if you know him, tell him he’s an asshole.

Now, Tim had a sex/orgy house. Private residence where he hosted sex parties invite only. I was having a lots of sex with whomever, because again; sex drugs and rock and roll. I was there because I was lonely. It was always safe never had a bad experience with not being able to just stop, in fact I can’t remember any moment where I felt the need to because someone stepped over a boundary. It was just fun and games and my entire self worth is based upon sex.

On night, Tim called. He wanted me to come over. I just wasn’t feeling it. I was depressed and sad and just didn’t want to get out of bed. Tim told me to come over and he would cheer me up and by that I believe he meant cocaine and sex. I told him no I just didn’t even want to be touched. He told me he was my friend and he would listen. I said again I didn’t want sex. He said of course then I went down a laundry list of no touching no kissing no nudity we were to remain 5’ apart. Nothing nothing at all. Tim agreed

I went over and I talked for hours about everything that was going on in my life and my past. It felt really good to just get it all out.

As the sun rose, I told Tim I should get going. He took one look at me and said “no you’re not.” Puzzled I asked what he meant by that. He told me that he didn’t sit there all night listening to my bullshit stories for me to leave without sucking his cock. I had no reaction. Dumbfounded might be the term.

Tim took off his pants and I did it. I was sobbing and puking, but I did it. He didn’t force me or hold me down, I just thought he was right and that why would anyone bother talking to me without me reciprocating with some form of sexual act. Life is and has always been transactional. You get, you give.

I never saw Tim again, in fact I ran out of that house and couldn’t remember how to drive.

I made a big decision that day. I was going to say no. I was going to refuse when someone did something like that to me. I was going to refuse when someone wanted me to do anything I didn’t want. I was going to refuse if it hurt. I was going to use what I called “my big girl voice” and say no. I did say no before I would literally say “okay, okay, okay” I’d be ignored 80% of the time. This one guy had a thick accent and said to me once “what is this okay? Does that mean stop, does that mean keep going? What does okay mean?”

Apparently it meant nothing and Tim gifted me the life lesson that no was the only word I should be using.