“Awkwardly Finding my Survivor Voice” was written for shock value? I wanted to shift blame from being a “mistress” with someone in an open marriage? I wanted to ruin the perpetrator’s life? I wanted to leave out the parts that made me look bad? I want to “create” a narrative? I wanted…I wanted…I wanted….

Bitch, I wanted to fucking heal. The way I heal has always been writing. It has always been through sharing my story and not being silent. The silence has been eating me up inside like the way alcohol has been eating at my stomach lining since Judas texted me April 9th. I knew what he was saying was bullshit. Shit, he knows what he was saying was bullshit, but I was TRIGGERED. And I unfortunately went back to my old ways of self soothing…I’m sorry Kos…I let you down….

For 8 months, I have been silent. I lived in disbelief and shame. Until I called my aunt crying January 27th,

“They lied about everything. Their wife never knew about me, and that’s why she texted me that day. The first time we had sex I was so drunk I woke up to it. I don’t even remember how it started. I think they even assaulted me,”

“Honey, that is sexual assault. Do you want to report it?”

“I don’t know…”

Because I didn’t know what to do.

“Well honey, we don’t want this person doing it again to someone else now do we?”

Still crying, “…no.”

Honestly that line made me do it because during that conversation, I still loved them. I was so distraught. I was horrified. But I was dealing with the grief and heartbreak of losing the closest friend I had since I moved to LA. Do I love them now? Absolutely tf not. Their face repulses me. I see them on someone’s story it’s an instant: “Awoop jumpscare.” I remember before I blocked Judas, I had to untag the post he has of me and them in January because I was horrified. And if I see them on someones story again, I will block. But I never talk bad about them. I’m not a scorned lover. I know what it’s like to be a scorned lover. You still wanted them deep down. Trust me, I was there in 2018.

I’m a rape victim. Fuck that, I’m a rape survivor. I’m a survivor who has to go thru throwing up, nightmares, panic attacks, African family members physically and verbally abusing me once they found out it who it was, losing of mutual “friends”, calling out of work, isolation, the fear of public drinking and STILL the shame of being a “drunk”, a “mistress,” a person who “blows shit up”. I remember my coworker touched my shoulder just last week, and I automatically smacked his arm away. Apologized right after, but I didn’t see his hand coming. I need to see your hands coming now. What is physical touch anymore? I’m terrified of it. Intimacy and sex? The thought alone makes me uneasy.

There’s many things I want to say but will never do it out of respect for them as a human being. They are somebody’s child, spouse, sibling and cousin. They are loved. I’m not a psychologist, so I will not diagnose them. However, I WILL talk about the trauma of their abusive and manipulative actions towards me.

“You always blow shit up then hide away under accountability.”

“You’re just mad they chose their fat wife over you.”

“Nothing warrants rape…NOTHING…but what you did that night.”

“U fucked up, and because it didn’t go the way you fantasized you created a narrative that has the potential to destroy more than one life”

“It’s woman like you that make it so hard for victims to come forward.”

“People have heard the sick shit I said to you and they agreed. I was right”

“Well you told me it was bomb and you would do it again,” did you even read the blog? lol

My aunt, single-handedly combatting my negative thoughts and texted me, “Your truth is the truth my love…don’t let anybody make you feel otherwise.”

I’m writing for the people out there who feel as though they are forced to be silent due to inner shame. I remember back when they were giving me endless gifts, a coworker told me they were manipulating me. Honestly, she doesn’t even know she woke me up to the manipulation first. But she also held me accountable,”You know their wife took back consent so you know you deadass wrong?” “Yes, I’m dead ass wrong but imma drink this wine though lol,” but no one knew what they did.

No one knew I wanted to desperately see the good in them and ended up falling for them. No one knew I was protecting them. No one knew I didn’t want to accept what they did until they did it…twice…But one thing they knew? I felt guilty for falling for them. I was clearly in a trauma bond. Did I feel good knowing they’re still giving me attention despite their wife being upset? Yes, I did. It made me feel powerful after feeling powerless that night. Fake powerful. Did I want them? No I told them to their FACE I deserved better than them. I wanted them to be honest with their wife. I said, “It’s unfair you get to move on and act like nothing has happened…and you are STILL contacting ME.” I threw myself under the bus and saved them for 5 months. Eventually, I woke tf up. I won’t do it again.

Authenticity is never black and white. It’s a mess. It’s conflicting. People who are consistently misunderstood go against the grain. And my blog, a drunk mistress accusing someone they loved of rape, definitely does that. I was the anti-hero.

For anyone who has gone through intimate partner, acquittance and/or drug-facilitated rape knows the complexities of it. My blog, that I wrote purposely in ONE take with no edits, demonstrated the complexities of what happened. The confusion of the night. The not knowing what to believe. The not knowing what to do. Though it represents something painful, I’m proud of it.

I don’t regret it, because God exposed Judas’ true colors. God exposed those “weird ass friends in my circle.” Those statements I wrote before, he said all but one. If I wasn’t in a better space mentally…not even going to go there. I’m all for being checked, but that was verbal abuse. It was probably the worst “friend” betrayal I’ve ever experienced on top of everything I’m already trying to heal from. He was never a friend, and I used that term too lightly. Shit, he didn’t even know everything but tried to speak from that place. We stopped speaking about the perp after I left TGS until I showed up at his apartment after filing the police report in January. He said he was proud of me. He said I’m doing something even he couldn’t do. Then, lied to others about me saying I’m doing this because I wanted them? But, in the words of my aunt, “girl we not finna let these busted ratchet people or circumstances take us out the game. Period.” My family told me to drop him after he wanted to support us both in January and because he always knew, but I didn’t want to do it permanently. I didn’t block him like I should have. He still had access to me. Now, I did. The rapist and him can be friends. I’m not missing out. I’m just going to pray for him, because for someone to say those things, they’re hurting. Healed people don’t speak like that.

As long as I have a blog, it will never come down.

“You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.”

Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life

Most likely, I will never get an apology. Even though they already incriminated themselves through texts, they may also think, “Shit I didn’t rape her. She’s trippin because she’s embarrassed, hurt or whatever.” And, that is OKAY. Yes I said it. That is OKAY. Well, its not okay but that may be their truth. If they wrote a blog, I would be perfectly fine with it. In fact, lemme read it. Because by definition, they assaulted me twice and raped me once. I don’t need their apology to know they harmed me and committed a crime. I don’t need them to validate the trauma I’m experiencing, because it is real. I’ve suppressed it for months. Didn’t want to believe it but now I do. Also, they are under investigation so why would they admit it?

I even did some impulsive shit and contacted their partner again. Why? Because I wanted them to know deep down in my heart that I wasn’t lying about this despite the mistakes I’ve made. My intention was pure. It was a bold move but I’m a bold person. Her reaction…terrible. A lot of insults. A lot. And I know me being a confident person and not taking her insults to heart didn’t help the situation. My therapist told me to give myself grace, because I felt like a dumbass. Heavy on the dumbass. She wasn’t ready to receive what I was saying and I should have known that. It is what it is.

I wanted to stop living in silence. This is an apology to me. It’s also a space for me to do something better with my vengeance instead of wanting to beat the shit out of them. My therapist said, “you also wanted to cause disruption. You wanted to say “hey you can’t just live you life and act like you didn’t do anything to me while I’m suffering from rape trauma.” Yes, alongside finding ways to heal, that is also true. I’m not perfect. I will forgive them one day. I’m working on it lol but…I want to help others, and I’m glad I did. 98% was…positive.

You matter. Your story matters regardless of the mistakes you made. Don’t live your life in shame. Don’t do it. Be brave. You are loved. You are strong. You are beautiful. You will get through this. And most importantly, if no one believes you, just know that I believe you and love you for doing the impossible…