Are We All Wearing Masks?


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We live in a world full of hate, anger, crime, sex. It’s on TV, in our homes, in our schools; everywhere. There is good in the world and you really have to focus on it, in order to get through the darkness that tries to take over. So many people are angry, hurting, and consumed with darkness. Do we really see all the people hurting or are we all wearing masks? Trying to get through each day, trying to focus on the good, the positive and live in the moment. We never know what people are going through. We see masks. We wear masks. Only showing what we want people to see; we are fine. We only look for what we want to see. We don’t want to see someone hurting. We don’t want to see someone struggling to get through life or a tough time. We want everything and everyone to be… fine. We may even put masks on other people; trying to blind ourselves. Not wanting to see that person hurting because it hurts us too. Pain can be a terrible feeling. Whether it’s our own or someone else. It’s hard no matter what.

My blog is my outlet. For recipes and for venting; it’s the only way I’ve found that helps me process and move on. Today is a day for venting. For sharing a painful experience. Not for attention, not for sympathy. I need to get it out. It haunts my dreams and it’s killing me. This terrifies me to write out because it makes it that much more real. That much more painful, yet that much more healing.

March 18th, 2017… I was sexually assaulted.

I never thought something like this would happen to me. Never thought someone would hurt me like this. I’m pure. I’m saving myself for marriage. I wear a purity ring. I even think of kissing as sacred. I don’t dress provocatively. I don’t throw myself at men. So, the fact that I was sexually assaulted scares me. I didn’t think I was a “target”. I’m always careful, I know there are dangerous people out there but I didn’t imagine this.

I hate the way it has made me feel about myself. I’ve worked so hard to overcome other challenges life has thrown at me and now I’ve been hit feeling worthless. Feeling like I can’t protect myself. If I can’t protect myself, then who can protect me? I’ve been trying to get out and meet people, trying to date. I hardly ever dated; this year I decided to put myself out there.

That night was one of the worst nights of my life. It was a first date. Everything about this date was different. He was quite a bit older and I wanted to make an impression. I let my guard down… When I met him, he immediately looked me up and down. I just blew it off, thinking “well he’s a guy and I’m attractive” but I felt myself feeling uncomfortable by it. We had a small bite to eat and a drink. It seemed to be going well; he seemed to be enjoying my weird quirkiness and all the talk about my dog. It was still early in the evening and I had mentioned how bourbon was my favorite drink. He said he wanted to take me to the Whiskey Library. I’ve heard my brother talk about it and I immediately got excited because I’ve always wanted to go. I didn’t think that this could be a trap. I didn’t think this guy had other motives.

I tried a japanese whiskey, it was amazing. Two drinks and I cut myself off (normally one is enough for me) and told him I didn’t want to drink anymore. He gave me this grin and said he wanted to show me another place. That’s when I felt the alcohol hit me. It took awhile and I thought I had handled it well. I followed him to this other bar and he tried buying me another drink. I told him no, I can’t drink anymore and that I’d like some water. He just laughed and bought another drink, handed it to me and told me we will share it. We sat down and I told him I didn’t want it and that I needed water. He just smiled and handed me the drink. I pretended to drink it and handed it back to him and he kept handing it to me. The whole time I pretended I was drinking. The two drinks I had earlier were really hitting me, and I felt everything spinning. I kept biting my lips because they were numb. To this day I have a feeling he put something in my drink. I did not feel “right”. I told him I need water, that the alcohol has really hit me. He said “we will get you water”. Told me to follow him and I said I wanted to go back to my car. He told me that he would take me to my car. At this point I couldn’t even figure out where I was and I could barely walk straight. I found myself following him, hoping he was going to take me to my car and let me go home. There was a darkness about him that scared me. I was afraid to “set him off”, so I kept following. I got into his car, expecting to be driven to my car. I don’t even remember how long I was in his car, but before I knew it we were at his place. I remember I kept telling him that I needed water. He eventually gave me a glass and I quickly drank 4 glasses of water. That’s when he made his move. He tried kissing me. I pulled back and said I wanted to go home. He then tried kissing me again. Before I knew it, he pushed me onto the bed. I told him no that I didn’t want to have sex. He did that manipulative grin again and said “we can still have fun” and ripped my clothes off before I could even get a word in. I told him to stop but I couldn’t move my body. I was scared. I was frozen. He grabbed me, flipped me over and took advantage of my body. I wanted to scream. I couldn’t find my voice anymore. It felt like I had left my body. I was floating above myself, watching everything happen. It’s one of the worst feelings. Feeling like you’re frozen while your soul is being shattered. Feeling yourself loose all your strength.

When he was done with what he wanted. He looked at me like he was disgusted, told me to find my clothes and to let him know when I wanted to be taken to my car. I quickly gathered my clothes and he drove me to my car. I sat in my car and cried. At this point I felt capable to drive; it was about 1am. I drove to my mom and I walked into her  bedroom, looked at her and said “my date didn’t go well” then broke down crying and told her bits and pieces of what happened.

I cried, deep sobs the whole night. Cried myself to sleep, then woke up crying. I cried for a few days. Then tried to move on. My soul was shattered. I hated myself. I hated my body. I felt dirty, broken and ashamed. I thought I had moved on. But in reality it stills haunts me. Lately I’ve been having dreams of that night. I wake up feeling even more broken. Thinking “why couldn’t I have been stronger? Why didn’t I kick him and run? Why did I have to become frozen and scared?” I was mad at myself. I was mad at him. Angry for what he did to me. Angry that he became my second kiss. I won’t count it.

Some days, I don’t like to dress nice.  Everytime I put on a pretty shirt, I feel dirty. Like I’m “asking for it”. I want this nightmare to end. I want to feel pretty. I want to feel good about myself. Instead, I feel like I’m in pieces right now and once again I’m trying to piece myself back together. Trying to make it each day. Trying to be happy. Lately I just feel irritated with myself. I’m mad at myself for not protecting myself better. I’m mad that I can’t seem to feel happy in my own skin anymore. Nothing I do is good enough for me because in the end I just end up disappointing and hurting myself. I keep thinking, If I can control the hurt I put on myself, then no one else can hurt me. If I’m controlling it, then that makes it okay.

A lot of change is happening right now and I couldn’t be more excited. My mom is moving to California and my dog, cat and I are moving into a new place together. I want this fresh start. I want this new beginning to hurry and happen. I want a reason to start over. Start a new life. Some days I stay curled up in my bed, wanting to get up and get out but once again I feel stuck. This new beginning will be good. I can feel it.

I’m stubborn and I don’t like to give up. Yes, I get down, depressed and sometimes I go hide and cry. However, no matter how low I get I won’t stay there. I’m ready to move on and start over. First I’ll go light that assholes house on fire, then I’ll start my new life.

It’s hard for me to write this, part of me feels ashamed to write this out. That it’s all my fault. But honestly, if I swore and used the “F” word; I’d say “F**K it! I need to write it out. It’s the only way I can heal. It doesn’t change who I am, I’m still Emma; who’s now a little bit stronger and I’ll only continue to get stronger and grow into the person God made me to be. Screw all the mean people out there! There’s plenty of good people and there’s plenty of bad people. We all seriously need to love each other… Take off your mask. It’s okay to hurt, it’s okay to feel. Let’s all help one another and stop being so scared by someone who is “broken”.

I already feel better just writing this out. I’m ready for another beginning. Another new adventure. Time to pick myself up and get back out into the world. Be who God made me to be. Let’s do this…

A girl with a shattered soul; trying to mend,

Emma-Logo

June 8th update: 

I can truly say that I have healed immensely. I’ve grown a lot since that situation and I truly feel I’m on the right path. I’m being gentle on myself and by doing so I have been able to heal and love myself again. I have prayed a lot, prayed for healing and really tried to move on; put it behind me. I’m a lot stronger now. I’m more resilient. I’m who God made me to be and I’ll continue to live, grow and learn. Life is hard. How we choose to deal with it, shapes us into the people we become. Be gentle on yourself through the tough times, through the challenges. You’ll get through it. It may not be today or even tomorrow, but trust me; you’ll be okay.

Creative thoughts?