Standing at the work station counter sorting condiments.  One knee against the bottom of said counter.

I feel a presence.

Then I feel a hand on my bottom.

“When are you going to share this?”

Shock.  Startle. Freeze.  “My butt?”

“No, THIS.”  Hand shoved down the front of my pants and into my underwear.

Never did I focus so much on my knee and the feeling of the wood against it – I focused so much on my left knee and as the rest of me spiraled out of control and panicked, I felt safety in that grounding sensation.

_______________________________

I raised my son alone.  Well, I had the help of my parents.  A roof over my head and a mom that adored my bundle of joy.

I hated that I missed his first smile – first laugh.  Hated that I had to work and miss all the good stuff.

But, it was necessary that I work to support him.

His, um, ‘Sperm Donor’ made it very clear when I announced my pregnancy that he wanted nothing to do with it.

To the point that “If you try for child support, I’ll quit my job and move in with my parents.”

I was also very young and acting out back then.  We had both experimented quite thoroughly with drugs.  I stopped … he didn’t.

I didn’t want such a person in my son’s life.   My son didn’t deserve someone in his life that didn’t want to be there.

And as I’ve consistently pointed out to my son, it wasn’t a personal attack on him, because he didn’t KNOW him and REJECT him, he just didn’t want to be a father, period.

I didn’t take that out on the paternal grandparents however, and gave them an opportunity to be just that.

They didn’t want it either.

And there you have it.  No paternal support.  Not emotionally, not physically and not financially.

I bring all of that up so you realize how important keeping my job was to me.  Sole provider.

_______________________________

I drove to the home I had at the time – a yacht.

I was shaken.  Crying.  One of my best friends happened to be outside on his boat.

Saw me – called me over.  I bawled and shared everything.

We happened to know a lawyer.

I was pensive to say the least.

Terrified to lose my job and not be able to support my child, terrified to confront my assaulter.

But, I knew what he had done was so completely wrong and if it was that easy for him, probably other’s had been through it.

_______________________________

Deposition.

Time had passed and my lawyer recommended I wear the same color clothing as my eyes.  “It makes you more believable.”  Wait.  What?? I was only going to tell the truth anyway.

Lawyers know what they’re doing.  I complied.

I had already quit the job.

He was there.

He sat there – with a polystyrene cup over his nose and with his mouth, munching on it.

That’s how seriously HE took this. His assistant manager (Should mention ‘he’ was the owner of the entire company) silently scolded him.  I found it extremely offensive and was already terrified to be in the same room with him.  Assistant Manager was actually very kind to me the whole time I worked there and I like to believe was just as disgusted with his boss as I was.

I had to answer many questions.

I had to answer them in front of my predator.

“Did you wear a revealing Halloween costume?”  “Have you been an actress?” (I was in a local murder mystery play).  “You say on your resume you’re a published author, how is this true?” Me: “I’m in the library of Congress”.

“How many sexual partners have you had”

(Like that has ANY bearing on CONSENSUAL touching).

Then:

“Who is the father of your child?”

AND.

That’s where it stopped.

I didn’t want him involved.

Did not want someone unhealthy forced into interaction with my son.

Did not go to trial.

_______________________________

“Why do they wait?”

When you are assaulted, so much goes through your head.

Is it worth losing my job over, I really need my job.

Will anyone believe me over someone so prominent and powerful?

I’m going to embarrass their wife/partner.

I’ll be talked about.

I’ll have to face them.

Public defenders do their job, and I’m NOT putting them down.  Because God forbid, I ever need one, I need them on my side.

But I’m pretty certain when a case comes up and they have to advocate for a guilty person, they don’t sleep well at night.

I hope they don’t anyway.

Because I was VERY credible and VERY violated and he did not go easy on me in that room.

_______________________________

Latest news.

Accusers. “WHY DIDN’T THEY COME FORWARD SOONER?”  And I read this from WOMEN!!!!!!!  Why?

WHY?

Because it’s horrid.  It’s embarrassing.  Because your entire PAST is brought up.

YOU are treated like a slut.

Someone that ASKED for it.

That’s their job.

_______________________________

I’ve been through two rapes.

I’m not allowed to vote, because I’m a ‘legal alien’

So, I’m reading comments about ‘those women’ who are accusing and how disgusting they are.  And feeling very angry.

I actually unfriended a very good friend not because of their political beliefs, but because they questioned ‘the accusers’  very insultingly.  And I can’t handle that anymore.

I just can’t.

_______________________________

I AM broken.

But, I am not beyond repair.

I’ve made my life livable and made my life loveable.

I have fallen in love with someone and STILL support and love my son. Maybe I’m not as broken as I thought I was.

I numb myself, and am working on fixing that.  Because I shouldn’t .

I degrade myself because I feel small.   And I shouldn’t.

But the ‘why now’ thing … If I HAD kept an assault quiet, then years later heard my assailant on the news speaking so horribly about women – then denying any wrong doing, that would be a trigger for me.  Then imagine that person could hold the highest office in the country.  I would HAVE to come forward in the hopes of doing anything to try to stop that from happening.

So.

Go easy on the “Why are they coming forward now?”

If you haven’t been through a rape kit – shut the fuck up.  And if you haven’t felt like your job is on the line if you don’t put up with things, shut the fuck up.

Sorry.

I hate the vulgarity that I have used.  But this is clearly a very emotional topic for me.

And I will say now, “Telly Telly” is going to be ‘he who shall not be named’s” downfall.

When I was small, I asked “May I please watch the Telly?”  Television. And I’m pretty certain “The candidate” didn’t share THAT nickname with anyone outside of his circle.

I hope shudders went down his families spine when that phrase was uttered.  Although, I think they knew all along.

Too much detail.

Too much dread with him.

PLEASE don’t vote for him.