That girl across the room

TW-sexual abuse

You see that girl over there? The one across the room, at this party.
When you look at her, what do you see? Her body right? Her curves that her sexy dress is letting you see?
Because she wears a “slutty” outfit she’s officially a whore, correct?
That’s according to everyone at this party. Because she has been with almost everyone at this party, so they all have something to say.
Saying what they think they know, only what they’re capable of knowing.

They’d never let her be called anything but a slut. Not ever confident, won’t let her just want to feel sexy.
It’s always for attention right?
She could never just have sex to have sex because she enjoys it. She always has to be a whore, because of the way she looks.

But that girl across the room, is really just a girl. A girl that was sexually abused by her father, the man she adored.
The one man that should’ve always been “home”. A safe place no matter what.
Yet he broke her. Broke into her. And broke into her brain, changed out the fact that he raped her. Changed it to “her” fault.
That it was “meant to happen”.
Because it happened for so long, it was now just “normal”. Now just apart of the routine.
He put it in her head that she now wants it.

The little girl that she once was doesn’t want it. That girl is still apart of her, that her does not want it. Yet she’s forgetting that part of her.

That girl that’s a “whore” was raised by abuse. She knows nothing else. That’s how she feels valid, that is what she thinks love is.

The memories of her father are still there.
Just like the ones from the rusty swing..
And the ones from her first boyfriend..
Even the ones from her girl best friend.
They all haunt her, to this day.
The same thing happened over and over again. From more and more people.

So that girl across the room, the one you look at like she’s a piece of meat, like a meal, that’s all she ever gets. All she’s ever gotten.

This is her normal. Her now, “home”.
What she thinks is safe and comfortable.