As I see my past, I have learnt not to be scared to be vulnerable.
I am learning slowly it is not a weakness, it is a strength.
As I let in vulnerability, I am able to feel – when I feel I become alive.
But feeling is terrifying.
I feel in my body every sexual torture I had to live with.
Feeling that agony, I want to hardened up again, I want so much to make myself dead again.
But I have to feel the pain, coz it allows me to know that it was real.
That men did choose to treat my body with hate, men did on purpose pour pain into my body, men did not care whether I died or got seriously injured.
What is so terrible about that time, is that the torturing became my norm, that to survive I numbed out all the natural pain I should of felt.
Now, the pain makes me weep, the pain forces me to slow down, the pain makes want to say my reality to those who can listen and hear.
In all that, I make myself vulnerable. But I so glad.
Glad because I am learning who I can trust. Learning to not speak to those who my instinct tells me not to trust.
Glad coz in feeling pain I saying that I mattered. I was not a porn-toy, I was a girl and woman who needed and deserved respect, care and love.
That really is so little to ask for – but at that time in my life all three were unreachable.
When I am vulnerable I feel and know that my experiences are and were connected to millions girls and women in every country who live inside the sex trade.
I cry that every second of every day, women and girls are being sexually tortured for a market of men who just want to wank inside a living human.
I cry that sexual torturing is made invisible, is made normal. Just the way that men are.
That is not only deeply dangerous for women and girls – but highly insulting view of men.
Men can live without fucking, especially if to get their hard-on they have to degrade, humiliate, torture, rape, batter and basically treat a woman or girl as his plaything.
If the only way men can get sex is by making women and girls sub-human – well tough, be celibate or learn how to wank by yourself. It really isn’t that difficult.
Being vulnerable help me to put the blame on the men that raped me, the men who made money out of other men raping me.
Being vulnerable throws my guilt and shame out the window.
That is the strength of vulnerability.
So when I cry, I come alive.