|You, O Lord have set your love upon me, not just upon, but I am swimming in it. Consumed, overwhelmed, rendered speechless that He calls me HIS! He calls to me with love. He has buckets full of love for me. Just enough to know what it feels like to be sexually abused by so many, sold by my Father to the neighbors as a sex toy, and enough to know the images that are so horrific you lock them away tight. Enough to know—the feelings of being trapped, feeling like a commodity, used goods to be sold.
Feeling the worthlessness of being used by my father and then by other men.
Big men, Big hands, everything Big. I’m small, tiny, no voice, speechless, gagged. Maybe I can disappear, maybe if I work really hard I can pay my own way so I won’t have to be sold. So, I scramble to work and work out of breath, out of strength, don’t rest, you’ll look worthless.
So, I take a hot steaming bath as my tears flow and scrub and scrub until my skin is raw to get rid of the filth left by the BIG men. Maybe I can scrub myself away, scrub their ruff touch away.
I get pregnant, can’t scrub the baby away. I get up every morning and vomit, no warning as I run to the bathroom. My Mother is angry, she makes me clean it up. So again, I scrub and scrub, makes me sick again, scrub some more.
Does she know it could be her husband’s baby? My pregnancy is exposed so they scrub the baby away by taking me to the clinic 260 miles away. They are disgusted with me for getting pregnant, blaming it on a boyfriend, Mike, but my father knows, he knows, I know—lock that secret away, scrub, scrub.
They house becomes a war zone, violence reigns. He hit my head against the fireplace and threaten me with a gun. Slam, slam and scrub me away.
I leave at 18, the day after I graduate from High School.