This may have some triggering undertones. I will be generic as possible.
If you have read my intro, I was abused by my ex brother in law for seven months. He basically fondled me during that period and forced me to touch him. It never went any further than that; I was lucky.
I have complete memory of each episode. Sometimes I wish I didn't. However, I really don't think about him, the activities or my life during those seven months. Time in one way has healed me.
The one episode that stands out for me is the last time he touched me. I was with my family at my sister's condo. I was in the den watching television. He came in, shut the door and joined me on the couch. I knew where this was going. I quickly went to the opposite side of the couch. He moved closer and attempted to touch me. I tried to struggle and almost went into a fetal position to fend him off me. Then he did something to me that he never did before--he kissed my neck.
I was so shocked. I quickly pulled away from him and gave him a pure look of shock.
"What, what?" he replied. He didn't know what he did.
"You kissed my neck!" I responded.
"No, I didn't," he retorted.
Nevertheless, I felt his lips touch my neck. For seven months I tried to rationalize it. I tried to control the situation. I knew that once it continued, it would still continue. However, I truly thought I had the strength to stop him or convince him to stop.
With that simple kiss on the neck, it woke me up from my denial. I knew that if I didn't tell my family, the abuse would progress and get worse. A few weeks later, I told my parents. The abuse stopped; I never saw him again. I'm amazed at how a simple pair of lips helped empower me to tell my family. I did think I can put a stop to it. I wasn't wrong, I just needed the help of my immediate family.
Now I turned 40 in May. I feel that I have a new set of lips waking me up and empowering me to be a better version of myself. I feel a little antsy, like I want to do more with my life. I posted that I have spent less time in the chat and more in the real world. I'm doing more activities, and I'm trying to figure out the second half of my life.
Yesterday, someone asked me what was my next stage of recovery. I gave a generic answer, but to be honest . . . I don't really know. However, this time . . . I don't really care. Wherever the fates take me, I'll just go with it. Now is the time to be happy and focus on a new pair of lips touching me in a more positive way . . .