Knowing words were my weakness, he wrote to me.  He wrote not as a writer but as a man reaching out to a woman, a woman he was sure he loved, a woman he was sure was meant to be, a woman he was sure was his. A woman who loved words.

He wrote to expose me, my passion for words and art, and word art. He wrote to pull me in so he could push in. He wrote to spread his vulnerability so he could spread mine. He wrote to be what he was not. He wrote to take what was not his, what had been held close to me, what had been denied him. He wrote because a week was too long to wait after a first date.

I gave in to his words. I gave in to his touch. Passion and pleasure perfected in a coming together like I had never experienced. Every touch, electric. Every whisper, inviting. Every look, passion. Every move, pleasure. Bodies merging, melting.

I gave in to his words. I gave in to his touch. But it was not him. I imagined who he wanted me to imagine. A giver, a lover, a writer. A man with passion. A man in awe of me. A man exposed, naked, and open, not guarded, covered, and closed.

I opened and he took everything from esteem to vitality.

I don’t read it the same any more. I don’t like it. I think it’s scary, what it reveals about him all these years later. He writes me in thru a window like a thief or a concubine. He writes me seducing him beyond all control. It reads like a rape warning.

He writes me as a form, as an animal, as an energy, but not as a woman. He didn’t see me as a woman. He saw my woman’s body. He saw my woman’s face. He didn’t see me.



  1. Wow this is moving!

  2. Your reflections stir my heart. They cause me to examine my own words, my own heart.

    1. Self-reflection is good; painful, but good.

  3. knowing what i do from reading your blog, rape warning, for sure. It took me three times of starting it before I could read it all the way through. ick.

    1. I hear you. I remembered it about a month ago and it’s taken me this long to re-read it and write about it. It creeps me out. Lesson learned.

  4. I have been looking through your blog. I am glad you are writing this down. I can only imagine how painful this must be for you. You are not the only woman I’ve heard of who lost her kids to an abuser. It’s horrible. As a mother, I can feel the anguish. I write my blog to help deal with my depression through humor. I started covering the 50 Shades because that series glorifies abuse, and it deserves to be trashed. I can only hope that a few women will read it before reading those books and thinking that men like the hero are who they should emulate. It’s so wrong. And it is so easy, even for the smartest women, obviously, to get sucked into one of those things. I narrowly avoided what could have turned into something like that myself. I am also an English major. So we have a lot in common.

    I hope it gets better for you, I truly do. Until then, while you feel helpless to protect your children, at least you can know that you aren’t showing them this is what a normal family is like. I can see your struggle and your pain with this, but I’ve also seen women who don’t see that, who prefer a man even if he abuses their kids. Just as long as they get attention. You clearly are not like that – you love your kids above all else. I hope it works out for you. Hang in there. And if it gets bad, go read stupid, goofy blogs like mine. I hope it makes you feel better, for just a little while. Humor is how I deal. You are far more honest, and far braver.

    1. I read through your writing for a while this morning. I like your humor and appreciate using humor to deal. I do it too.
      I also like the Alice theme, a lot. Hooray English majors! How many times did you answer the “are you going to teach” question before you perfected the “don’t ask me that again” stare?
      I think your 50 Shades series is great. There is nothing appealing about that series. I’m sorry it took off like it did. I’m sorry you’ve lost brain cells to it, but the resulting writing is enjoyable and well written, two things 50 Shades isn’t.
      Life is hard, but it’s getting better. I’m grateful to be able to write it out and be done with silence. Thank you for reading.

      1. Haha. Yeah, I actually thought I wanted to be a teacher at one time, then went – yuuuuck, what am I thinking? I did teach freshman composition for a couple of years as a teaching assistant. Then I swore it off for good, lol.

        I am glad to hear it is getting better. Keep it up. I know it helps others out there going through the same thing, but still living in silence.

        1. I do hope it helps others. I hope it shows DV shouldn’t be a closet epidemic anymore.

  5. […] me. I’ve tried some new approaches. I’ve found I enjoy trying to fit the prose along side the […]

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