Built Ford Tough (Trigger Warning This Blog Talks About Sexual Assault

 Built Ford Tough (Trigger Warning)

He would respond to my stories with this statement;“That's cause you’re built Ford tough.”

I thought it was cute - endearing

But maybe it was a warning for the abuse he would put me through.

A preparation of the armor I'd have to build to protect myself from the pain drenched in the emotional, verbal, and psychological beat down he put me through.

Cloaked in being sensitive and burned by women-- he wooed me.

After the sweet good morning texts and Bible scripture

Came the constant weed smoking - dirty house - drinking until he's black out drug and vomiting outside my car.

Drunken nights at seedy clubs.

Me picking him up from his gigs wasted

Blocking him on social.

Hearing him talk shit on his stories, then taking him back

All toxic!

All manipulative... then dangerous.

All leading to a night I wish I would have ignored his call

"I’m drunk and I have no way home," he says pleading to me over Facetime.

I run to rescue him again

A battered man - beaten as a child trapped in a constant cycle of self sabotage

I want to rescue him , love him back to life.

I believe he knows Christ because he knows the word

But that night when he tries to pull my pants down. I say no

He tries again

I say no

How can this be a man of god I think?

"I’m not having sex with you ," I say. I say it over and over.

"Well will you do this," he asks.

I think to myself, I'll do whatever I must do to not have sex, and to leave this house.

I oblige.

But then I don’t like it !

-I try to pull away.

He forces me down, and I’m almost gagging .

I remove myself from my body just to get through the moment.

He smells like he hasn’t showered in weeks - I’m disgusted.

It is nothing like the romance we once had.

When he is done I say, "You will never do this to me again. You will never use me again. Do you hear me?"

Then I run. I run home. I shower, and lay in the bed looking out the window at a deary February sky. I want to cry but I have no tears.

I want to report, but he says no one will believe me.

I wait a year to report only to be told - don’t poke the bear - don’t tell DONT SPEAK

But I must - I am fighting back.

I have my voice and I simply can’t shut it now

This is why I own my body and my sex now- because it was taken from me

And this is my rebirth !