My Rapist

Today i saw the man that raped me when I was 17 and took my virginity away. I’ve never told anyone the truth behind it but he was our mail man. He was in his 30s when it happened. I thought he loved me but as I look back he would always say things to keep me quiet about what was going on. At the time I didn’t see it. I was a young high school kid in love. 

He took my virginity in the back of his mail truck. Thinking about it makes me disgusted. How could he, having two daughters of his own do that to me? How could he take advantage of a child like that? I remember his penis being so small that i didn’t even bleed from penetration. I’m not even afraid to say his real name on here because of what He did to me, Curtis. 

My heart raced as I walked towards him but i just froze in my parents doorway and my heart just raced. I couldn’t do it. What would i say? 

My hearts still racing. That day he stole a piece of me that I can never get back. Curtis, how could you?

Sometimes i just want to die

I can’t breathe. Is death better than life? Am I better off dead? I disappoint and lie to so many people maybe I’m making it worse than better for them. 

People want to know the answers to all these serious questions, answers I don’t have and it overwhelms me. I just want to kill myself and be done with this world. But what’s the garuntee that I won’t have the same problems in the afterlife? 

When I started feeling this way I wanted to journal but I’m in transit right now and didn’t have a pen. So what could i do? This is the only other place i could think of that i could be honest and vent.

I want to die right now so bad. What’s there to live for?

Vulnerability 

I learned a valuable lesson today. It’s NOT only okay to practice vulnerability in places where you feel comfortable or only around people you feel will hold your heart. When you fear your heart won’t be handled with care, be vulnerable. When you fear you’ll be laughed at and mocked, be vulnerable. When you fear disapproval and disappointment, be vulnerable.

It’s fear and your negative ego that is keeping you from learning that lesson that needs to be learned. It is fear and your negative ego that is keeping you from transforming and receiving something so great and beautiful that only being vulnerable could’ve given you.

Today I was vulnerable with someone that i didn’t think had my back or would hold my heart. And bc in the beginning I wasn’t vulnerable the words I said sounded dishonest bc I was circling around the truth. It wasn’t until I  let out my heart & truth that in response my heart was held, nurtured, & given clarity. Ase for constant lessons

Pleasing Myself Sexually

So I’m currently crushing over this guy from Macadonia. He’s tall, white, smart, funny, indifferent, and he takes control in every situation.

When I touch my vagina i get dry. No matter what i Try to do to play with it, it’s like my vagina won’t except my fingers it’s so weird. But all i have to do is think of his big hands cupping my breasts & I’m instantly wet & craving his touch. I told him all of this, in probably a little bit more detail & he responded with “no comment” he then said “the more i say no the more you’re going to chase and want me.” 

In that moment i felt so embarrassed i had opened up to him and been vulnerable with how i couldn’t please myself and that was his response. I also felt ashamed that I’d be perceived as someone who was chasing. I expected him to say something funny like “when i fly to nyc I’ll teach you” but i guess maybe its because i expected one  thing that i was so shocked i got another. 

I don’t know if i need to watch some youtube tutorials or something. But i need to  learn what  body likes. I think im not going to talk to my Eastern European for a while. 

-Akadancer4life 

First Blog Post

To be honest I don’t know what to write. The idea that I can share my thoughts freely on here and without shame is still shocking to me. I get to tell the truth on here and not lie…   something I’ve been doing my entire life.

I guess I’ll start by introducing myself. My name is “anonymous,” I’m an artist, a writer, dancer, an insecure person, someone that still doesn’t know how to love herself, & I’m a liar.

I remember when I first started lying a lot too, i was 11 years old and it was my first time at a camp with children that were from single family homes, low income families, all in all these kids had a very different life style. I found the things they did and said way more interesting than my homeschooled life at the time. I made up stories, lied about things i did, but it wasn’t the lies but the fact that i continued  lying almost everyday for the next two years. By the time i was a teenager i didn’t know what was true coming out of my mouth  anymore. Even i began to not trust myself.


-Akadancer4life