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21 more things = 42

The last post was the 21 things I KNOW at 42. At the end I said I'd consider writing 21 more things to make it 42 in total & then ...

Tuesday

Peeking Out...

This. This is somehow harder than that was. This thinking about the experience is physically painful.

It's not the 1st time I've discussed it and it was easily the most difficult. Or maybe my memory is lax, and the most recent telling takes the belt and the title as the worst.

I spoke for perhaps an hour. Could've been more. Perhaps less. I was fully present, listened to the questions and responded clearly, I think. And thoughtfully. I think.

But it was my voice. I heard myself speaking, knew I was the 1 talking, but didn't recognize the sound of my own voice.

Questions answered. Interview done. Help provided. Right. Transparency helps others, right?

I felt about right as it happened. A little uncomfortable but like I was discussing the past. I felt about as right as one can feel discussing sexual abuse. I shed no tears, didn't choke. There was no physical pain--no headaches or nervous twitching.

The questions reminded me why I've been mostly quiet--while working at being comfortable with not being quiet. How is the way my 1st kiss felt relevant to being 7 and 12 and fielding unwanted and inappropriate sexual...attention? What does me being in love--or not--with my 1st have to do with being victimized at 32?

Wow. Just writing that made the right side of my face throb from my brow to my cheekbone, where make up would be applied, if I wore it. Make up is 1 of those things considered a teaser, right? Another thing that would make me responsible for unwanted attention? Something else that's my responsibility? Because I'm a woman. This is why sharing is uncomfortable. Why I'd rather not.

I can't figure out why thinking about the interview hurts, but the interview itself did not. I suspect the answer lies in whose voice responded to those invasive questions, feeling like there's a part of me that's needing some attention.


Hhhhmmmm...watch me. move.

NOTE- discussing this openly, sharing this in this fashion is difficult enough. I've written about it in various ways, here & elsewhere, in an attempt to deal head on, to not run or hide from this...these experiences. This is not an attention seeking post. Please be respectful.

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