The world will strip you apart, just to prove that you’re as powerful as you are.” Someone once said that to me, years after he raped me, years after he’d already violated me. I’d given him a second chance, I didn’t really remember what he’d done to me, because he was out of my life for a decade after he did it. But in a very real way, he had a second chance with me.
And then he decided to tell everyone I was a rat. Why? Because he was selling drugs, and using them at the same time, he got busted. So he blamed me.
It was easier than acknowledging he owed money to the biggest bikers in the city.
Not because of me, he paid for that lie. And then spent years in prison. The last time I saw him he looked really good. Clean and sober. I don’t know how long it’s lasted, I haven’t seen him since.
But the last time I saw him I remembered. I remembered what he did to me, and why he did it. I remember how he got away with it for years, and then I remembered how he took it one step further and tried to have me killed to protect himself.
This was my life, for decades. People were constantly willing to put my life, my feelings, and my needs, on the line, to protect themselves, and I was so blind to it all, my eyes covered to the cruelty of the people around me, that I didn’t see it until I lost my mind.
Losing my mind was an opportunity. A chance to build something new out of the shards I had left. Yes, I had broken apart, yes, I screamed, I yelled, I cried, and I am not ashamed. I deserved every single one of those tears.
I was hospitalized, and I was protected from the worst of my abusers. I am not ashamed of what I did to survive because that was my primary directive growing up. I was going to, and I did survive, all kinds of evil shit.
I’m here. That should make the world more afraid of me, not less. I’m not here to play around. I have a purpose on this planet and I mean to fulfill that purpose whether people like it or not, but it would be a hell of a lot easier if the people from my past got the fuck out of my way.
Let me say it loud and clear: The past is the past and it can’t come back, no matter how hard it tries. The past is dead. I burned that shit to the ground and salted the fucking earth. I no longer need you. It’s a privilege to be in my company and you don’t deserve to be in my company. You lost that right when you tried to murder me.
So yes, little by little the world will try to destroy you, but if you get to the place where you survive, and you start to actually find a place you can set down your own roots, the game changes.
And the hunters, get hunted.
Sending all my love,
Devon J Hall
If you have thoughts you’d like to add about this post, please leave a message, and let’s talk about them in the comments below
There are several ways to help support this site; if you’re interested, it’s much appreciated. Supporting this website means supporting a disabled mixed-race Black non-binary/she person. Thank you so much for your efforts. It means the world to me and convinces me to keep going.
If you’d like to read more of Devon’s work, check them out in the following publications.
Loud Mouth Brown Girl 
You must be logged in to post a comment.