Loud Mouth Brown Girl

I never thought I’d write this letter. In fact until this very morning, I never even thought about writing a letter like this. Until I found out that many of the same women who were with the men who raped me, are still beside them…I have some thoughts.

There was a time I believed many of you deserved better than what you were getting. Many times I shouldered the brunt of the abuse that you weren’t getting, because you were the Princess, and I was the sacrifice. Many times I gave you respect in public, while hating your very existence in private, because I knew what you didn’t know.

You were never their first. I was. Decades before you knew who they were, I was their first victim, their first time, their first experience with violation.

I remember being about six years old, and a blonde haired blue eyed boy told me he was going to rape me. I kicked him in the balls so hard he went running to his mother. Who called my mother, who congratulated me for standing up for myself. Even if it was…perhaps not the best choice at the time. (It sincerely was.)

I wish I’d had more of that girl inside of me when I was growing up, more of the girl who was willing to fight for herself, but eventually it just became easier to play the role and giev in.

I wish that like you, I had been protected, but I don’t wish that I had given up my Blackness to protect me. I want you to know that, I would never want to be you.

I was chosen by the most disgusting, evil, disingenuine people on the planet, to experience some really horrible shit, but at least I got out. At least I don’t go to bed every night knowing my person is capable of rape, kidnapping, and damned near murder just to get a gang patch.

This is the level of “success” your man desires to be. A gangster. Not even a real gangster, because let’s be real its’ about the numbers not the credibility.

Now that they did what they did to me, there’s no getting out, because pictures were taken that night, film was made, people will remember, and worse, people won’t forget how to use what was done to me, to keep your men in line.

I just want you to know that.

There.

Is.

No.

Getting.

Out.

It’s been nine years, the statue of limitations has run out. Your men have had plenty of time to come forward, tell the truth, admit to being victims of childhood sex trafficking, and get the slap on the wrists they would have deserved. But they chose this.

They chose not to do that. They choose to continue to wake up every single day, go to work, play with your children, hang with your family, and remain a rapist.

I just want you to think about that. I Just want you to understand the kind of man you chose, is the man who chooses to remain a rapist.

I want you to know every bone I broke, every tooth I lost, every scar I gained, came at the result of being raped by a man from North Delta, Surrey BC or Vancouver, BC among other places.

I want you to know that they are Counselors, Weed salesmen, they are carpenters, and truck drivers, and losers.

Your men, for whatever they are worth are disgusting losers, who aren’t going to go far in this world.

Even if they never face jail, even if the worst that happens is that the trauma they inflicted haunts them until they die, the result is going to be that your child(ren) were raised by rapists.

I think that’s why so many of you are so quiet these days. For weeks and months it’s been crickets on the “we’re going to get you” comments, and I think it’s because deep down you know the truth now.

You know I wouldn’t have been peddling the story about Keith, and Warren, And Sean, and Chris, and sooo many others, if it wasn’t true, in some way shape or form.

I want you to know people have died to keep my secret. People have been murdered to keep my secret, and even if the cops refuse to acknowledge that, you and I know it’s true.

Oh, I know there’s a very real danger in you coming forward. I’m waving my hands of that belief, I know many of you can’t come forward because it could be you next. I’m very aware.

But I am asking you to leave. I am asking you to take your children and run, I am offering you the grace never offered to me. Get the fuck out.

Leave. Now. Because its’ only going to get worse. Karma comes one way or another, the violence, the trauma, the addiction issues, poverty, neglect, all of the shit you’re already facing is going to get worse, the darker the rabbit hole these men go down.

I’ve seen the result of gang life a thousand times. Jails, Institutions, and Death. But they forget the other side of that.

They forget about the times when grown ass men rape grown ass men, or beat them, torture them and brand them, rip their patches off, and set them on fire. They don’t talk about that stuff. They don’t talk about women and children running for their lives in the middle of the night. Oh I’ve been down that road with my family more than once.

Unfortunately we didn’t run far enough away because they found us anyway, so when it’s your turn run so far that you don’t have to look over your shoulder.

Make a plan, execute the plan, and tell no one when you’re actually going. Just get the fuck out.

Because right wrong or indifferent to me, you deserve the space to heal from the trauma these men inflicted upon us. You deserve space to decide who you want to be, outside of being a rapist’s baby mama or wifey. Ugh what a stupid fucking term.

WIFE is a term worthy of respect. It means one, only, true and forever. I’ve seen real women become wives, and it’s a beautiful transition. I’ve seen women who have escaped gang life, and yeah they had to fight to get out, but they got out and found their forever person.

I don’t know if you deserve that after all these years, but I hope you get it.

Sending all my love,

Devon J Hall, The Original Loud Mouth Brown Girl

OH! And before I get, to all the men that raped me? Still Black, and Still Ghey as Fuck. Like the gayest girl of all the girls ever. Just so you know. You can’t “actually” rape the gay away, as it turns out.