Creative | Posted by Caroline B on 08/20/2015


I begin peeling off a layer of the mask that once covered my wounds. Starting with the

rehearsal smile hung high on my face

Revealing anger, torment, loneliness, vulnerability

I had to ignore the brewing storm of

frustration in my head

Just as they said to


On moving on


On healing yourself

What about working on justice?

What about having control over my own body?

That didn’t matter. Not to them. Because

somehow they had come to the conclusion that rules could be broken

By the man who held me down by my neck and told me not to scream

By the boyfriend who never made her comfortable enough to say stop

Because somehow suffocating the cries of violated women is the best way to solve a problem

No one wants to hear about

Because those I once trusted put a limit on the amount of skin

I was showing

The way I had my hair

The way I talked


And smiled

They asked me if I was drunk

Or high

Or alone

As if wearing a low-cut shirt was an invitation

A bottle of beer, sign of consent

As if the way I walked made me deserve what he did

As if the amount of makeup I wore determined the amount of damage he was allowed to do

As if the time of day made any goddamn difference

As if teaching girls to hide themselves from the world gets rid of the problem

Silencing the suppressed was easier for them than standing up for what is right

Funny, like rape is a joke

People with power play by the book as long as it’s written in their favor

They fight only battles

They have no chance at losing

They practice hardening their hearts while preaching about

Compassion and persistence

They are afraid of risks that need to be taken to achieve justice

They have more interest in protecting their reputation than their people

Why do we not teach our boys that women are not objects?

That women have a right to their bodies
That relationships do not validate perverse actions

That no does not need a reason to follow behind it

That they can no longer hide behind excuses

That they cannot force someone to do something they don’t want to


The mask others forced onto my face

Was about an attempt to suppress the reality

I peel away the last bit of my mask

It’s about time I revealed my scars.


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  • Jannessa Staat @ at 11:52 am, December 13th, 2016

    I think this is really something that people can relate too.

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