Thread by @guessimafab

i’m bad at letting myself be traumatized. i do a LOT of internalizing & repressing & also i’m like .. processing so Much Stuff that‘s emotionally overwhelming & mentally taxing stuff to work on so i can’t do it all the time. and sometimes i feel like i make such little progress.

i haven’t engaged with porn in an incredibly long time now but sometimes i feel hopeless because i actually feel like i can’t like disintangle my sex life and relationship with sex from pornography. i don’t mean to imply that i watch it, like it, or support it (because i don’t)

i mean the influences on my relationship w sex/intimacy from childhood- being exposed to bdsm/fetish porn from as early as age 9. i’m angry i was never allowed to process sexuality normally bc of how early i was exposed. some of my first childhood memories at all are of porn.

i struggle to remember anything from/about being a child prior to having been exposed to it. i don’t remember not knowing what sex was.# working through what that does to you esp in a Society(tm) that normalizes, even celebrates porn and bdsm..sometimes it feels so so impossible.

i had to learn how to be able to get physically turned without being degraded or feeling like i was being threatened which is so far from normal it makes me sick. it’s like they want us so screwed up that we have no choice but to need violent men for some semblance of normalcy.

at my lowest, i was struggling to understand why i felt so lost and alone. i was anally raped (my 1st rape) by a man. i was on drugs hed given me in exchange for PIV sex. i didn’t agree to anal but it happened. after he left i was dissociating & couldn’t accept what had happened.

i sat in my driveway fucked up on MDMA, not feeling real. hypersexuality is common after trauma & something i’ve always struggled w. i didn’t know how to or want to process what had happened. so i went on grindr. i was messaged by a sexually violent trans woman looking for a ftm.

(warning for my next few tweets, descriptions of sexual violence)
the TW was mid30s. picked me up & drove me to a motel where he already had a room. he was a Dom. he had braces w bright green rubberbands. cat whiskers drawn were drawn on his face, & was wearing cat ears & a tail.

i spent the next six hours in that room. i was like an object, a toy for him to do whatever he wanted w. i had a ball gag on. he put my head in the toilet. he tied me up and penetrated me, both himself and with objects that he had apparently had in his bdsm kit or something.

(big trigger warning here)
the most humiliating part. he penetrated me anally w a long thin chain & made me walk on my hands& knees around the room while he held it. he made me eat canned wet catfood. when he took the chain out i expelled blood on the floor & he said i was gross.

it goes on and on. i won’t detail it all. i don’t think i could. i spent 6 hours there after all. couldn’t tell what time it was, i was so dissociated & so far from sober (which i told him when he picked me up, that i was on drugs.) he filmed me a lot w his camera throughout it.

it was all awful, but i want to add that there was an uncomfortable weird “caretaker” role he was playing the whole time, where he acted like he was doing this because he loved me. it messed with my perception a lot. finally, i told him i needed to leave bc i had class that day.

i didn’t have anything to wear bc he’d picked me up in pajamas. he drove me to walmart & went inside while i sat in the car, he bought me an outfit & insisted i didn’t need to pay him. he gave me the SD card from his camera & said he didn’t want me to worry that it would get out.

i got home & snuck into my room (it was 8am) & collapsed onto the floor. my whole body felt weak. i tried 2 write abt whatd just happened but the muscles in my hands were clenched so tight i couldnt open my hands from fists even when i tried to hold a pen. i started to get dizzy.

i sat down on the toilet & realized i was expelling blood. there was no way i was going to be able to go to class. i needed medical attention. i didn’t know what i would say- didnt want to share the whole situation, was filled with shame & disgust, but i knew i needed a rape kit.

i took myself to the hospital & got one done. i mentioned only the first assault that night & insisted i didn’t want any DNA evidence taken. i didn’t want to think abt it anymore, i just wanted to make sure i was physically okay. the nurses and doctors (all women) were wonderful.

it took a few hrs. i was connected w resources for victims. i got home & curled up in a ball on my bed.
i felt guilty. disgusting. if i’d rly been raped why would i have put myself in such a horrific sexual situation immediately? why did i go there and let him treat me that way?

& i felt LUCKY that i wasn’t assaulted b4/until this. i was 21. i didn’t even let myself grieve. i felt like i’d been waiting for it to happen. we count down the days til somebody takes our body from us. we feel like we belong to everyone so we might as well get turned on by it.

i don’t have much else to say. i’m still healing. the other day i reached into my closet & my hand touched a chain hanging from a pair of pants- i felt like my heart stopped. it’s been a journey & hard work trying to be kind & gentle to myself. but i’m trying.
thanks for reading.

((also, if you’re one of the (very very few) ppl following me who knows me, i’d appreciate if you not message me privately on fb or anything abt this thread. i understand your concern and desire to support but i just prefer a little space about this. thank u gyns u know ily ❤️))