They say that it takes seven years for every cell in your body to be replaced.
I guess that is why I am here today.
Seven years later as a new person.
A new person here to say that my trauma that has been chasing me for close to a decade was not able to get the best of me.
You still haunt me. I still wake up in a cold sweat at night thinking that you are back. I still flinch when I see a truck that looks like yours. And my heart still skips a beat if I hear your name.
But your chapter in my life is over.
The abuse that I have endured is no longer fresh on my body.
I remember writing poetry about it when it first happened, my way of trying to process it.
When I had first written that it takes seven years for every cell in your body to be replaced, I was yearning for that day. Ready for the day when I would no longer be haunted by your touch. The day when I wouldn’t be scrubbing my skin raw in the shower because I never felt clean; when I wouldn’t be tearing my skin apart because I could still feel you inside me.
I wrote it as though this was some impossible future, one I would not live to see.
But I am here.
Today I am here.
Seven years later, a brand new person.
I am here but I no longer feel like a whole person.
I am new. I am healed. I am stripped clean from your touch.
But I lost parts of myself to you.
As though, certain parts of me were not able to replaced, no matter how many years passed. Simply too damaged. Certain parts of me had to die instead of weighing me down.
The parts of me that were innocent. The parts of me that were trusting. The part of me that was supposed to be saved for my “someone special”. The parts of me that did not need to take a pill everyday to feel happy.
As much as I mourn what I lost to you, there are parts I am better off without.
The parts of me that were nervous. The parts of me that did not have a voice. The parts of me that wanted to be small and quiet.
Instead I have grown bigger and better. I can stand up for myself. I can protect myself. The cost of having these strengths is great. The sacrifice unforgettable. But I am stronger now, my wounds have healed and I have grown from a victim into a survivor.
Sometimes I wonder if in another 7 years if my body will have completely forgotten you. The memory of your touch no longer lingering. Residual memories engraved deep into my soul that have been impossible to erase. Like a haunting ghost story passed on through generations.
Sometimes I wonder if that will end. If I will ever feel like a whole person. If my relationship with my body will ever be normal again. Or if I will always hold resentment to my body for the memories of you. If I will always hold resentment to my skin for entrapping the feeling of your touch. If I will always hold resentment to my legs for not holding me up when I needed to flee. If I will always hold resentment to my mind for telling me to just endure it one more time, as if this time would surely be the last.
I suppose I will find out in another 7 years because at least now I know, I will live to see it. Despite you
6.11.21 -mc
