whatitsliketobeagirl

[whatitsliketobeagirl]

“ I’d do whatever I could do.

I’d runaway and hide with you.

I know that you got Daddy Issues ”.

[whatitsliketobeagirl]

[whatitsliketobeagirl]

[whatitsliketobeagirl]

“ emptying out of my mother’s belly was my first act of disappearance learning to shrink for a family who likes their daughters invisible was the second the art of being empty is simple believe them when they say you are nothing repeat it to yourself like a wish i am nothing i am nothing i am nothing so often the only reason you know you’re still alive is from the heaving of your chest ”

— Rupi Kaur, Milk and Honey

[whatitsliketobeagirl]

Abuse

At the age of 6, me and my brother got our heads hit against each others. Cause, we shouted at our nanny.

At the age of 7, I got a cube shaped glass lamp thrown at me. Cause, I woke up my mother from her nap.

At the age of 8, I got hit with a hair brush on the head. Cause, I came home without my brother after school, worrying my mother.

At the age of 10, I got dragged by the hair and slapped in the face. Cause, I cut my own hair.

At the age of 11, I got dragged by the hair and slapped in the face again. Cause, I shaved my own legs.

At the age of 12, I got dragged by the hair and slapped in the face at every conflict and heated encounter with my mother. One of the causes, I was flirting with my crush on Facebook.

Another cause, my mother thought something wrong was going on with my childhood best friend, because we both put “married” in our Facebook profile, as a joke.

At the age of 13, I got dragged by the hair, slapped in the face. Cause, I got caught smoking for the first time.

At the age of 14, I stopped my mother from hitting me for the first time, I grabbed her wrists and held on to them until she yelled for my father’s help.

Things changed.

At the age of 15, my father grabbed me by the neck and the hair. Cause, he was trying to get me out from the edge of the balcony.

At the age of 15, my father punched me in the stomach. Cause, my suicidal thoughts and the way I was sitting on the balcony could’ve gotten them in trouble if I was seen by any one.

At the age of 15, my father threatened my life then chased me to my room. Cause, I was talking back to him.

At the age of 15, my father was banging on my bathroom door, threatening me if I didn’t come out as I was slaughtering my left forearm open. Cause, I managed to run faster then him and lock myself in my bathroom.

At the age of 16, my father took me aside to the balcony, walked towards me as I was pushing myself against the wall, hands on my face, as he held his high up. Cause, he wanted me to admit that I drank.

At the age of 16, after an argument, my father chased me to my room because I said he wasn’t my father. He made me repeat it. He slapped me once. For the first time, I didn’t bow down, I fought back, trying to forget my natural instinct of fear from danger. From the top of my 5′2 body, I struggle to defend myself against a 43 year old grown 6′ man. I would shout back at him, calling him useless and toxic for my family. I mentioned his past and confronted him directly, for the first time, about his 2 years long infidelity. He slapped me in the eye more than 10 times. I would say something, he would hit… The cycle went on, until my left eye was left completely red and bruised. The black eye and marks remained for 5 days.