I have told that I write only “victim” writing. This may be partly true, but it much more than that.
I do not consider myself as a victim. Even when I was abused I never fitted neatly into the victim role.
I had too much anger. I was too determined to live. I had too much hate of my abusers.
The only way I was a victim, was I could not find an exit to end the violence done to my body and mind.
I consider my writing to be Witness Writing.
I write as clear as my mind lets me who I was, what it made me into.
I write because I know the violence that happened to me is happening to women and girls now.
I write to give words to what was wordless.
I write when I read other Survivors and know we have made a connection.
I do not write as a victim.
No each time I write, I feel the strength it took to live through so much violence and mental abuse.
I write to shed some of that strength and allow in grief and vulnerability.
I do not write to please anyone. I don’t write to be part of any gang.
I have not been brainwashed by radical feminists.
The voice that write was there when I was six, and I first experienced male violence.
Yes it has become the voice of an adult, but my views on porn, rape, prostitution and other forms of male control were formed by experience.
My words are mine, I may agree with some of radical feminism, but my views came from my heart and mind.
I do not need for others to control me or say what they think I have said.
Hell, I get that from my family and men that brought me for sex.
I write to say this is how many women and girls have to live inside the sex trade.
I begun writing when spurred by yet more murders of prostituted women.
I wrote because I was sick of the screaming in my stomach at yet more deaths. Yet more lives wasted.
Yet more women murdered after their lives were made invisible.
If I write for anyone, I write for the women I knew who were taken from this world.
I will never forget them, even if they have become nameless.