JhonRae's Blog

 I said no but you kept pursuing. Worn down and trapped. I said I didn’t like it, you said it was fine. I wasn’t getting through. Thoughts dismissed, replaced with hesitation. The pressure is heavy. I was in a strange place, manipulating the scene. Coercion is not consent. As I reflect on this poem in the context of my life and other’s experiences, I realize how common it is to downplay what really happened. Victims blame themselves. Shame, fear, and embarrassment are involved. Not recognizing what happened due to manipulation and pressure. Then you add trauma responses to the situation this can affect how someone remembers or even talks about it. I want to remind anyone that has ever experienced this, it has nothing to do with your intellect. Admittingly, I have downplayed my own experiences for various reasons. I remember I told my friend David about some of the experiences, but I kept downplaying it because I already felt weak and defeated. I felt dumb that I i...

I was watching small clips of carrot in a box game and as I was laughing it reminded me of when my ex and I played Battleship. For the 10 years we were together he never beat me. Not once. I started reminiscing and giggling to myself about how sometimes he thought I was cheating because I would just massacre his ship quickly. It was a random but significant memory for me. I guess I just wanted to write down a happy memory today because it’s been so gloomy lately.

Lately I have been thinking of my dad. I think part of it is because of the people I meet, what is said and not said. I’ve met people that talk about how they want to have a family or ones that are already established one. Both are amazing to want and to have. However, I am in a different category. I can’t and don’t want children for various reasons. I think about how my very existence disgusted my father. He wrote me a few letters stating how he wished I was never born or I wasn’t his child. I was about 12-13 years old when he would write me letters of disgust towards me. He also stated once that he felt anger that everyone but him received money to have me. He was referring to my mom and my different foster homes. Actually, one of my foster mom’s did a similar thing. I was about 16 years old walking past her office and I over her talking to someone on the phone. She stated, “I need more foster kids I am making a lot of money.” I never told her even to this day that I overheard what...

 I went to therapy the other day for the first time in almost a year. I was able to make a same day appointment thankfully because to be completely transparent I was uncontrollably sobbing after the strange interview I had. Later I messaged an acquaintance and told her what happened more in-depth. Even though I acknowledge that I was having anxiety during the interview she told me “I’m frustrated for you and with her. For what it’s worth it sounds more like the problems were more tied to where she was at than your actions.” I don’t know if this is true. However, I do agree that during an interview an interviewer should never just say well we are not hiring. She wasted my time and hers. Again, I will admit I am not perfect, but I feel like others have continuously treated me as if I have no clue what I am doing. Also, I do want to reflect back and note that I did call this employer a few days prior to this interview introducing myself. I want to remember how she made me feel just ...

Two nights ago, I woke up in a panic. I felt the same feelings I felt when I lost my mom, uncle and cat. I was re-living those moments of feeling as though it wasn’t real that they were gone. A deeper realization that is indescribable. My PTSD symptoms are really bad lately and it’s been getting harder to manage. I just want to be held and feel safe without judgement. 

I am a puppet and you are my master. I am a jester for your entertainment. I am your toy to play with as you wish. I am your barbie doll to tell me how to look. I am naive for you to teach me. I am weak for you to look strong. I am invisible for you to be seen. I am your fetish for you to feel secure. I am your trophy to prove status. I am vulnerable, for you to look like my savior.   This poem is inspired by accumulation of men I have met throughout my life and their perception of me in the context of how they want me to make them feel. In all reality I am none of these things. As Dolly Parton quoted “all these years, people think the joke has been on me, but it’s actually been on the public.”