to LIVE by Brittany Marie Petersheim
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to LIVE by Brittany Marie Petersheim
It started with the leering looks . Eyes that stayed just a little too long on a body not meant to be viewed like that . Then came the jeers , “ You have a fat ass just like your mother ”, “ How can you look like that when you ’ re only 14 ?” When you ’ re a teenage girl , all too familiar with where this shit is going , it becomes hard to ignore-especially when you ’ re being thrown down stairs , beaten with a wooden paddle ; cut JUST to fit HIS hand . Self-worth issues ? Trust issues ? Sure . I ’ ve had a few . Thanks Dad .
I ’ d tell you to stop reading . I ’ d tell you to turn away . I won ’ t , because I ’ m not the only one who has ever been in this position . I ’ m not the only one who was ever molested by her own father . I ’ m not the only one with a story to tell . I AM however the only one who gets to decide HOW my
41 story is told and to whom . I am not a victim to my father ’ s sick and sadistic version of love . I ’ m not a victim of any of the shit that I ’ ve had to endure because I CHOOSE TO LIVE .
I know it seems like at first , this is going to be really telling , like some Barbara Walters ’ “ Brittany Tells All ” tonight on some fucken channel or other . ( Which , um Barbara , if you want to , I ’ m down !) No , this is about how my hard was hard and I survived that shit and I ’ ve moved on .
Moving on , and on , and on , and on …
Survivors . A good friend of mine and someone I admire immensely ( because her hard was hard and she chooses to LIVE just like I do ) once said to me that the word ‘ survivor ’ paves the way for you to think you have to survive everything that comes your way . And it ’ s fucken true ! I mean yea , I survived quite a number of things : my rapist father , his attempt on my life , my first heartache , my mother and her narcissism , my first car accident , and my first labor and delivery ( almost didn ’ t survive that second one though ). My point is that there are entirely too many situations that I have lived where I CHOSE to LIVE . That ’ s why , until I come up with something way badasser ( badassier ?) than this , I choose to be a LIVER . That ’ s right ! I ’ m a LIVER !!!
LIVERS FILTER … THAT ’ S THEIR J . O . B .
How poetic it is to compare someone ’ s journey through sex abuse and rape to healing and hope as a liver . Think about it . A liver ’ s purpose is to produce bile to carry away waste ; produce the