The Dangers of fleeing violent Incestuous Gay Predators Alone

A Man punching something- image Source: Pexels 

I have struggled to put into words the chaos and tumult that has been my life. As a single, straight woman, I am often expected to walk the lines of a quiet, pleasing, life; never venturing into the realm of societal disruption. Yet, that was never an option for me. My reality was so far removed from the rose-colored norms.

Life decided to throw me onto a battlefield at an early age. Instead of being on the playground, enjoying the simplicities of life, I found myself fleeing for survival from traumatic experiences. I became the prey to predators cloaked as protectors. Gay men that sexually abused me. Stalked by a bunch of lesbians who practiced incest. People who exploited their power to terrify and scar a defenseless, innocent child. As is the natural instinct of every being in grave danger, I ran, but my tormentors would follow me wherever I would go. A sad reality of today's society is the formation of gangs; some representing territories, some an ideology, but many perpetuating violence, and they were everywhere.  

My past experiences stand as a criticism and demonization of the gay community. In all groups of people, there are individuals who harm others. Those who assaulted and traumatized me were criminals who happened to identify as LGBTQ+ and their sexual orientation caused most people to protect them, and ignored their cruel, illegal actions against me.

 As a victim, there came a time when I was convinced that running away would alleviate my troubles. In my naive mind, the thought of simply escaping to a place where my tormentors could no longer reach me seemed like the solution, but life proved me wrong, yet again. Running away might have put a few miles between me and my abusers, but it never erased the marks they left behind. Worse, I found myself pursued by my past. With each step, the feeling of helplessness and despair seemed to double. One would hope that the societal support system would step in at such critical times. Alas, in many instances, I find myself screaming in voids. Support was a luxury I could never afford, hence making running away more unsafe than I ever imagined. A run which never lead me anywhere but closer to danger. Living a life on the run is no life at all. There is only so much one can take. I was constantly fleeing, constantly terrified. My life was spent looking over my shoulder, anticipating an assault from every corner. In hindsight, it seems clear. Instead of focusing all my energy on outrunning these dangerous situations, I should've faced them. Stood my ground and fought, not with arms but with courage. I've lived this long carrying my past as a heavy load on my back. It's time for me to start healing, time to begin fighting for justice for myself. A beginning where running isn't the only option, a beginning where I reclaim the control that was stolen from me. A beginning where the only thing I should be running towards is my freedom and healing.