COURT: First Day Of The Rest Of My Life?

What do you do when everything changes? When you sit infront of 40 people and tell your deepest, most well kept secrets? When someone you love and have known for years suddenly sees the old parts of you and realizes what abuse did to you? Is there one single moment of clarity? Or does it come in waves?

I sat in a court room filled with both familiar strangers and souls whose paths I'd never crossed. There were people in that room I have not seen since childhood. I lived with "her" from the ages of 7 to 9. Some people say that you can't clearly remember events or details from that age. I do. I think everyone can. I saw her face and it looked the same. Erase some wrinkles and some graying hair, and she is the same person. Her eyes never changed. Her presence is still haunting. The memories of her still make me sick, violently so.

The man called my name and I walked down the hallway, turned the corner into the room with Blair right behind me holding my hand, looked up from the floor and I saw her face. I immediately turned around and hit the next door, to the women's washroom, and threw up in the trash bin. The man who had called my name raced in behind us, but left. I assume he went to tell the judge or whoever what was going on. I stayed in the bathroom puking for 15 minutes. After I collected myself and washed the running makeup off my face, I went back in. This time I did not look at her. I ignored the fact that I could feel her stare bore right through me. I sat in this little 3 sided box in a hard, uncomfortable chair. The lawyer told me to answer all questions as straight-forwardly as possible. It took maybe 15 minutes at the most. I told my story. I wasn't scared of her. It's almost like this little wooden railing in front of me became an invisible barrier. I kept thinking in my head..."There's a cop with a gun, this barrier is protecting me, she ain't comin over here!" I cried while I spoke my truth. It's human I guess. I stared straight at her when I walked out. She knew me, she remembered. The second I first made eye contact with her I could tell, she recognized me for exactly who I am, and who I was.

Immediately afterwards I couldn't even look at Blair. I was so ashamed and embarassed that I took everything upon myself. I didn't think I'd be able to face her. I saw her tears when I was speaking and shedding my own. She didn't bring anything up, she let me choose the topic of conversation. All she did was hug me. That's the first time in a long time anyone has held me other than my Abuela. It's like she understood without any words. She just held me, and when I pulled away she kissed my forehead and told me that I was brave. We went and had ice cream and talked about clothes, ahh to feel like a kid again!

My whole drive home I listened to music and cried! I just cried, and I screamed, and I didn't care which trucker was looking at me like a nutcase. The moment I went into my room to change my clothes my pillow caught my eye. I lay down for a minute and started to cry. This wasn't the same as before though. This was not sad tears, this was fucking pissed off tears. I hit my bed and my pillow as hard as I could. Now it's like a calm has come over me. I was able to collect all of my thoughts and actually put them into words. I was able to sit here for 10 minutes and type out this blog entry. I feel like I've removed a malignant tumor from my chest cavity. I feel like an adult. I feel safe. In Angela Shelton's version, I feel like I've removed the sword.