in praise of survivors

It's not safe but we survive, said the Palestinian. He knows better I thought. Cheers to that.

I still can't believe how easy it was. Being so close to evil can be so puzzling. Sleeping with a rapist or a thief just dims the light of the world.

About a year later, I run into the Aswani who I took home. We choose a street café and he speaks soft sweet words. I don't know why I was choose to sit with him, for validation or anthropological observation. I always said if they ask about their phones, they're up to stealing them. I fell into the trick I've warned off for long. I was truly trustful, not the point of taking him home. But I couldn't believe he'd do it.

The bastard was in my home. The only reason he didn't perpetrate was the fact that he saw others at my previous place. I don't know what he would have done if he got me alone.

Even after he's threatened with taking me to the police, I still gave him the benefit of doubt. But also, what else could I do but give him the benefit of the doubt?

In front of his threats, what were my options? Yell and shout? This could have easily turned into public torture by the café clients. It is true, potential survivors need to be empowered but we also need to address the structural issues that prevent that from happening.

I could have been less afraid. I need power and bravery to do that. To be able to fight that fight without anybody helping me.

An interesting way of dealing with triggers is imagining myself stabbing my perpetrators. The image of blood becomes a complete relief.

Not only did I try what it feels to be orally raped, I also know what it is to have sex in a public building. Exciting mix no?

Fear becomes part of you, of who you are. But also strength does. Survival is not just a trick, it's also a way of living.