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you may punish me

fear release

TRICK ME AND CONVINCE ME LIES ARE TRUE ALL YOU WANT MAKE ME FEEL SMALL AND UGLY AND ANXIOUS CONTROL ME JAM A SCREWDRIVER IN MY IGNITION AND REV THE ENGINE WITH THE EBRAKE ON ALL FUCKING DAY LONG CONVINCE ME AT BIRTH THAT YOU ARE GOD AND AS I GET OLDER MAKE ME FEEL LIKE I WILL BE LIVING ON THE STREETS IF I DONT TREAT YOU LIKE GOD TELL ME JOKES LIKE THERE ARE TWO DIFFERENT TYPES OF HOMELESS KIDS – HUSTLERS AND DEAD KIDS AND THEN TELL ME I DONT HAVE WHAT IT TAKES TO HUSTLE BREAK MY LEGS IN THE CHARNEL GROUNDS AND LEAVE ME FOR DEAD MAKE ME FEEL RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR PAIN AND THEN TELL ME HOW YOUR PAIN IS DEBILITATING MAKE ME PLIÉ AND SAUTÉ FOR YOUR FRIENDS

SEW YOUR CONFLICTING AND IMPOSSIBLE EXPECTATIONS INTO THE HEM OF EVERY JUMPER AND JACKET

TELL ME IM A BURDEN MAKE ME DO CHORES AND HUFF AND PUFF WHEN THE BASEBOARDS ARENT PERFECT LET MY TRY AT FOUR AND FIVE MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE IM PURPOSELY MAKING LIFE MORE DIFFICULT FOR YOU RAGE ON ME WHEN NO ONE IS LOOKING PROVOKE ME IN THE CAR AT THE DINNER TABLE WALKING ONTO THE CN TOWER ELEVATOR LOCK ME IN THE BATHROOM WITH YOU FOR THE AFTERNOON WITH A RAZOR BLADE PRESSED TO YOUR SKIN TELL YOUR HUSBAND YOURE REALLY GOING TO DO IT THIS TIME AS HE TRIES TO OPEN THE LOCKED DOOR AND WHEN HE SAYS HE DOESNT GIVE A SHIT TELL HIM YOULL KILL HIS PRECIOUS DAUGHTER MAKE ME FEEL SAFE ONLY WHEN WE ARE IN PUBLIC BECAUSE YOU CAN MYSTERIOUSLY CONTROL YOUR EMOTIONS AND CHOICES WHEN OTHER ADULTS ARE WATCHING BUY ME TAP SHOES AND THEN THROW ME OFF A CRUISE SHIP VISIT ME IN THE HOSPITAL AND IGNORE ALL OF MY SUFFERING BECAUSE YOURE BLINDED BY ENVY WHEN I ASK YOU TO BUY ME A NEW PAIR OF JEANS IN A SMALLER SIZE TELL MY AUNTS AND COUSINS THAT YOURE WORRIED ABOUT ME SIX MONTHS BEFORE YOU KICK ME OUT OF YOUR HOME BECAUSE WE JUST DONT GET ALONG ANYMORE MAKE SURE TO USE YOUR KNOWLEDGE OF MY INSECURITIES TO MANIPULATE ME AND PROVOKE ME IN FRONT OF FAMILY AND DO WHATEVER IT TAKES TO DISCREDIT ME TELL ME IN THE EIGHTIES THAT YOUD RATHER BE DEAD THAN PICK UP ONE MORE TOY OR LISTEN TO ONE MORE ARGUMENT KICK ME WHEN IM DOWN STEAL MY VOICE LOCK ME OUT OF MY OWN APARTMENT CRASH ME INTO A WALL DRIVE ME OFF A CLIFF INTO THE OCEAN ALL DAY LONG EVERY DAY FOR MY WHOLE LIFE JUST BECAUSE ITS FUN FOR YOU

PUNCH ME IN THE HEAD WHILE IM SLEEPING KICK ME OUT OF BED WITH YOUR ARMS AND LEGS RECORD ME SNORING AND PLAY IT AT THANKSGIVING DINNER STORE YOUR ANGER INSIDE MY BELLY SIT BACK AND LAUGH AS YOU WATCH ME GET SO UPSET IN YOUR PLACE WHEN A FRIEND THREATENS TO EXPOSE YOU TAKE EVERYTHING I EVER TOLD YOU IN CONFIDENCE AND TWIST IT AND USE IT TO MAKE ME LOOK LIKE IM THE ONE WHO LIKES TO HURT PEOPLE TELL ME NO ONE WILL EVER LOVE ME POUR WATER ON THE STEPS IN FEBRUARY WATCH ME FALL AND LAUGH SO LOUD THE NEIGHBOURS CAN HEAR MAKE ME BELIEVE IM NOTHING BECAUSE YOU HATE YOURSELF AND YOU CANT HANDLE ANYONE YOUVE GIVEN CLOUT TO EVEN BEING PERCEIVED AS MAYBE BETTER THAN YOU AT ONE THING EMOTIONALLY BLACKMAIL ME INTO BECOMING YOUR GIRLFRIEND BY TELLING ME AFTER BEING BEST FRIENDS WHO SPENT EVERY DAY TOGETHER FOR A YEAR THAT IF I DONT SAY YES YOU WILL NOT BE MY FRIEND ANYMORE PROVOKE ME WITH AN INSULT YOU KNOW HURTS ME NO MATTER HOW CHILL I AM TO PROVE TO OUR FRIENDS THAT YOU ARE BETTER CHEAT ON ME BUT TELL EVERYONE A FRIEND IS IMMATURE WHEN HE GETS CAUGHT CHEATING ON HIS GIRLFRIEND TEACH MY DAUGHTER TO TURN AWAY FROM ME AND TELL ME I AM DISGUSTING WHEN I START SMOKING AGAIN TEACH HER I HAVE NO VALUE AS A HUMAN BECAUSE I HAVE A BIRTHMARK ON THE RIGHT SIDE OF MY FACE TELL ME IM BEING DRAMATIC SAY NOTHING WHEN I ASK YOU TO TELL ME YOU LOVE ME WITHHOLD SEX TO PUNISH ME TELL ME TO RELAX COME HOME ‘LATE FROM WORK’ A LOT LIE TO OUR FRIENDS TELL THEM THAT I DID EVERY HORRIBLE THING YOU DID TO ME TEXT ME ON BOXING DAY TO LET ME KNOW I SHOULD HAVE KILLED MYSELF BECAUSE NOBODY WOULD CARE IF I WAS DEAD EVEN THOUGH I NEVER TOLD YOU I WAS FEELING SUICIDAL TELL THE POLICE I KILLED SOMEONE KNOWING I DIDNT BECAUSE YOU KNOW MY MOTHER WAS KILLED BY HER FATHER AND YOU KNOW AN INVESTIGATION WILL UNEARTH TERRIFYING MEMORIES AND FEELINGS IVE BEEN “RUNNING FROM” FOR MORE THAN TWENTY YEARS TELL ME IM A CUNT WHEN YOU ASK ME TO MEET FOR DROP OFF FIVE HOURS EARLY IGNORE MY CALLS WHEN YOU JUST DONT SHOW UP ONE SUNDAY BECAUSE YOU LOVE TO PUNISH ME TELL ME YOU WISH I HAD DIED INSTEAD OF YOUR MOM BLAME ME FOR EVERYTHING YOU HATE ABOUT YOUR 9-5 JOB BREAK INTO MY DREAMS AND FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENED TO ME BUT TELL ME IM ACTING CHILDISH WHEN I TRY TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT WHY I CANNOT GET ALONG WITH MY PARENTS TAKE ME TO COURT BECAUSE YOURE INSULTED SOMEONE AS UGLY AND FAT AND WORTHLESS AS ME LEFT TELL PEOPLE I WONT LET YOU SPEND TIME WITH YOUR DAUGHTER EVEN AFTER YOUR LAWYER FIRES YOU BECAUSE SHE FOUND OUT YOU DONT WANT MORE TIME WITH YOUR DAUGHTER BUT YOU DO WANT AN AGREEMENT THAT MAKES IT LOOK LIKE YOU WILL SPEND MORE THAN THREE DAYS WITH YOUR CHILD IN THE SUMMER OUTSIDE OF TWO WEEKENDS A MONTH REFUSE TO GO TO MARITAL COUNSELLING EVEN THOUGH I BEG YOU SPEND FIVE YEARS IN OUR TWENTIES EVADING A DECISION ABOUT MARRIAGE BECAUSE YOU DONT BELIEVE IN IT BUT THEN YOURE NOT SURE BUT THEN MAYBE YOU DO WANT TO GET MARRIED BUT THEN YOURE NOT SURE AGAIN IF YOU BELIEVE IN MARRIAGE ITS JUST A PIECE OF PAPER WHATS THE DIFFERENCE ALLOW ME TO SUPPORT YOU FOR NINE YEARS AS YOU PURSUE YOUR DREAM BUT EXPECT ME TO WORK THROUGH HEART PROBLEMS AND SEVERE DEPRESSION EVEN WHEN YOU FINALLY GET A STEADY PAYCHEQUE TELL PEOPLE IM A GOLD DIGGER TELL OUR DAUGHTER IM A BAD MOM BECAUSE I CANT AFFORD A CAR SHIFT INTO REVERSE AND TAKE YOUR FOOT OFF THE BRAKE WHEN IM STANDING BEHIND YOUR CAR

I MAY STAY DOWN I MAY HIDE AND MY LEGS MAY CRUMPLE I MAY PULL OFF THE HIGHWAY I MAY SPEND THE REST OF MY LIFE TOO AFRAID OF PEOPLE TO BE WILLING TO TRY TO LOVE AND BE LOVED AGAIN

BUT I WILL NOT BREAK AND IM NOT THE ONE YOU HAVE TO FACE WHEN ITS TIME TO ACCOUNT FOR YOUR CHOICES

YOU MAY BEND MY WILL AND THREATEN ME YOU MAY HIDE IN MY LIGHT AND MANIPULATE ME INTO PROTECTING YOU BEFORE I KNOW WHAT IS HAPPENING YOU MAY SYPHON MY LIGHT AND TELL EVERYONE ITS YOURS AND YOU MAY EVEN CONVINCE ME BUT YOU CAN NEVER BEND GODS WILL AND YOU CAN NEVER THREATEN GOD AND YOU CAN NEVER STEAL FROM GOD AND YOU CAN NEVER TRICK GOD

AND REGARDLESS OF HOW YOUVE USED ME AND TRAINED ME TO BEHAVE, I AM NOT NOR HAVE I EVER BEEN JESUS OR ANY OTHER INTERMEDIARY BETWEEN YOU AND GOD, SO I WILL NOT BE STANDING BESIDE YOU WHEN YOUR JUDGEMENT DAY COMES

I Don’t Bluff

Astrid was a shiny, funny, easy-going kid who made friends with everyone. Strangers were drawn to us no matter where we went, and in the beginning, I felt beyond lucky that she was my man’s kid.

I’d been through enough raising my own two, being a single mom dealing with their rotten dads, working three jobs, having to quit drinking basically on my own because insurance only covered six weeks in rehab.

My oldest, Starr, still blames me for not being there for her when she says she needed me most. I tell her to suck it up and be happy she’s not me, because she has it way better than I ever did.

She knows it, too, because whenever they talk, my dad tells her he misses Tsula. That was my mom. She took off when I was three, and the cops came to our house four years later to let us know her body had washed up on the shores of Lake Ontario.

As an angry teen, I fantasized that Tsula was taken, strangled, made to have sex with fat, greasy white men, and then murdered when she was no longer useful to the men who took her.

I hated the truth. She was a drunk who didn’t love her children enough to get and stay sober.

Well, I broke that cycle all by myself. I chose my kids over booze. I decided that no one and nothing would have that kind of power over me.

As I was saying, Starr doesn’t have a clue what hardship is, and I let her know it.

And that son of mine might well have the devil in him. He got it from his dad, obviously. I don’t believe in that Jesus shit because I’ve done just fine taking care of myself.

I had to make sure I could take care of myself. That’s why I got into witchcraft, which plenty of sweethearts will tell you is harmless, and it mostly is, unless you use it the way I do.

It’s not like it is in the movies and I won’t tell you what it’s like or you could use it on me. No, I won’t be controlled. Nobody controls me. Not ever again.

Astrid and I became close after her dad moved into my house. She was with us every other weekend. I was more than happy to do the cooking, cleaning, and taking care of his four year old back then. I wanted to prove that I was good wife material.

Whenever we went to Costco, women came up to us to compliment her gorgeous, curly blonde hair. She was so well behaved, politely saying thank you.

I hit the jackpot with that kid, I really did. Astrid is easy to care for. She never asks for anything. She’s good at taking direction, too. All she wants is to soak up all the love she can get.

Her mom is a crazy bitch who thinks she’s better than us because she’s teaching Astrid to be super nice – to the point of being walked over – while we have a more realistic idea of everything. She’s one of those crunchy granola moms from Pinterest who we all hate – like, what are you trying to prove – except she doesn’t cook.

I can take care of her, though. I’m not worried at all. Everything I have in my life I earned. I fight to keep my family, unlike her. She just walked away from a good thing – duel income, husband with only one side piece as far as I knew, new house in a growing city, a baby daddy who absolutely lit up when he showed me photos of Astrid.

That’s when I knew I loved him, seeing the way he started to glow whenever he spoke about his kid.

I admit, times were better a fews years ago. Things haven’t turned out how I wanted. For some reason, my witchcraft has only gone so far in all situations to do with my family.

When my son was seven and Astrid was four, I bewitched him to take care of her in a responsible way so that my man and I could have some private time together.

There were some glitches. He put a rope around her neck, attached another rope and then made her get on all fours barking like a dog. He pulled her all over the yard until an adult noticed.

Later, I found out that my son forced her to eat dog food and keep it a secret. That’s when I started to wonder about that boy.

There were a few more incidents like that over the first fews years – Astrid almost getting hit by a car, blah, blah, blah.

Crunchy granola bitch called Child Services on us! I couldn’t believe it. I have been through so much with both of my kids’ dads and there was only one time Child Services was called. Because of my drinking, which I see now was really bad, and that’s why I stopped.

But to call for that? She’s a real princess, Astrid’s mom. It made me so fucking mad. I had to make sure it didn’t happen again.

Despite my witchcraft, it turned out that Astrid had told her mom what happened. I had no choice, I had to take it to another level. Nobody threatens my family.

When my man was out the next weekend Astrid was over, I made her a sandwich and made her eat it alone in the kitchen. While she ate, I pretended to be on the phone talking about how crazy her mom was, how that kind of crazy could ruin families, and how I was never going to let that happen. I made sure to speak loud and clear when I said, “If this keeps happening, I’ll put poison in Astrid’s food because I know dead kids can’t talk.”

I went back into the kitchen to check on her, make sure she had heard. I asked how she was, and she said she was fine, but her face was pale and her voice shook.

It worked, too, for a few years, until that devil son of mine crossed a line.

When Astrid was eight, she started crushing on her step-brother pretty hard. I didn’t think anything of it until my mother-in-law asked about it.

She said it wasn’t normal the way my son was flirting with her, especially since he was eleven. That really freaked me out. The last thing I needed was that crunchy granola bitch getting a hold of my son doing something illegal. I had a really gross feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I had to know.

I snuck down the basement stairs to spy on them. What I saw nearly gave me a stroke. They were cuddling together under a blanket. I couldn’t see their hands. The blanket seemed to be moving.

I flicked on the lights. My son sat straight up quick. I heard his belt buckle. When I stared into his eyes with all of my anger, his cheeks turned pink.

I marched him upstairs by the ear, told him to wash his hands and get changed, and then I took him out for a drive so nobody could overhear us

I was so mad it was hard to see straight. I told him that touching an eight year old was not okay, especially his step-sister. I made sure he was aware of the serious consequences if anyone ever found out – especially Astrid’s mom, who would have him charged for certain.

He would be charged, have to go to trial in front of a judge where he’d have to talk about all of those private things, and then he would either be found guilty or innocent. Guilty could mean juvie, and I wasn’t going to let any son of mine be in the system.

He started freaking out. I thought he was going to hyperventilate.

“Listen to me very carefully, son. You can take care of this.”

He started to cry. “I don’t want to go to jail, Mom, you have to do something.”

“No,” I took his chin into my hands and then looked into his eyes. “You can do this yourself. You will have to tell Astrid that it will never happen again. And this is very important, son, you have to make sure she doesn’t tell by letting her know you would kill her if she ever did tell.”

“Fuck you, Mom, I’m not going to kill Astrid.”

“Calm your hormones! I didn’t tell you to kill her, I told you to make her believe you would kill her if she ever tells.”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want to go to jail? Do you want the filthy disgusting things you did with her to be on your record?”

“No!”

“Then you have to do this, son. Tell her she will die if she says anything. Tell her you will kill her. Make sure she believes it. You hear me?”

“Yes.”

Harvey

I don’t even remember meeting him. He was always just there.

So, I had a secret boyfriend in my teens. He was way older. I can’t say how old he was, because he would get in trouble.

Nobody knew about him. Nobody but me and him.

I went for a long time without calling in my twenties. But we had one of those relationships where he was never really out of my life.

He knew I was serious about a relationship, which is why he was extra discreet and considerate whenever he needed me.

Maybe I should start this story again. I don’t know where to start, though. I don’t even remember meeting him. He was always just there. This man has always been in my life. And he’s always been married, but I didn’t understand what that meant when I was younger.

His name was Harvey. He stood tall and his presence was alarmingly big. His presence cut through everything.

Harvey told me I was beautiful and super smart, almost as smart as him. He said I was mature for my age. I believed everything he said. Why else would an older man want to spend time with me?

He also told me that I was slutty with guys my age and that I embarrassed myself when I wore crop tops and dark lipstick.

But that was only when he was in a bad mood. Harvey was a jealous guy.

He could also be a father figure. He wanted me to lean on him when I struggled with decisions. He taught me discipline. He never came right out and said what he thought of my high school boyfriends, but he made comments – offhand unclear metaphors about teen boys in general. I guess I was supposed to decode those messages. Or maybe I wasn’t. Harvey was big on teaching me to think for myself. Nobody had done that. He said it was a shame I had no role models to raise me proper.

Harvey thought my parents were stupid. He said parents should know what’s going on with their kids. He said that I deserved better. He was the better.

I don’t think my parents were stupid. But I know they didn’t love me. They didn’t see me. I was riding in cars with boys by the time I was 14. I was out getting stupid drunk on vodka and oj – drinking entire 26ers and, one time, sleeping in a tent next to tracks back when the trains still ran.

A friend’s father called them that night to check on her. We did that thing where we both tell our parents we’re at the other’s house. When he found out she wasn’t safe, he went out looking for us. He practically had to drag my dad out of bed.

After that incident, my parents stopped asking where I would be. They just gave me a curfew and were in bed most nights before I got home.

See why I think they didn’t really love me?

But Harvey loved me. He took care of me in ways I needed but didn’t know I needed.

Because he was married, he thought it was a good idea for me to date boys my own age. He knew that I wanted to be with him. I knew that was impossible. So, we shared. It was as good as it was going to get for us.

Looking back now, I don’t think I would have felt safe dating boys my age if Harvey wasn’t around. I knew that he would take care of any situation that came to me. He’d never let a boy get away with hitting me.

Harvey was very protective of me. He was intelligent and street smart, because in his younger years he got caught up with the wrong crowd and ended up in jail.

No boy would know what hit him if Harvey had to step in.

I don’t know why I felt that I needed to be protected like that. No boy had ever hit me. I couldn’t explain, so I didn’t dwell. Some mysteries aren’t meant to be solved. That’s what Harvey said.

When I got serious about a relationship in my 20s, I sat down with Harvey to find out his thoughts. I was nervous. Part of me still wanted it to be just us, even though I knew that was impossible. Part of me wanted to have a chance to put my whole heart into my new love.

I told Harvey that we were talking about moving in together. I said it was what people did at my age when we’d been together for a few years.

He got weirdly serious, or maybe formal is the right word. He asked me if I wanted to be with this guy. He asked if I saw it going toward marriage. He asked if I felt he treated me right.

He didn’t ask about the boy’s job or career aspirations. He didn’t ask me to detail exchanges between us. He didn’t ask if I loved him or thought he loved me.

Harvey had access to information about people and I never did figure out how. I assumed that he already knew what this boy did for a living, who his family was, how he did in school and who he spent time with when he wasn’t working.

I won’t say that Harvey gave me permission to move in with the boy, it was different. If I had to explain it, I’d say he sanctioned the relationship between me and the boy.

And he promised he wouldn’t interfere. I was a grown woman. He wanted me to make grown woman decisions.

Harvey told me that he was going to give us space to be together, but that he wouldn’t be out of reach. Anything I needed, I just had to call. And I took him up on that especially in the first year I lived with the boy. Life after college wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. I ended up having to work at a full serve gas station to make the rent while the guy I lived with pursued his dreams (which made no money.)

Harvey called me a few times in that first year. His marriage was going through a transition. His wife was struggling with the idea of being an empty nester as their youngest went off to college.

We spent a few afternoons together. Though my boyfriend didn’t know it, Harvey got us through some tough times. He helped me to not only accept our differences, but to live with how some of how my boyfriend saw me made me feel.

Truthfully, without Harvey, I would have left my boyfriend years before I did.

And when I finally did leave him, Harvey thought he would have me to himself.

It wasn’t as simple as he thought it would be. I fell for someone. I wanted to be with him, but he didn’t want to be with me. My heart was broken.

Harvey had never seen me so depressed. It made him question how much I loved him.

The longer I held onto my feelings for this man without being able to be with him, the more Harvey doubted my dedication to him.

He tried to help me get over the pain, but I was devastated. I wanted to shut down and close everyone out.

He took me on a vacation. At first I said I wouldn’t go. I told him I wouldn’t take his money. He said he paid with points. We went to a three star all you can eat and drink resort. He wanted to make love in the ocean. I wanted to get drunk and drowned.

On our second last night, he got drunk and told me I needed to grow up. He said I was acting like someone had died.

I’d never seen him so upset about my feelings for another. From the beginning, when I was a teen, Harvey encouraged me to fall in love with boys my own age. He said he couldn’t give me everything I deserved because he was married.

“Is that what this is?” He asked. “Are you finally putting it all on the line to get me to leave Mary Elizabeth?”

It made me laugh when he said his wife’s name like that. He thought I was laughing at him.

Harvey pushed me out of our room and locked the door. I slept in the hall with my back resting against the door.

In the morning, he begged me to forgive him, and I did, but things were not the same between us after I saw that he was capable of violence.

Thankfully, when we got back, Harvey had his hands full with his wife as she struggled to deal with their oldest daughter dropping out of college and moving back into the family home.

Mary was not impressed. Just as she was getting used to having the house all to herself, she had to share again. She’d been sharing for years. She thought she had put in her time as a mother.

I was left to heal my broken heart alone – something I had never done in my life.

Harvey had helped me through the grief of my own family issues, and every other heartbreak.

I had no idea where to begin.

twin flame love, a letter

to love and lose

My dearest twin flame,

Hi.

It feels like we haven’t had a serious conversation in years, but that’s maybe bc we only speak in dreams.

I want to thank you for all you’ve done. Each way you’ve helped me grow. For holding my hand as I got stronger in navigating an abusive relationship I couldn’t fully cut off.

I loved you in such a crazy intense full way, I actually thought we were meant to be – despite the fact that most of the concrete signs pointed to no.

I just wanted it so bad, but I was also terrified of it coming true.

You were the first man I loved after my marriage broke up. You were the first man I wanted to love me in a very long time.

It took me a long time to let go of the hope that we were meant to be. You know I was going through a terrifying and traumatic time. I needed you. And there were ways you took care of me.

But there were ways you didn’t take care of me.

I finally know that even though I have loved you, we are not meant to be.

I’m saying goodbye.

And if we run into each other in the future – near or far – it’s okay to pretend nothing happened. It’s okay to do whatever is comfortable for you.

I pray your life is filled with love and joy. I pray your every need is met. I pray for you to know and love yourself as deeply and fully as God wills.

Don’t let anything get in the way of following your divine path.

Jenn