When White Men Get Angry
The most vulnerable targeted victims never recover from it!
He beat me so bad that he couldn’t send me home looking like that, he kept me on base with him. He couldn’t have witnesses, how would he explain that? He didn’t even go home, he kept me for days while most of my injuries healed. He didn’t allow me out of the locked room he kept me in. He had one of his friends brought in to patch me up, he was a highly classified physician who always kept his secrets.
He was angry over something I had no control over. Something he “thought” may happen in the future. I was 7 years old, it was the middle of the mandated school day. I should have been learning coding like my classmates, instead, I was trapped in the bowels of a classified base with an obsessed sadistic pedophile psychopath trying to heal from the injuries he inflicted. My nose and breathing were never the same again. He wouldn’t fix them, “keep every memory to remind you not to disobey me. Think of them as tattoos” he used to say every time he inflicted malicious wounding like it was “parental discipline.” To this day, I still have problems, particularly on the left side of my face which sustained the most swelling. “We have to get that swelling down, don’t let her go to sleep” the doctor said.
He was in the habit of researching, analyzing, spying, surveilling, and stalking CONSTANTLY. He took obsession to unbelievable levels with unparalleled frequency. When he came across “intel” that looked like I might do something he disapproved of, or that looked like I might make a run for it, he punished me severely. It didn’t even matter if it was something an analyst said may happen, or a computer predicted may have the potential to occur far off in the distance. It didn’t matter if it was a dream he had, if he though it then it was true and accurate therefore I had to be punished for it. “Give her an inch she’ll take a mile” his mother kept telling him. The thought never occurred to them that is was their own behavior that would trigger me to buck their sadistic crony system. Not something inherently inborn because of the color of my skin. People aren’t born “inferior” or “victims” society creates the circumstances for predators to prey.
He grew up in a home watching his father beat his mother the same way. She never liked the idea of me being treated better than she was, certainly not by her son whom she had a sexual relationship with, even as an adult. She preferred children, but she also loved incest. But I was the one who considered “sick” for rejecting it. He always told himself he was “nothing” like his “father” yet here he was, beating me the same way. He didn’t even have the excuse of being an alcoholic, but he drank pretty heavily that day after he saw the damage he did. All because of distorted thinking and paranoia about jealousy over something that could potentially happen in the future. “the burden I bare is great, you need to accommodate me” was his always his directive. How wrong he was never came into play, “there is no alternative. To suggest an alternative is to suggest that I many be wrong and that can never happen” he always said. If was wrong for how he treated me, then there was the potential that he could be wrong about other things. So he simply denied my human rights and controlled me with brutality. That was show he raised me.
He wasn’t even my father, he was a man who wanted to live out a fantasy with a child so he literally took control over my life. He had the highest possible clearance, he literally created the revised classification system. He had full immunity, was empowered with un unlimited defense budget, had cronies in every corner of the globe, at every level of society, had oversight of the worlds most advanced weapons and tech. There was nothing he didn’t get away with. “You’re a victim of my ancestry” he always said. “It’s in my genes, I was born this way” was his excuse. He didn’t even allow me to heal before he raped me, I had to “learn to go with the punches” he said, pun intended.
He never left my side. Even when going to the bathroom he was right there, watching. I couldn’t breathe without him asking why I took such a deep breath and demanded to know what I was thinking as I did. Boundaries weren’t allowed, in any way. I had to be completely engulfed by him because that is what he desired. It offended him for me to not be “attracted” to him, and his insecurity ate away at him. He took the consequences of his arrested development out on me with absolutely no regard for how it affected me. He denied that there was any validity at all that it could be impacting me negatively.
“I matter, White men are considered to be worth more than 5 of anyone else. No one cares what happens here. No one will ever help you, your life is in my hands. No one will ever save you. The best thing you can do for yourself is surrender. You belong to me and there is nothing you can ever do to change that”. Those are the sick things I had to swallow, as I tried to heal from his beatings, repeatedly.
My face was so deformed I couldn't’ recognize it. I had already had a significant head injury, been in an explosion, knocked out more times than I could count, and strangled repeatedly by him. He had been warned many times that he couldn’t keep injuring me that way if he expected me to live, or to evade brain damage. He wanted control over everything, telling him that only gave him more ammunition to use against me. If it was a vulnerability or weakness of any kind, he was going to exploit it no matter the consequences. “I have no problem killing you, I just don’t want to live without you” he used to say. Taking a life meant nothing to him, it was “normal” he always said. “These people are already dead” he would say. What he couldn’t let go of was his sick attachment to me, my body, my mind, my life, everything to do with me. “I’ll die without you. If I don’t have you I have nothing.” That’s what I grew up hearing him say. When I told him “no more”, just a few short months ago, he died soon after. I guess he manifested his own end.
As I looked in the mirror that day, in so much pain I couldn’t cry, having to hold all of my fear, emotion, and pain inside. Looking at the swelling in my eyes, my nose, my cheeks, my lips, the bruising around my neck, eyes so swollen I couldn’t open them all the way. I was in so much pain, the most I had ever experienced in my life. Every inch of my body throbbed, it was like I had a heart beat everywhere and every time blood pumped through me it triggered a pain response equivalent to a 20 on a scale from 1–10. I watched tears drop out of my swollen eyes, slowly rolling down my giant cheeks, even triggering pain in the skin. I realized that there was no way I would ever survive him if I didn’t learn to outthink him. I made a promise to myself that I would NEVER FOGRGET that moment. The pain, the swelling, the throbbing, the dehumanization, the powerlessness, the fear. I knew I had only seconds to act because he would be walking through that door. I looked in the mirror, directly at the tiny bit of one eye that was visible and spoke in my heart, “never again, no matter how long it takes I will figure out how to break free. I will never allow him to take my life from me”.
As soon as the thought passed through my mind, he came in terrified I might be creating some sort of boundary. “What are you doing” he demanded. “Looking at my deformed face” I said but couldn’t speak without breaking down and crying. “Ouch” I cried out, getting dizzy and light headed. “Stop this, you can’t go to sleep” he said angry because he knew I was hiding something. It was my own private, personal thoughts that I kept to myself, but to him that was forbidden. “But I’m so tired” I said.
When I woke up, the door to the bathroom was being removed and his friend was at my bed working on my face. “I’ve given her something to get the swelling down, and something for pain. It’s going to take a few weeks before she’s out of the woods. It’s not safe for her to be moved or be upset. She must be kept calm, we’ll give her something to keep her relaxed” he said. “Are you going to be able to keep your cool? She can’t take any more of this” the doctor asked. “I’ll be fine” he said, “this won’t happen again”. Of course it did, just not while I was healing from that beating. He was never looked at as anything other than a “good man” who “loved his family” and “his country”. No one ever considered that treating me like a thing to be abused daily made him anything but good, he always laughed at that. “I’m not good, I’m very bad and I LOVE it!” He used say, there truly is no excuse for anyone who watched and did nothing. No excuse whatsoever.
He didn’t work, for days he sat there watching me as I laid there in bed. In and out of pain as the doctor came in and out administering meds. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect it to go this far” he said. But he never did. He was always “loosing his temper” and “overreacting” but it was always me suffering the consequences. “I’ll get help” he said. “I love you, I don’t want to lose you.” But I was just 7 years old and he was not my boyfriend or husband even though he acted like it. “Age is just a number” he always said. This was a was a grown man living out a sick pedophile fantasy that I couldn’t escape. No one cared. I was well aware that what was happening was not only sick but highly irrational. Why wasn’t he? Why wasn’t anyone else? I was the kid in the scenario, why was I the only one expected to be an adult?
“I won’t let myself lose control again” he said, but that didn’t stop him from molesting me. “You need this to make you feel better” he said. Everything centered on his pathology, my health never mattered unless it meant he would get caught. “Not getting caught” was his religion, so that was the only thing that gave him pause. I suffered so many incidents such as this, my entire life. As though I was born in the bowels of hell, that’s certainly how I have always described it. People will look at me, hear my experiences, and still find a way to blame me for it yet never have anything to say about him or those who covered for and supported him. “What did you do to make him angry” people have said. It’s not only disgusting, it’s insanity. But I’m expected to accept this as my “lot in life” because he and his sick cronies said this was how it should be.
When there is no transparency, oversight, or accountability, education, prevention, or intervention, these are the circumstances you breed. When there is no protection of human rights, particularly for the most marginalized populations, these are the situations you support, uphold, ignore, create. When life is dehumanized, politicized, and marginalized to the extent that crimes against nature are “forgiven” because people don’t want to “ruin a man’s life” over being held accountable, these are the consequences you create for others. Instead of protection, we get more abuse, not only from the deviant but all those who support them by turning their heads or defending them. When there isn’t even a way to vote for legislation that would one day protect me from such predation, there is no hope. When there is no hope, there is no equality. When there is no equality, there is no democracy. When there is no democracy, there is no humanity. Why would ANYONE want to live this? Why would ANYONE accept this?
I wasn’t his chosen favorite. He would have preferred, did prefer, a little blond haired blue eyed White girl from an elite family. This I grew up hearing constantly. “I can’t take you everywhere! You won’t be accepted!” He would get angry at me for his own cronies racist behaviors, but that was a blessing for me. I didn’t want that life, I wanted freedom. He had access to them, but their families could potentially create trouble at some point down the line by way of blackmail. He had the experiences, but sparingly for that reason. I watched people come to him asking him if he would take their children, “they are the ones begging me” he used to say when I asked how he could do it. “I’m doing them a favor!” That was not only his thinking, but the thinking of all those in his circle, there are many of them. Blackmail was how he lived so he assumed the same would be done to him and he was correct about that. I saw it happen every day of my life growing up. I was the “perfect victim” in the sense that I was so extremely vulnerable and there were no protections with the law simply because no one cared to pursue it. He could prey in any way, shape, or form, and NOTHING would EVER happen to him. Nothing every did.
When I reached out for help, I didn’t “look” like the “perfect victim” so no one cared. It gave him more power, authority, and incentive to keep going harder. I watched him grow from a man who was curious about sick, sadistic, fantasies and whether or not he could get away with them to a man who became one of the most prolific abusers on the face of the planet. You can’t count how many persons he has abused, harmed, or even killed. No one knows how many there are, no one ever stopped him, few ever even made an attempt. Everyone assumed that he would just continue to target the “invisibles” of society, little poor, Black girls who’s actual fathers were off on a mission somewhere, or sick in his bed because he couldn’t get veterans benefits. I was an easy target because he had full access and total control. When he couldn’t obtain his preference, he simply rearranged the world to make them more accessible.
He engineered rape culture to benefit he and his cronies. He sold the idea globally and the wealthiest, sickest people purchased his services like he was selling the “holy grail”. I watched him twist the world into what it is today, yet his is STILL protected. He’s not even alive but his memory is more important than the lives of those he abused. When you fail to hold deviants accountable, this is the world you create. One where predators are free to prey, with free reign, while their prey are punished just for surviving. “It costs more to repair the harm done to the victim than it does for the perpetrator to prey. Besides, victims are the ones who create victims, and usually those are women”. That’s what he claimed. But I’m the one called “mentally unstable”? What about those who believe such things? Those who act on those beliefs? Those who fail to hold these predators accountable? I fought it, the whole step of the way. What would you do? What have you done? You can’t even accept the truth of it happening without getting offended, but I’m the one who needs to step down, be silenced, be muted, be censored, be quiet?
It’s 1.21.22 and I’m still not considered human. I can’t even get COVID relief or social security to help me survive the trauma HE caused me intentionally. Sometimes I don’t even have access to food even though I spent my life serving this country, it’s insane. My parents went through the same things! But I’m the “taker” undeserving of aid and relief? I wouldn’t need it if the U.S. government would simply honor my contract and pay me what it owes me. At the very least underact my education which would allow me to earn the income I need to take care of my family. Instead, I’m still treated like a modern day slave and I’m expected to “comply” with this in every way. I always have been. In 46 years, nothing has changed. In 60 years nothing has changed. But I’m supposed to “obey” anyway, ignoring my own inalienable and human rights? As President Joe Biden ignores the tools available to him to help bring about positive change that protects the home land, those of us who have been targets of predation and exploitations not only for decades but generation continue to suffer and die without ever receiving justice, acknowledgement, or reparation.
It’s been decades, and I’m still healing bruises because no one stopped him from committing crimes against nature and humanity! No one provided the help I needed to get safe.
Democracy, equality, safety for whom? Where can I find it?
UN Human Rights UN Women Amnesty International UNICEF World Health Organization CDC Flu U.S. Department of State The White House Congressional Black Caucus Progressive Caucus Library of Congress TIME Nat Geo Explorers
