New Beginnings

Emotional roller-coaster of love and lust

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Sometimes…sometimes…sometimes when you can’t say it. When words escape and you need to let it out, somehow music comes to help. Lyrics that speak so true, you can almost remember writing them yourself in your dreams. Tonight I have no words, but I have this song. This song is me. The piano so beautiful, soulful, sad. The words…so applicable so beautiful and innocent. A song about my soul with sound that no words can express. I have become something I can’t express anymore


You are what they call the human season

You are all the alphabet in one
You are every colour of confusion
You are all the silence I’ve become

Love me for
Stupid reasons
I like those most

Wide-eyed but
Worth believing
God knows

Damn the angry voice that keeps us quiet
The editor whose work is never done
Keeping pretty words between my teeth and
Sweet confessions underneath my tongue

Drowsy contemplation
Do I let you in
This is my invitation
But how do I begin?

She has such an awful lot of soldiers
Quite a lovely army all her own
Night and day they stand before the fortress
Very safe but very all alone


Before 2016

I know 2017 has already started in some parts of the world, but for me it’s still 7 hours away. I’m not going out tonight, in fact I’ve started to enjoy my own company. I listen to my audio books, play games on my xbox (yes, I’m a gamer chick), watch a movie or go for long walks. I love walks enveloped by fog. Makes the world seem mysterious and exciting. Adventure waiting around every bend. It’s the things I don’t see coming, good or bad,  that injects my life with surprises!

And off course, I love writing on my blog. It’s liberating to have a release. To put thoughts on paper and share them. The thoughts I tend to struggle with and that I want to pour out of me, are the negative ones. Hence why my blog can appear to be centered around hurt, pain, unhappiness.

Now, looking back at 2016 it’s almost too easy to get caught up in the negative happenings this year. I’m an optimist by nature, a glass half full kind of person. I’ve been called many bad things this year, by one person in particular, This one person was my lifeline at times, but also the biggest trigger that pushed me into a dark depression again; not once but twice this year.

As an only child, I’m extremely independent and also a bit of a perfectionist. I am my biggest critic. I have spent many hours trying to understand how I let the events of this year affect me in such a myriad of ways. How my emotions became so unstable, like a small little sailboat, in the middle of the ocean, with no way of fighting the storms and winds that hit me. Yes, the sun shone and there were peace at times, but the storm always returned.

Looking inside with the help of meditation and desperate to find answers, I looked at my timeline and realised that I was a ticking bomb that exploded in 2016.

1987 – 1992 high school.  I was bullied and very much a loner. I was content though. I would much rather read than go out. I devoured books. Any topic, fiction, non-fiction. I had and still have such a wide range of interests. I had many dreams and decided to study medicine.

1993 – 1997 university. My dreams of becoming a doctor didn’t work out. I discovered freedom and the social joys of being a student. Far away from home where nobody knew me; I could be myself without any pre-existing opinions and judgments from my fellow students. I studied microbiology instead.

The turning point came when I was raped. A large part of my hopes and dreams of meeting a special man and having a happily married life and children, changed that day. I had only discovered boys shortly before I was raped. I had my first kiss when I was 19.

In 1996 I met my first husband, two years after my rape. I fell in love. It happened fast. So quick. I thought, this is it. I wanted to be loved and he definitely obliged. He was a gentle man. For a year or two everything was great. It was a long distance relationship.

1998 – 2004 My first husband proposed in 1999 when we finally started living in the same town. At this point I had started working already and was a manager with a lot of potential to climb even higher on the corporate ladder. I ended up in finance as work in microbiology was scarce at that point in time. My then fiance, was freshly out of university. We had grown at different speeds and in different ways. My intuition told me that we were no longer that perfect match I thought we were, but I kept ignoring it. My body must have tried to warn me too as I started having panic attacks. Pretty severe ones. For no apparent reason. I thought the rape was well behind me. I was embarking on a new life. I was doing very well career wise. What is causing this?

We were married in 2000 and divorced in 2001. I was on anti depressants. I had also met someone at work that I was very attracted to. So I went straight from a failed marriage into an affair. It was very physical. Not a lot of emotional ties there. Not a lot in common. I guess in hindsight, your typical rebound. I was having fun I thought.

2006 – 2015 baby years. In 2006 I fell pregnant and we decided to get married. I was three months pregnant when I said “I do” for the second time. High on pregnancy hormones and dreams of a little baby, I was happy. I never thought I could get pregnant. Then the birth. It was like being raped again. The way I was physically hurt, it hurt me in almost exactly the same way I was hurt before. Nothing could prepare me for this. How was I to know that childbirth would rewind my body back to the darkest period of my life.

It took about a month for my maternal instinct to kick in. I was too hurt and scared. But when it did, I was right as rain, I thought. The next 8 years was dedicated to my daughter. I gave her all my love, attention, time, energy. My husband did the same. We drifted apart. We hardly spent any time alone. We were exhausted. We lost each other. We couldn’t have sex. We had so little in common, apart from our daughter, that “conversations” were either disagreements or sitting next to each other on our phones.

At the end of 2015 I remembered that I was a person. I had needs. So many. I neglected my emotional needs to the point where I didn’t even know I had emotions or desires. I didn’t know who I was. All I knew was that I was more than just a mother






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Once again sleep stays away. I decided to get up, read a bit…Came across a blog post from a rape victim, like myself. How many nights I’ve woken up from dreamless sleep, but wanting to scream. Fighting to wake up, breathing heavily. Feeling paralyzed, unable to do what I so desperately want to. I can never scream. I can’t make a sound.  All I know, as I’m waking up, is that I want to scream. It’s a strange feeling. Helpless, unable to let it out.

I often wonder if it’s an attempt to do what I couldn’t, so many years ago. Reading this lady’s post, I relived it with her. The experience, the paralyzing fear that prevents you from doing a thing. The feeling  of leaving your body. The “this is not happening to me right now” thoughts. Denial, yet, the unmistakable awareness of being violated.

She also has “gaps” in her recollection. Time stood still and as I was intoxicated as well. There are moments I will never remember. The silent screams, stuck in my throat, the agonizing thoughts of wanting to die, but at the same time, wanting to live.  I wonder if he thinks about it? I wonder if he has a family, children, daughters.

She went to her friends’ house. I went back to my room. She called the authorities, I was too ashamed. She shared the burden, I kept it secret. She said something that I realised I did as well. She convinced herself, it didn’t happen. I did this so well, it’s the only way I coped. I was alone, broken, abused, lost identity. Broken winged, scarred soul.

It’s difficult to explain to someone how you feel after an experience like this. How profound the effects are. My silent screams still haunt me when I try to sleep. I wonder if my subconscious still battles with him. Trying new ways of stopping it from happening. Figuring out a way that I can have my special moment with that special someone. When I feel hopeless, unloved, unwanted, I sometimes think it’s because of this. I’m too broken to be loved or wanted.

He never watched my face. I was raped from behind. My face pressed into his hand on my mouth. And today, this is the way I like it. I can’t look into another’s eyes. I hide my pleasure and pain. It’s too intimate, too revealing.

There are certain events that stays with you. That shapes you into the person you become. The events you have no control over, are the ones that stays the longest. But tonight, I want to stop trying to control it. Especially as that moment has passed. It can never be controlled, changed or be different. It is what it is, was what it was.  Maybe this is the secret to getting over it. Finally realising there is nothing you can do to change it. No amount of crying. No amount of anger. The anger with life for dealing you this card. No amount of writing, telling, reliving, silent screaming. Nothing can change it, therefore, let it go. Free myself from this memory, from the negativity that seeps into my life when I feel sorry for myself.   Is this the secret?

I am beautiful, even though something ugly and vile happened to me. I am worthy of being treated like more than a body, even when it’s all I feel I am worth. I can make love, even though my first experience was not born from love, but hate.

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It’s dark, it’s cold

I feel his heavy breathing on my back

I can’t breath, I am suffocating

I want it to stop…please god make it stop


I’m being torn to pieces

There is nothing I can do, nothing

My mind’s a blank, my body violated

Is this real?



It stops, I lie on the ground

Move your legs, get up

I struggle home, tears running down my face

Blood and fluids running down my legs


I lost my innocence, I am no more

I let the water run over my body

It washes the evidence away

Traces of him and me disappear down the drain


I try to sleep, I can’t

I sob, I cry, I want to rewind the clock

I’m alone, I’m ashamed

I deserve this, I know it


Days go by, years go by

I keep my secret…it’s mine alone

I am alone in that place of my mind

I never share myself and truly connect


Then twenty years go by

I connect with a man, a dangerous man

It’s new, It’s exciting

He promises me the moon and stars


I open up, I tell him my secret

He pretends to care, he tells me no man will hurt me again

I believe him, I trust him

I feel better sharing my secret


My mind has been opened

Maybe this is love

No…he rapes me, emotionally rapes me


My body and soul, both raped

Nothing hurts like this





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Just when I think…

I’m OK

No, I’m not. It hurts. It really does. When you get badly hurt, and I mean broken hurt, it’s not easy to see past the hurt. I have good days, or maybe hours, and then it will just hit me. An awful sense of melancholy. Why am I so weak?

My introduction to sex was a traumatic one. It has repercussions.  I never had therapy, in fact I kept it a secret from everyone accept my best friend at the time. I felt too ashamed and I didn’t want anyone to know that I was now damaged goods.  My first boyfriend, a year after I was raped, was a really gentle and kind boy. I thought I would struggle to have sex with him, but in fact, I couldn’t sleep with him quick enough. I already thought that this would be the way to keep him attached to me. After 5 years we got married. Little did I know that unresolved, hidden and denied events can leave scars you don’t know about until your are in the wrong situation, like feeling trapped. On my honeymoon I had my first panic attack. I couldn’t have sex with him. I faked illness and we cut the honeymoon short from a week to only two days. I could literally not breath. I needed to go home.

It  is no surprise that this marriage lasted one year. First divorce. It took about six months for the divorce to go through the courts, in which time I had two affairs. One with a man I worked with, the other with the man I’m married to today. My husband and I had a very sexual start to our relationship and I think it would have ended eventually, but I became pregnant and we decided to get married. Giving natural birth to our child broke me again…in the same place I was broken before. It’s difficult for me to say this, but I used to catch myself looking at her when she was a little baby and thinking, you took my womanhood away. I didn’t want to have sex. I didn’t want to ever have sex again. Thankfully, these thoughts toward my child stopped soon after she was born and I love my child more than life itself. I hope she will never have to go through what I have. Every girl dreams about her first time, who it will be, if he will love her, will it hurt?

This is when I became asexual. I had no sex. Simple as that. My husband accepted it and we  both just plodded along. To our friends and family we seemed happy. I think we even thought we were happy. Our child became our distraction and and we poured all our time and energy into her. She will be loved.

Maybe I’m still grieving for my virginity that was taken so wrongfully. Maybe I still mourn for that innocent girl that was violated and denied the joy of sharing her first encounter with a man that really loved her. Will the sadness ever go away. Will I ever feel whole again? Am I good enough to be loved for more than just my sex?






How did I get here?

If you’re going through hell, keep going – Winston Churchill

Oct 2015 this is when everything changed. I was happily married with no intentions of ever doing anything to jeopardize my marriage, but even the most solid relationships have acidic issues that can slowly erode the pillars that a relationship is built on.  Our biggest pitfall; sex. Yes, the drive that pulled us towards each other and that kept us going for many years, had slowly diminished to the point that once a year became the norm; then once every two years; then the long  drought of three years.

The Switch

The only way I can describe what happened next is ‘The Switch’. In reality it was a tipping point, but irrespective of that, a switch inside me was turned. I was rejected once too many times. My feelings for my husband was turned off, but a need to find and fulfill my needs were turned on. Little did I know that all my actions would have consequences, mostly emotional. I can honestly say that I was an emotionally stable person. I had many hobbies and kept busy all the time. I never had time to sit down for five minutes. I was confident and sure of myself.


I decided to find like minded individuals that would be interested in pure NSA sex. I wasn’t looking for a relationship, just physical gratification, or so I thought. I didn’t even think that I was emotionally deprived as well. How could I? You seldom realize what you’re lacking until it presents itself. I was hardly registered on one of these sites when a man sent me a message saying that we seem to be after the same thing. I viewed his profile and I found him attractive. So began my first affair with ‘Rich’. Mr Rich was just that, well off, very comfortable and ‘happily married’ but craving for passion. We started off emailing at first. I became very well versed in sexting, learning as I was going along. I’ve never experienced anything like it. Typing intimate messages to someone you have never met in real life. We booked a hotel room three weeks in advance and so the anticipation of it all started to build up. It was like a drug and I was high; all the time. It consumed my thoughts, my days, my nights. I started loosing weight. I couldn’t sleep anymore. I would get up at 4 am to chat with him. I would go for long walks so we could chat. I was so caught up in the moment. It was exhilarating and exciting and yes, sexually fulfilling. My husband didn’t know. He was on his phone, playing games or watching a movie or series. I would go upstairs early to be alone and he would think nothing of it. I felt so sexy and wanted. I thrived on it. I was losing weight so started to buy new clothes – sexy clothes and lingerie. I didn’t have any, but I wanted to be even more sexy. I took lots of photos for Mr Rich and he returned the favor. I became lost in the fantasy…

Collapse and Confessions

Early November Mr Rich started withdrawing. He was still having sex with his wife and guilt started to eat away at him. I wasn’t feeling any guilt, in fact, I was annoyed by his guilt. How could he just ‘switch off’ like that? Ultimately I had to cancel the hotel booking and everything came crashing down for the first time. I felt devastated, rejected and unwanted again. At this point my husband started noticing the changes. I went out a lot more. It is also on one of these nights that I had my first one night stand with a man 20 years my junior and the first sex in three years. I didn’t plan it, I was a bit drunk and things progressed so quickly. Years of pent up sexual frustration came exploding out of me. I enjoyed it so much and all I could think was, I wanted more.  Following the collapse of my affair with Mr Rich, I started confiding in friends, searching for answers. I also told my husband. I couldn’t lie to him and I wanted out. I tasted freedom and all I could think was, I wanted out. It was a huge shock to him and he became very depressed. I told him he changed too much to accommodate me over the years. He lost his identity just like I lost mine. I reminded him of all the times I asked him why he never touched me, why he never spoke to me anymore. We decided to be separated, but continued to live under the same roof.

Phone Sex

And so my pursuit for sexual gratification drove me to various ‘dating’ sites. Easy hook ups disguised as dating sites. I started talking to a younger man that introduced me to phone sex. I had never even thought of talking dirty to a man on the phone, but it didn’t take long before I was loving it. I loved his voice, like silk stroking my body with his words. I had never been so turned on. We started maybe talking once a week, but one week in November we had a marathon and spoke every night. I would lock myself in my bedroom or sit in my car, or when my husband went out, I would be downstairs in the living room. I couldn’t get enough and I developed feelings for him. He didn’t want to meet me, even though he was only an hour away. This upset me and because it didn’t make me feel wanted or good enough to have real sex with, I tried to sever ties with him. It wasn’t too difficult on that occasion as I  met my catfish in Nov.


This episode is the most painful and difficult to write about. I met two men on another site. My catfish and Mr Rocks (he is a singer in a band). Mr Rocks is a sweet man and I still have contact with him. We had sex once, but I couldn’t sleep with him again. Not because it was bad, in fact it was very good, but I felt it could ruin the greatness of the first time. I was in any case too busy with the catfish. He looked amazing (fake pictures), very attractive, nice age, and he wrote me love letters like no man has ever done before, or ever will I suspect. ‘Love’ like that can only exist in fantasy, but I was so naive. I hanged on every word he wrote me. And when he finally returned home, we spoke on the phone for hours. Not phone sex, just life and interests and passions. He told me he loved me beginning of December and even though logic told me this is not possible, I believed every word. I was so happy. He said he wanted to marry me, have children with me, take me on luxurious holidays, show me amazing places he had visited. Just your every day sociopath emotionally messing with his victim. I was blissfully unaware, until the day of our first meeting arrived. I went to the place we agreed to meet and waited. I’m proud of one thing in that I didn’t wait very long before I realized it’s not going to happen. I tried calling him, phone off. I tried again and again as my initial thoughts were, something happened to him. But nothing, no text, no call, nothing. I was absolutely devastated.  Reality came crashing down, and very hard. It wasn’t long before I felt anger. I took to my PC and wrote him a long email. What really hurt me most of all is that I told this man something that only a few people knew about me. When I was 19 and still a virgin, I was raped. Yes, my virginity was taken in the worst possible way.  This is another story for another day, but the fact remained I told him. His response was that he would never let another man hurt me again. So yes, I was angry! The email I sent was full of anger and disbelief at the way he stood me up without a word. That night I received an email from him with a long elaborate very detailed depiction of his visit to the emergency room. He also said that at long last he saw my true colors as I clearly have anger issues. I felt mortified. No logical thoughts that maybe he was lying, but no, I felt bad. I called him and the third time he picked up. I was so apologetic and felt so bad about the email I wrote him. He eventually forgave me and we spoke for hours. This was our thing, we could speak for hours and by hours I mean minimum two and up to four hours. So the affair continued, but now he couldn’t travel any time soon. I did have a period of doubt after this and I started researching things he had told me. For starters I couldn’t find his name or address online. Something seemed off, but by now I was so caught up in his lies and I so wanted him to be real, I started believing. Soon we arranged for our second meeting. He gave me his full address and that’s all we spoke about. What he was going to cook, what we were going to do etc. When I had his address, I decided to find out who lived there. It was Wednesday the 16th of December when I realized that it had all been a lie. It wasn’t his house. He didn’t live there. I confronted him via email, again very upset. I thought I was going to have a mental breakdown and my world once again came crashing down. This time I was emotionally raped. I cried every day till the end of December. I was grieving for the loss of a relationship with a fake man. A liar. A sociopath. I couldn’t trust my instincts again, I couldn’t trust any man again.