It was not what I was wearing. A burnt orange floor-length bridesmaid dress. It was nothing that I said. We barely spoke. I was not being a 'Prick Tease'. My only purpose that day was to ensure my best friend had the perfect day. I was not asking for it. So when he slapped my ass, twice, completely out of context, with zero consent, during their first dance it felt shameful. What had I done to deserve that?
I had sworn to myself the next guy that put his hands on me would catch my knuckles with his throat and my foot with his groin but this was her day. I would not be additional drama. I would not let my suffering spill into her day. I would hold it. I would keep it. I would not be a burden. I am strong. I am strong. I am a survivor.
I felt all the past trauma welling up inside me as if he had kicked a hornet's nest in my chest. As the final notes of "Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You" floated into the calm mountain air, the guests followed the bride and groom to their tables. I do not remember how I got to the bridal suite; only that I was hopeless before I entered. All the feelings were escaping through this wound he had opened.
Ever since my first trip to England, I have had had this intrusive thought that my only purpose is to be raped and abused. Normally, it takes a while for me to get there. A lot of other lesser negative thoughts. A hand-full of disappointments. Today, it was the front runner. He had shown me that I will never be loved the way the groom loves the bride. Even at a wedding, I am a toy; a plaything.
Somehow I found the strength to bandage the wound in my chest. To pull it together; not enough that I could read my wedding speech (something that in that moment I no longer believed) to a crowd of mostly strangers without reopening the wound. I felt like a disappointment but I could not let my father see me like that (He would be set to kill, maybe just seriously maim; was not worth the risk to find out.). I had to keep it together. I would not be a casualty. I am strong. I am a survivor.
This night, I realized how much these photos mean to me. They are not a joke or a hobby. Every time I have taken these photos, they have been a step in my recovery; a step towards healing from some trauma. Some things that are so innocent and 'mean no harm' can leave such deep marks. While I had opportunities the previous day on a hike, it did not feel necessary. There was no reason to take one. It was not until he broke me open that it felt necessary to shed my clothing, stretch my fingers into the air and positively reconnect to my environment; reclaim, cleanse my body (with the Bride's permission of course).