It had been six years, 115 days and eight hours since I took a personal oath of silence. Since I decided that I would be a victor instead of a victim.

There had been a deep-rooted tree whose branches didn’t begin to show until recently when I decided the silence abused the soul and confused the mind. My silence had given power to a beast that didn’t deserve an audience, yet there I was sitting front row too afraid to leave.

Absent of the realization that I had both, a father and brother who were great examples of the black male, I allowed you to taint my view of those born to protect me. Your lust for satisfaction and my denial of approval never was an invitation to encounter the flower of my pride. For six years, 115 days and eight hours I blamed myself. I believed that I put myself in the situation that leads to the procrastination and confusion that plagued my mind as if the meaning of NO had been changed to yes or maybe, making the experience a consequential excuse for the actions that would follow.

I swore to myself that I would be victorious, that I would not play the victim that I didn’t need help, no one needed to know, that I would get revenge by being successful. While my heart seemed to be in the right place, my soul begged to testify and it was a service that I denied was needed. I threw myself into work and school, always on the move. As long as I was moving around being a victor, at work, school, church etc., I did not have to deal with the screams from my soul. For six years, 115 days and eight hours marijuana was my medicine, creating a numbing high that I began to believe I worked better with, that made me less of a victim not noticing that those who were true Victors didn’t need a supplement.

For six years, 115 days and eight hours I made my life an excuse for the denial of rape and 24 hours ago I came to the realization that for six years, 115 days and eight hours I played the victim and it wasn’t until I let go, it wasn’t until I told my parents, it wasn’t until I asked God to help me forgive myself, it wasn’t until 24 hours ago that I actually became the victor.

From this point on, I declare and decree that I will no longer give the beast a voice, for I know that his strength is gained in silence. Snitches don’t get stitches in this story, they gain freedom from years of oppression and slaughter a beast who fed on the silence of burdened souls and broken spirits. From this point on, I will be victorious and allow the victim be a testimony.