Page 32 of Lost In London

Whenever she asked questions, hard uncomfortable questions, she’d sit patiently waiting for me to answer. Sometimes it took me days to finally find the words to answer back in truth and honesty. She never rushed me but gave me plenty of space and time to feel, think, and then speak. We weren’t moving on to another topic of conversation until we finished whatever we talked about.

“I was twelve or thirteen the first time I felt unsafe. My daddy was traveling with my Uncle Kirk at the time. His record label, RLD was picking up a lot of business and they often traveled together to scout new talent.” My throat began to burn as I drilled a hole in the table. Rubbing my hands on my thighs in circles, slightly rocking.

It kinda soothed me to rehash the memory.

“Anyway, we were in Mississippi at my Aunt Jackie’s house, Landon and I. Spending a month with my mother’s sister. Aunt Jackie has three sons and one of her sons wanted to explore his newfound sexual curiosity using my adolescent anatomy. I spent that entire month fighting him off me. Some battles I didn’t win.I told Landon what he was doing and he confronted him but was told that I was lying. My daddy had called to check on us and I told him I wanted to go home. Told him very vaguely that I was being mistreated but then Landon got on the phone and said I was just acting like a spoiled brat. He didn’t want to leave because he was having too much fun kissing behind the shed with the girl from next door and shooting Aunt Jackie’s gun when her boyfriend took the boys hunting.”

Glancing over at her, waiting patiently and giving me a comforting smile, I tried to tell it all without having to give a detailed painted description of what happened.

Clearing my throat and rotating my neck, I found an usual amount of strength to keep going. “Yeah, so…” Blinking away the moisture in my eyes, twisting my mouth and shaking my head, letting my emotions know that we can’t at this moment.

“My mom finally came to get us and I told her what happened. Instead of cursing her sister out for having such a perverted son, she spanked me for being fast.” I chuckled bitterly. “It was my fault because I should know better. How am I supposed to know better when I told what happened and everyone blamed me? It was pushed under the rug and no one ever said a thing and I was threatened not to either.” My mind drifted back to today’s sermon.

Bishop held no punches with his “Who Do You Answer To?” sermon. As high up in the church I sat it felt like his words and eyes were searing down to the depths of my soul.

Do you answer to your fears, worries, and doubts?

Do you answer to the people who victimized you?

Do you answer to the pain, suffering, and depression?

If you aren’t answering to God, who allowed you to survive out of the situation then everything else has reign over your life.

Reaching across the table, she squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry for the hurt you’ve endured, London. I really am.” Our waitress returned with our food and instead of letting my hand go, she continued to hold on to it until we were alone again and she blessed our food.

“One thing that I hope you’re learning is that you need to put yourself first and forget about everybody else second.” She bit into her steak, humming her appreciation of its tenderness. “Every week I’m questioned about my activities outside of the church and inside of it. Other grown women have the audacity to tell me what they feel I need to do as First Lady.” She snorted, biting into a buttered roll. “First of all, my husband is the pastor, not me. Yes, I’m his wife and that makes me the First and only Lady, but what that does not include is for me to jump or do what others feel I should because it’s the right thing in their eyes.

“It was my choice to stay by my husband’s side when God called him to ministry. It’s my choice to sit wherever I want to in his church. It’s my choice to go to brunch after service instead of sitting in meetings that have nothing to do with me. It’s my choice. At the end of the day, I choose how I want others to treat me, and what I mean by that is I choose to deal with certain situations and certain people based on how they will serve me. I’m a part of the women’s group but I’m not leading it because some days I don’t feel like being bothered and on others I do. Truthfully, I can’t stand being around a large group of women. I’ve never been one who enjoys being around a lot of people. That hasn’t changed. I make the decision where my time and effort go. What I’m trying to say is don’t let anyone make choices for you and that means your family too.”

I completely understood what she said.

For a year now, Cassian has been the biggest advocate of living in his truth and what it means to say ‘fuck them’ and mean it. Outside of his brothers and kids, every choice he makes is about him and what he wants to do. All the time he asks me what I want to do, what I want to eat, and where I want to go. That may not seem important to some but it’s everything when you’ve been a people pleaser all your life.

Every day he gives me space and the opportunity to choose me and what I want to do. Never forcing me. Never showing his disappointment when I want to be selfish. This lesson I understood because Cassian was already forcing me to live it every day.

“I’m quick to yell ‘F’ these people and go on about my business. Be sensitive to who you allow into your space, London. Not everyone deserves access to you. Not everyone deserves to even be in the same space as you. That’s not you being cocky or stuck up. That’s you being your biggest advocate and protecting your heart and space because if you don’t then who will? Who will love you like you love you? No one. You can’t make people do right by you but you can decide how often they do you wrong.” Taking the rest of her wine to the head, she cleared her glass. “Anyway, what else is going on in your world?”

Smirking, I could only think of one thing to mention. “I kissed Olena.” It’s funny how in college my friends and I would joke around about kissing girls, telling guys we didn’t want to talk to that we were lovers so they’d leave us alone. Now that I was in a relationship with a woman, a beautiful woman at that, I didn’t see the thrill of it anymore as the days went on.

At first, it was exciting to finally be in a relationship to get the attention, affection, and love that never left but came back full force after my assault with Elgin. After that traumatic experience, I expected all hope and wants of love to become dormant or disappear.

Sadly, no.

My urges were urgent and I didn’t understand why.

Outside of Cassian, Aziza was the only other person that knew the story behind that situation. “Isn’t that part of this experiment that you’re doing?”

I didn’t get it.

“Why does everyone keep saying that?”

So what if it was the truth? Why did people have to call me out on my shit? Ever since Quincey opened his mouth about it it's like everyone followed in his steps.

Fork lifted and brow raised, she challenged me. “Can you honestly say you like her like that? She kissed you but you’re not glowing about it. Has the realization that you’re full of shit sunken in?”

Well, damn.

Tell me how you really feel.

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