They Were Going to Murder Me…
And Yet My Fat, Black, Disabled, Ass, Survived…Now it’s On
Missing, and Murdered Indigenous Women. MMIW.
You’ve heard the chants, you’ve seen the protests, but maybe like me, you haven’t had a conversation about what it means to have been very nearly murdered, because that’s probably not your experience.
But it’s mine.
I am neither missing nor murdered, and I am also not indigenous, but I was very close to being two out of the three, and now on the other side of that, I can honestly say dying at this point would have pissed me off.
On April 10th, 2024, I went out with my girlfriends and had the time of my life at music bingo. If you listened to my abusers from 30 years ago, you’d believe that shouldn’t have been possible.
I was supposed to die last night. Again.
The first time I died was when I was raped at fifteen. I felt my soul leave my body, and I knew in that moment I was changed forever.
A few years ago, after a lot of screaming, yelling, and fighting for my freedom, I realized what had happened to me, while simultaneously telling the world that I was not okay.
A very small group of people, from around the world chose to listen to me, and it’s only because of them that I am alive today.
I used the internet the way most people use rope and bombs. I survived because I set up a safety net over the years, that would protect myself, I made friends from NYC to Istanbul, and I love every single one of them because I genuinely believe that because of them, I have a second chance at life.
That isn’t to say that I will suddenly change who I am. I’m still a fucking bitch, and I’ll tell you to your face when you’re fucking up. If you hit me, you better hope you kill me because I won’t stop until I’m sure I’m safe.
I am powerful, wise, and strong. The three things that the little girl who I used to be, always wanted to be. I am the Black woman smoking on the corner, an image that has never been seen by my eyes before. I am the Black woman making space for other marginalized people in my world.
I am the Loud Mouth Brown Girl, designed and built by abuse, to be a victim, transformed into the victor.
I survived years of abuse, only to get to this place where I can finally say I fucking told you, it gets better.
I can’t say that I feel relieved saying those words because before it got better, I lost a lot of people I genuinely needed in my life, people I kept barriers up against because I was so afraid of what it would mean if I let them in.
I spent most of my life afraid of having deep connections with people because every time I tried they inevitably disappointed me in large often violent ways.
I am tired of violence, but I’ll take it if it means I get more of this. I’ll fight for the rest of my days if it means that I get to be at peace in my private time because I am soaking this up the way that flowers soak up the sun.
Every single person on earth deserves the kind of peace that I have, but most choose violence because violence and viciousness mean they get to be comfortable stomping on everyone else.
That’s never who I wanted to be, but I’ve been that person. It felt good for a minute until I looked around and realized that I’d stomped on all the people I thought would help me when I needed them most.
In my most afraid moments, I was alone, and my insanity is what kept me alive back then, friendship and a desire to watch what happens live, kept me going afterward.
I’ve watched a lot of men, women, non-binary and trans human beings rise, and fall. I’ve seen Popes come and go. I’ve seen a Queen die, and a King rise in her place.
I’ve seen shit I never thought I would ever have to see. When I was a child I wanted to be a historian. I wanted to be one of the few architects of history to prove that Jesus really did walk the earth.
Instead my education and my dreams were put on hold by vampires who fed on me the same way you see them do it in the movies, and worse.
They killed me.
I died.
Not a part of me. All of me.
Died.
Because men couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. I don’t want your fucking apologies, I want your anger. I want your rage, I want vengeance.
I want you to remember women at the polls.
I want you to remember children at the polls.
I want you to remember LGBTQ2S+NB people at the polls.
I want you to remember that your vote can change an entire timeline for a generation of people and that is power. I want you to remember that your voice contains the kinds of powers that we accuse Gods of having.
YOU just have to be willing to use it, if I die tomorrow, that’s what I want, that’s my legacy. Now and forever.
Sending all my love,
Devon J Hall, The Loud Mouth Brown Girl
