The Louder I Speak
A person stands facing the ocean with their arms stretched above their head, close to the place where water meets sand. They are wearing jeans, a white tank top, and have long dark hair.
By. Marissa Hughes
Content Warning: Sexual Assault
“There’s no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside of you”
-Maya Angelou
I’ve realized telling my story once did not ease my pain. But sharing it 20 times changed the trajectory of my life. Talking about sexual assault makes some of us uncomfortable, and it makes us sad. So typically, we avoid speaking on it. In writing about this topic, I know that it has been done a million and one times and will be written about a million more. To make change we must first learn to be comfortable with being uncomfortable. So, here is my uncomfortable story.
I hide in shame, afraid of judgment from the cruel world I live in; hoping that not speaking numbs this pain. On July 6, 2009, I could hear laughter right outside my window, children yelling happily for the arrival of the ice cream truck. I could smell freshly cut grass, dogs were barking at the sound of lawn mowers and trash trucks. It was a summer afternoon like any other. I decided to walk to the store, only by the time I left night had fallen. The moon seemed to shine brighter on this night than it ever had or maybe I hadn’t truly taken in its beauty before. The store was only two blocks away, but on the way back home the streets seemed to stretch for miles. I remember thinking the orangey hue from the street lights reminded me of a beautiful sunset. That moment faded quickly as a manly figure creeped from out of the shadows and instantly my stomach was in a knot. I knew something wasn’t right. I wanted to run but my feet felt glued to the pavement, as if quick sand had magically appeared. Despite my best efforts my brain and my feet no longer shared the same body. I began to sweat, nerves hit me like a piano had fallen from the sky like it does in cartoons. I clutched the bag of snacks I had just gotten from the store and closed my eyes for what seemed like a second, repeating to myself. “please, just let me get home, and I’ll never come out this late again.” But it was already too late, the manly figure was now right next to me with a gun pointed in my direction. I followed his instructions and for that I came out alive, but I still felt my life seeping right out of me. My 18th birthday was just a few days away. July 11th was the one day every year I looked forward to but after 2009 my birthday had just become a painful reminder.
My name is GPA, a 39 year old African American male. That has been in and out of jail for most of my life. In 1989 I was arrested for murder in the second degree. I did a few years in jail and was then released. I spent some more time in jail around 2006. On July 5, 2009, I kidnapped an 18 year old woman; on the 6th a 17 year old woman and then three more young ladies just days after that. Without second thought, with no regards for human life I changed these young women forever. For my actions I am now serving a Life sentence in prison.
Anthony’s actions changed me first for the worst. Anthony mad me an angry person, He made me a “drunk” at 18 years old. I hated myself. I even wanted to die. As a result, I carried that self-directed rage into my adulthood. Never feeling worthy of love, feeling like I’d forever be a victim instead of a survivor. I was in the worst kind of pain imaginable, and I was furious with god. I was in a crisis and it felt like there was no way out. I’d take a bath every day, and I’d soak for an hour, sometimes more. Trying to get that musky cologne off my skin, which seemed merely impossible. I blamed Anthony for all things that went wrong in my life and I knew I’d blame him for years to come. Of course, I couldn’t just stop being sad, but I knew that if I wanted to get better I had to forgive him. I wasn’t doing it for him, I was doing it for me. I was realizing that I was only hurting myself and giving him more power over me. I even wrote Anthony a letter in jail but of course I never sent it. I just needed to get all my feelings out before I forgave him. By forgiving him I was setting myself free from all the negative things that I’d put in my head.
Close up of a wooden and gold courtroom gavel.
What I didn’t know was that my case was going to trial and soon I was in court telling my story. There were four other girls testifying as well. I wasn’t allowed to speak to these four girls but I secretly needed them. Inside I cried for them, because I knew that what I was feeling was almost unbearable. I assumed that they had to be feeling the same way or worse. During this time, it seemed that my mother had vanished. She never went to court with me. I only made it to court dates because the police would pick me up from home, work or school. When I didn’t get a ride from the police a rape advocate would arrange and pay for a cab to drive me to the courthouse. At the courthouse there were three places a person could be: the courtroom, the hallway or the waiting room one would sit in if they were testifying. In that room there’d be the four girls and their mothers, and then there was me. I was a lonely, sad girl who was closing her heart, mind and soul. There seemed to be no one I mattered to so I felt there was no point in holding on to what little was left of me.
Going back to school after all of this was my worst fear. I felt that even without words everyone would know what happened to me over the summer. It was all over the news, so how could they not know? Marc Smith was a counselor at my school and he was the positivity I needed in my life. He was the father I was never granted as a child. More than anything he was both the guidance and friend that I so desperately needed. For some reason or another he saw something in me that I couldn’t understand at the time. Even when I didn’t have anything left to give myself he had my back. Without him, finishing high school wouldn’t have happened because I had completely given up on myself. Teachers and school staff don’t get enough credit for the attention students receive in the school’s care. School staff are almost the first to see the potential in a child. They know when the students are applying themselves and when they aren’t. Some of the staff can become attached to the children when they see something great in them, and that’s how Marc was with me. Overall, he has helped shape me into the woman I’ve become today. He showed me just how important my life truly was and that I survived that night because I still had to make my mark in this world.
Even though I hadn’t realized it the night I was in the trunk of a stranger’s car, Delaine was my best friend. He was the only person I called that night other than the police. He told my mother what was going on and that’s when the search for Marissa Hughes began. After that Delaine and I were inseparable, and I couldn’t live without him. When everyone else got tired of me being sad he was still there. When everyone was tired of me having panic attacks every time I tried to get out of the house, still he was there. He was patient and kind, no matter the time of day he granted my every wish. When everyone else stopped checking on me I was fine because he was all that I needed. Delaine was my greatest gift, a friendship I never doubted. I knew he’d go to hell and back for me, but our future was short lived when he passed away five years later. My world was falling apart all over again. I thought why must I keep suffering? What did I do to deserve such an unfulfilling life?
Although, these were tragic times for me I’ve learned a few things along the way. I didn’t wake up one day and everything was a field of roses, with the sunsetting in the most beautiful array of colors. It took a lot of work and dedication to Myself. Poetry has been a big part of my life. It’s helped me to express a lot of feelings that I couldn’t otherwise speak of. Outside of poetry I had no voice. So, I thought that if I spoke loud enough through my poetry I could reach more people but still not many could hear me. The more I learned to love myself the louder I became. I hadn’t gotten loud for sympathy, it was because I was ready to start a new chapter, I felt beautiful and it felt freeing. I often wondered if I would ever heal, and eventually I began to. I learned that beautiful people can go through some extremely ugly situations. Sometimes it feels like the storm is ever lasting but the rain shall stop eventually. I’ve taken the time to find out who I am, truly. I’ve realized what I wanted out of this life. I believe I am allowed to love again and to be loved back. That I too am deserving of all the beautiful things life has to offer. Through my experience I’ve learned that no matter how hard life gets today, there is always a chance for a better tomorrow, as long as we don’t give up before our storm ends.
“We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty”
-Maya Angelou
Today, I am 27 years young. I am a woman who still needs a bit of improvement, as I am still finding myself and making ways to become better. Although some days are still a struggle for me I have truly learned from my experiences, and I have become totally aware of my surroundings. I also attended a women’s cpl course, learning to protect yourself can feel really empowering. I live each day full of love and passion. I am truly a Survivor. I share my story as much as I can, because I feel better knowing that I’ve touched at least a few people. Not only women but men should be aware of sexual assault as well, in its entirety. Sometimes men are excluded from these types of conversations because it’s assumed they won’t understand or care.
Everyone has a story that deserves to be told, and you’ve made it to the middle of mine. I am here, talking about my past, while making new memories and finding my way in the world. I am a college student preparing to follow my dreams, dreams I thought I lost forever. I have applied the lessons I’ve learned by the way that I treat others, by the way that I love. Because at one time in my life I would not allow myself to love anyone. Opening my heart to others had become my biggest fear but by having an open mind for all situations, and for all kinds of people I realized everyone isn’t out to hurt me and that there are some amazing people in this world. The best people tend to come into our lives when we least expect it or at a time we are hurting the most.
I live everyday as gracefully as possible. There’s so much beauty in this life and I don’t want to miss any of it. So, I take a moment to indulge in all that life has to offer. Sometimes I go out by the water with a blanket and my journal. I lay in the grass and stare into the sky. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, I Smile. Because I know life is not measured by the amount of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away. Now when I write my poems have more meaning because I aim to uplift and empower people through my strength. I hold my head high and I stand with confidence. I’ve got to make every moment count because this is my new beginning. Now that I am proud of the woman I’ve become, I’ve learned “The louder I speak” the more people will hear me. So that no one forgets me or my story I am loud in the most beautiful and the most positive way. I Speak with hope that this world is as beautiful as I see it now and positivity that others may have compassion for those whom have dealt or dealing with such traumatic experiences. And because first impressions are everlasting.
“You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them”
-Maya Angelou
Marissa Hughes, born and raised in Detroit, Michigan. For years she has loved to write, but never felt like it was worthy of submission. Even today she has struggles with believing in the strength of her writing, but she believes heavily in the story she has to tell. If Marissa can touch at least one person with her work, she'll be forever happy.