A long time has past since I’ve made a decision that I would no longer share any of my low moments here, but only to share the high points of my life. My tumblr would serve as a time travel to revisit my past feelings on certain moments in my lifetime. I wanted it to be a diary, I guess. Although I haven’t been posting recent accomplishments or great adventures on here, I’ve had countless of unbelievable experiences in the last year that I have neglected on sharing here. But I got a new phone, so now I’m trying to take more pictures and vlogs as a keepsake.
Anyway, the real reason why I’m back here is to share my reflection on a recent video I’ve watched. My sister and I love to watch this mukbanger. This mukbanger earlier had shared an intimate video on what had been occurring in the past few days for her. And in that video, she talk about being manipulated. It was a very serious topic, and at one point of the video I got really emotional. It triggered this same memory I have that always resurfaces whenever someone talks about that topic. And I wondered.. was I manipulated too?
As an activity we were to write down our deepest and darkest secret. They were written anonymously and later burned at the end of the day. I remember writing down my secret in a terrible handwriting so that it can never be traced back to me. Although this exercise was meant to be symbolic of letting go out your kept secret, I sure as hell didn’t want anyone to know. Not even my family knew about it. But I told this one person.
You wanted to know because we were in a type of relationship where we should be willing to be vunrable. I understood that, so I shared it with you. You were the first one that I shared it to. Looking back at it, your response made me feel like I was at fault for what happened, and that I could’ve done something to get out of it. And to this day, I still think about what you said to me. “Why didn’t you just say no?” “Why didn’t you just get out of there?” “Why didn’t you something about it?” Because of that, I blame myself for what happened. I know it was not my fault, but it is still so difficult to convince myself that. Maybe because of this incident, it took 10 years to tell the person im the most closest to about what happened.
That person handled it with comfort and understanding. But they are the last person to be let into my secret. You could have your assumptions, but don’t ask me about it because I will not be comfortable..