FROM THE NORM TO THE MARGIN

First steps in hell.

At the time, he appeared to be handsome, with broad shoulders and a look that made me want to hug him. My maternal side couldn't take it anymore. I was not happy about it.He seems to have been hurt by life. He tells me about the death of his father when he was thirteen. He tells me about his mother and brother who relied on him. He took on an adult role before his time. And here I am looking at him with admiration, respect and tenderness. I want to make his life more beautiful, more gentle. I, who have never really experienced a trial as he often points out to me. Very often. Too often. As if to make me feel guilty about it. Also. Sitting in front of the glittering ocean, my refuge, I put off remembering. I am too comfortable in the present. I already know that the past is painful. I'm not sure I can face it and move on. I have fallen so many times. I've had to get up so many times. Do I still have enough strength for this?Time stands still if I don't move. It's like lying in bed and putting off getting up. But there is always a moment when you have to move. So I'm going to get up and do something about it, no more procrastination. First kiss ,on my initiative as he sends me plenty of signals but doesn't act on them. In hindsight, I understand that this is his modus operandi. "I didn't do anything, I didn't ask for anything. You took the initiative. I'm not responsible."Very quickly, he convinces me to have my first time with him. It's an August afternoon in the south of France, under our tent. We undress. I turn my back to him. I am extremely embarrassed, the body is sacred to me. I lie down, he lies on top of me. My throat tightens. He tells me that if I don't make an effort he won't get anywhere. He seems to know what he is talking about. Maybe I'm not capable of having sex? Maybe I'm not normal. I have to do my best. I can do it. When he's done with his business, he gets up, gets dressed and tells me to do the same because the people who are on holiday with us will think it's strange if we don't come back. With that, he leaves, leaving me alone with my doubts. It didn't happen the way I read about it in the books. Am I frigid? Do we always feel bad afterwards? I have to do as I was taught. If I do everything I can to make it work, then it will work. As I believe that everything in life is solved by communication, I decide to talk to him later. He confirms my doubts by telling me that I certainly have a problem but that maybe it will pass.Here are the foundations of my thirty-one years of life shared with my beloved torturer. Isn't life beautiful?