For those of you that don’t know, I can’t write about it. This is a explanation of a recent event. I am being vague, I know.
Recently, although they do not know what has happened to me, people have been giving me flowers. At work today I was given a tiny vase of sweet peas. The fragrance took me back to childhood, the scents of summer afternoons, of grass between my toes and hoping that the day would last forever.
By me, as I type, I have lilies. I love lilies, I love their cloying scent, the incense of the floral world; I love how the soft white fades into delicate pink, that almost colour.
This is not what I want to write.
My body is the wrong colour. It looks like a garden at dusk. All its real colours are transformed into something wrong. I am indigo, deep, angry reds, dull purples and welts. I am welts.
It is not my body. It is not what I live in. I am having trouble claiming my skin as my own.
There are moments that I want to tell you about. I keep trying to write it but I can’t.
I will tell you one. And then I am going to talk about something beautiful. I will come back to this topic at some point.
There was a moment, when he had given up beating me. He would have carried on but something made him stop, maybe my sobbing finally grated on him, or maybe my tears disgusted him.
I sat there, shaking, weeping, horrified, terrified and I looked at him and I saw on his face defeat.
I have seen defeat before. I have seen it on Dev’s face. I have seen when he stops, exhausted, broken for a moment by my hard will. I can defeat us both, I have longed to submit but I can’t and I look at him, he looks back at me. For a moment, I fear he will give up on me. He doesn’t. We talk. We think. We find our way through and he takes me back over his knee, or over the bed or over the table and he takes me over.
But this man was not Dev. This man looked down at me. He stood there, glaring at me and I saw defeat on his face. I did not understand it at the time. I had submitted before I arrived near him, I was broken five minutes in. I can’t talk about what he did to me. The word “brutalised” keeps coming back. He threatened me again, right there, right at the end, to do more to a body that had clearly taken more than it could. I did not understand the defeat in his eyes.
I understand it now. I did not defeat him, it wasn’t me. God knows, I lost that night. I lost everything, just for a few hours.
What defeated him was his own terrible lack of understanding, his brutality where there should have been tenderness. I remember reading a quote from a drummer who said, “When it comes down to it, you’ve just got to hit the damn things hard.” That is what this man did to me. He hit the damn thing hard and he hit it again. And when it sobbed and shook and broke, he hit the damn thing harder.
He could not work out what on earth had happened. He had hit the damn thing hard and it was not what he wanted it to be. I don’t know what he did want. I can’t imagine he had another outcome in mind.
But he did not understand it. The situation had defeated him. He may have known that for a moment but I doubt it. If he did, he will have forgotten it now.
Something beautiful, I said, at the end. I don’t have any words that are beautiful right now. I am ok, just not in that place yet. The defeat in the heading, its not mine. So here is a picture, I hope it makes you smile.
Poppy, I’m glad you wrote “just a little,” because I know it’s important to you to have an outlet, but also because this made so much sense to me. I never thought of that moment as defeat, but you’re right, it is, and it explains a lot.
I would send you mountains of flowers if I could, and by the time they have faded you will have your body back and it will better than ever
Em, you really helped me to write this, when I read what you wrote you wrote it made it ok to write for myself.
We will learn from each other and for each other.
Thank you for the flowers.
xx
It hurts even to read this…I can’t imagine how much it must hurt you.
Someone once told me that people who abuse others are weak; that parents who have to hit or threaten or humiliate their children to get them to do what they want are weak, because violence is only a sign of your own frustration and pain, reflected on others. She told me that I shouldn’t try to understand it, because those people don’t even understand themselves: they are weak and not in control of themselves. And when they lose the control over someone else, they know only one way, a terrible way, to try and get that control back.
I am so, so sorry, Poppy, that you fell in the hands of someone who had no control over himself, and as a result treated you terribly. I haven’t known you for very long, nor do I know very well, but you have shown incredible strenght and grace and kindness. He has no control over you.
You are a wonderful person, Poppy. I am so sorry this happened to you.
Hugs
Olivia
Thank you so much.
I think your friend was right. I am still thinking about what all this says about control, I think it will take a little while to understand but it will be worth it.
Honestly, behind the scenes I have shown little grace. There has been lots of crying and some quite high pitched complaints.
But he has, as you say, no control over me.
Poppy, good evening
and warm 
He was defeated, but you, not you, somewhat bruised, a little bent, but never defeated.
I wondered that you have been so quiet, I was concerned that something had happened.
I have faith in your strength.
Sending you love and warmth.
Paul.
Oh, Paul.
I was defeated, I really was. I was quiet, licking my wounds and I still am doing just that.
Thank you for having faith in my strength and thank you for the love, the warmth and the hugs, they are much appreciated.
Poppy, enjoy your beautiful flowers
.
and we can never let the mean people defeat us. Stay strong, sending big hugs. 
enjoy all your friends that love and support you
Thank you and thank you for all the behind the scenes kindness and support.
You have made me smile so much, it has helped lots.
Poppy Very few people have ever seen me angry. They have seen me frustrated, exasperated but rarely angry. Right now I am angry inside I will not show it I will sort it out and turn it into something positive. Olivia is so right anger is a sign of weakness but also of not understanding. It is made of fear and frustration of not knowing what to do.
I have been thinking lots about you of late. Of conversations and impressions. There is little I can say will express the pain I feel for your suffering. I sit speechless staring at words that can not convey my thoughts.
Be well Poppy St Vincent in mind as well as body
You see? If other people were like you then no one would have to write a post like this one.
I am trying to do what you do. I am trying to turn something horrid into something positive and I think I can.
Thank you so much for thinking about me. You conveyed great kindness and compassion in your words, I think those are your thoughts.
Poppy, I’m glad you’re writing again. My heart aches when I read of what you’ve endured. I wish I can send you flowers, give you a big hug or squeeze your hand in support.
Yes, that man was defeated, defeated by his own lack of control, his own anger and by your submission. On the other hand, you’ve overcome this; bruised but not defeated. You were broken but you’ve picked yourself up again. That takes great strength and character, which are both lacking in that man. Stay strong, Poppy. We’re all here to support you.
Thank you, Mindy. You send me a song, kind words and a poem that made me smile.
I am getting back up, just as you say. Thank you for your support.
Sweet Poppy,
We have not met, nor have we corresponded, but I feel like we are friends nonetheless. I often read your stories, but have never felt that my comments could/would add anything, so I have enjoyed your writings in appreciative silence.
Today I cannot keep silent. I am saddened, and sick, at the treatment you received at the hands of someone whose role was to be that of a guiding, centering, positive influence so that you could feel snuggly, secure and safe. To twist your trust into something so vile, so mean, so uncalled for makes me angry.
I wish I could give you a big hug. I wish Dev could wrap his arms around you until you feel all safe again. Then I wish Devlin could find this guy and make him sorry for the way he treated you. Meanwhile, I hope you can enjoy your flowers.
Pam, reading this I suspect your comments would have added a lot.
That is just what he did, he twisted what he should have been and made it into something awful. I think he must be very weak or very something, but I am not quite sure what. I may never know.
I wish the same as you. I have wanted Dev so much over these few days. He has been as amazing as ever.
I am so glad you came out of silence. I hope to hear from you again.
No Poppy, the defeat was not yours. You have gone on, risen up like a phoenix to find your way back to what is bright and good. Perhaps now you are working on shedding the last of the weights that were left over, that held you down. I hope so. You deserve to fly high and free. .
Thank you and I do think this has to be a turning point.
I have been thinking of a phoenix a lot recently, I should like to aspire to that.
I am working on those weights. I think it’s time.
“Here lies a tree which Owl (a bird)
Was fond of when it stood on end,
And Owl was talking to a friend
Called Me (in case you hadn’t heard)
When something Oo occurred.
For lo! the wind was blusterous
And flattened out his favorite tree;
And things looked bad for he and us–
I’ve never known them wuss.
Then Piglet (PIGLET) thought a thing:
‘Courage!’ he said. ‘There’s always hope.
I want a thinnish piece of rope.
Or, if there isn’t any bring
A thickish piece of string.’
So to the letterbox he rose,
While Pooh and owl said ‘Oh!’
and ‘Hum!’
And where the letters always come
(Called LETTERS ONLY) Piglet squoze
His head and then his toes.
O gallant Piglet (PIGLET) Ho!
Did Piglet tremble? Did he blinch?
No, no, he struggled inch by inch
Through LETTERS ONLY, as I know
Because I saw him go.”
With love and hugs for you, from me and all your fellow friends in the forest, as you squeeze through LETTERS ONLY. Once you are squoze through, you are done with it, and need never return.
When I say that you made me cry, I am trusting that you know it is in a good way.
I am sqozing, and soon I will be squozed.
xx
Scarlet, One can never go wrong with Pooh, and of course Piglet too.
Thank you, everyone, for being so absolutely brilliant.
Poppy, I am so sorry for all that you went through. I just want to give you a big giant hug.
Poppy,
Words escape me, I really don’t know what to say. I was so angy and sad reading your post, I can’t even image how he must have hurt you.
I can see your strength Poppy, your special and truly loved.
Love and hugs Poppy.
Ronnie
xx
Ally, thank you.
Ronnie, thank you too. He did hurt me but I am recovering and feeling better every day. Writing this helped me so much. I am grateful that you read it. xx
I hope you are doing better, Poppy. I’ve been thinking about you/the situation and thinking about how you are the one person who didn’t deserve this…. Not that anyone deserves something like that, but you are the sweetest, kindest, most caring person I’ve met in The online world and I am truly sorry this happened to you. But you are strong and I know you will soon be able to put this behind you. Big hugs and smiles.
XoXoXo
Dear Poppy, Your recent postings have been very dark, with hints of dreadful things. This self-revelation must be quite traumatic for you. The only question that matters is, does writing all this make you feel better? I do hope it does: it causes great concern among your readers.
Peter, you are right and I am so sorry for bringing sadness here. I always wanted my writing to be uplifting. The writing helps like nothing else does. I am sorry for making people sad, I understand what you say.
C, thank you so much. I am recovering right now. I am so much better and I am in London, looki g at art and feeling like me again. I am away tonight but tomorrow I will be back and I will tell you happy things, no news, just the feeling of being better. It’s like spring, isn’t it ?
And from me, to everyone who has commented here, thank you for your care and concern and love. The light is coming back, and all of you helped to bring it.
My heart goes out to you .
I can only imagine how horrid it must be to feel you were “defeated” but I truly feel that you are not defeated.
You are hurt and miserable and wounded. But defeated would not have written.
You have shown amazing strength to talk about this openly.
I hope every comment will help you heal.
If I could give you tender gentle hugs today, I would.
blessings to you always~
I’m so sorry you have gone through all this. I wish I could hug you tightly right now.
What does not destroy us makes us stronger. That’s been my motto, and it’s true.
Lots of love from
Hermione
Nancy, thank you so much and you are right. The comments did help me feel. It really helped me know that it was not ok. I lost my compass for a bit and the collective shouts told me what the right thing to do and feel was.
Hermione, thank you. What you say is true. I do feel stronger now. I really appreciate your comment. xxx
Oh sweet Poppy, I am sending hugs and flowers and hope. You are loved. I’m sorry for your pain, and inspired by your courage.
Ephe
Thank you so much and, I promise, I am feeling so much better now. That was perfectly succinct
xx