Nerissa — she's an author.

AuthorNerissa

Getting in Trouble for the Things I Wrote.

Trigger Warning: The story below is a memory I have of domestic violence.

This is how I remember the first time I didn’t cry when being beaten. I was maybe 13. My father had started up with me about a hymnbook he accused me of having. I told him I didn’t have it, but he used that as an excuse to come into my room and find my diary. At the time, I didn’t realize what he was doing. I kept my diary under a pile of clothes on my closet floor, thinking that was a great hiding place. So when he started to search through the clothes, I really thought he was looking for his hymnbook.

When he found my diary and started flipping through it, young as I was, I went straight to fight.

that’s my diary!

There wasn’t much yelling back and forth. He’d taken off his belt and started to beat me. It was as I was going down the stairs, trying to get away while he was lashing at my back and head that I realized:

I don’t have to cry.

He got me out of the room and went back upstairs. I was still ready to fight. He was going back to my room, back to the diary, but I still had a bullet in my mouth.

This is abuse!

And that did it. He started to beat me again, this time chasing as I ran from the family room to the kitchen, continuing to lash me even though I was crouched on the floor in a fetal position. He stopped beating after I pleaded. He would probably remember it differently, and so would my mother.

How Frank Underwood Disappears


Opening Scene: A middle-class chain restaurant, general chatter. Televisions above the bar displays a news program. Frank Underwood’s face is in a small square beside a reporter. Camera pans in on a couple, their conversation comes into focus.
Woman: What do you think of this whole… (she gestures towards the television)
Man: (with a shrug and grunt, voice goes up as if he’s asking a question) Ok, you might think this is kind of gross, but I actually feel sorry for the guy.
Woman sips drink.
Man: I mean, all these people can just say whatever they want and all of a sudden he’s guilty?
The woman reacts for a split second.
Woman: So what do you do for work?
Camera pans out, man responds, conversation blends in with restaurant chatter.

How We Start

FU has completely disappeared from the public eye. At the start of the first episode, FU has been “gone” for a few months. The world has mourned the death of Tom Yates.

Claire’s Apology Tour

Claire hustles to bring the extensive list of women she used and threw away back to her side. She starts with Megan (spoke about sexual assault by the man who raped Claire in college), then moves on to Christina Gallagher, Peter Russo’s ex-girlfriend, and Linda Vasquez. Her approach to Cathy and Jackie need to be more considered and careful. Leann, who has just made a full recovery from a car accident four months ago, starts by making personal visits.

No one is really willing to speak with Claire or anyone from her team at first, but she plays deeply apologetic to the ones who feel wronged specifically by her, and understanding to those who are suspicious. Overall though, Claire is consistent. The reason for this activity is Claire’s team catches on to a #nomore movement in its early stages. The movement focuses on men who have used their power and privilege to abuse, attack, assault women and generally keep women’s careers small.

While Claire works on the women she’s had previous relationships with, her team mobilizes to build good relationships with major media outlets. At the right moment, Claire is positioned as one of the early voices of this movement. It is subtle — just one mention in an article — but effective. As more reports surface about how men have used and abused their power in Hollywood and other industries, more articles and news coverage mention Claire’s strength, her poise in telling the truth. Megan is also hailed as a hero. Her health has gotten better but she’s still fragile.

Illuminati Confirmed.

Conspiracy theorists start getting more attention (not by “reputable” sources thanks to the good work of Claire and her team), and are able to gain some popularity. Lucas Goodwin becomes a kind of hero among the more hardcore set.

One blogger starts a ‘dead or missing’ count (injured but alive is a sidetone) — a list of all the people who have been connected to the WH and have either gone missing or have died, including Yates and Frank.

Hashtag Nomore

The #nomore movement soon turns to FU. His prospects and future are ruined once and for all as the movement gains traction. Hammerschmidt’s article prompts more stories from people who have been bullied by Frank, or witnessed the bullying. Here the audience hears from characters like Linda (Walker’s chief) and Kate Baldwin. Even Heather Dunbar gets a quote. A story leaks about a conversation Cathy Durant had with FU in his final months in the White House where he basically confessed to everything.

While there are some uncontrolled sources, Claire’s close relationship with her ‘unofficial’ team ensures that those sources provide stories to the media only about Frank and Doug (possible source: Nathan Green!). Multiple people share that Frank would often talk to himself when he thought no one was watching or listening. Claire reads a story that quotes him comparing Claire to a boy he used to know that climbed up a tree. Proof of Claire’s work with her team: none of the leaks mention how Tom used to walk around the WH without any shoes, or spent any outside office-hours time in the residence.

As more people question Frank’s behaviour, attention turns back to Claire. Supporters question how she could stay in a relationship with the man for as long as she did. As more news of what Frank did to become president comes to light, critics wonder if she should even be in the white house at all. Claire’s supporters are fiercely loyal (and fuelled, in secret, by Claire’s team) — as the first woman to serve as both president and vice president, to some of them criticizing Claire is akin to misogyny of the worst kind. They start to lend some fuel to the #nomore movement. Tom Hammerschmidt becomes an enemy. His previous relationship with Zoe Barnes resurfaces, the ‘cunt’ story makes a comeback. As a result, Tom’s editors ask him to back off on the WH with Claire in charge.

Here he tries to turn to Janine Skorsky so she can carry on with his work.

Claire has another sit-down interview, this time at the estate of one of the most popular women on television (think Oprah). Claire and her team have their key message: that Claire is focused on bringing stability, respect, and safety back to the country and the WH. But to get there, she must answer some key questions first. During the interview she talks about her complicated relationship with Frank, how he had trouble supporting her career aspirations. She admits he could be a bully, but she was in love with him and just wanted to make him happy. She shares how many women across the country do the same thing: they may see something wrong or hear something wrong, but they brush away the signs to make things alright.

The interviewer asks what it was like living with Frank. Claire says it wasn’t always easy, there were fights sometimes, like any married couple. Then the interviewer asks the question Claire and Leann want her to ask: did Frank ever put his hands on you? Did he ever hit you? Claire has to be careful here: too quick to respond and her motives become obvious. “It wouldn’t be fair for me to…” She falters, but that’s all she needs to say. The interview moves on, but by the end, Claire successfully comes back to her key message: that she’s working to bring the WH back to what it used to be.

Interviewer: Ok, so let’s get this out of the way: do you know where Frank is?
Claire: Believe me, I am wondering the same thing. I have a lot of questions for Frank.
Interviewer: (smiles slightly) Yes, we all do. (pauses) So you’re calling him ‘Frank’ now? No more ‘Francis’?

Janine Skorsky hasn’t agreed to take on Hammerschmidt’s work, but she is a strong critic of Claire Underwood. She sees very clearly what the WH team is doing and fuelled by that anger, finds evidence of a lawsuit against Claire that was dropped during her time at the Clean Water Initiative. She reaches out to Gillian Cole for a comment. She also reaches out to Megan to ask what happened to Claire’s sex assault bill, and why Megan seems to be back in the good graces of the WH.

Important Points We Need To Address

Not all the points, but a couple.

In the end, Claire’s a murderer. In previous seasons we saw her struggling with guilt. This will probably unravel in her ultimate demise (I’m assuming).

White Feminism. This #nomore movement is mostly about white women and white feminism.

Frank and Claire’s actions to fuel the terrorism rhetoric. Claire is now front and centre of the issue. Will she pull back on the terrorism talk or push it forward to further her own interests?

The Conways. Do they just … disappear?

Feature image photo by Farhan Siddicq on Unsplash.

(I wrote a version of this on the House of Cards reddit.)

I Stopped Speaking to My Parents: A Story Side.

I was originally going to call this post ‘pissed’, but there’s something about calling a thing a thing and then it becoming that thing. I call myself ‘pissed’ and then I become ‘pissed’. So it feels better to say that I’m ‘taking my time’, but that doesn’t make for a catchy blog post title.

So about a month ago, my father called me up to ask if I would create the funeral program for a man who touched me inappropriately in church when I was about 14 / 15. I don’t answer the phone when certain family members call, so I took a few days and then picked up the phone to have the confrontation call to say : what the hell is wrong with you? he said sorry, blah blah blah.

Then, I’m in DC about a week later telling my cousin about the situation and she said her sister remembered being there when my parents were at my grandmother’s house around the time this thing happened (again, about 20 years ago) she said someone in the house asked if I was lying, though it probably sounded more like asking if I was “making up story”.

When I heard that, I did the math real quick and realized the reason my father thought it was okay to ask me that stupid question was probably, most likely because HE DIDN’T FUCKING BELIEVE ME back then.

When I asked, his response was that he didn’t remember the conversation at my granny’s house.

When it originally happened, I told my parents. They knew within 20 minutes. But for some reason, the man was in my parent’s house within a week. I opened the door and my mother was there with this *look* on her face, she said something to me like ‘you don’t want to be here right now’ and I looked around the corner to see the man sitting at the table eating with my father. I went straight to my room and planned how I would move out of the house. Again, I was about 14 / 15.

For years I’ve done things that people in my “family” and the people my family know don’t understand, like move out of the house, stop going to church, stay away from certain functions or people I’m related to. Long time ago I realized the “outside world” was safer than my own house and church. I could at least rely on my own, protect myself if I was on my own.

And it seemed too weird to me that all of these allegations are coming out and this would happen, like some sick reminder. But what happened to me is how it happens to many others : how people are choked into silence by their families and communities, how they become chronically angry and repressed. How the communities and people around abusers rally to protect them instead of the girls, boys, men and women who are abused and assaulted. Sometimes the victim is told to stop talking, they’re shunned, ignored, they have the bible thrown at them, they’re not taken seriously, told ‘it didn’t happen’, and / or the people who perpetrated or witnessed what happened conveniently ‘forget’.

I’m gonna be 34 in January and have decided to practice forgiveness on these people. Almost immediately after that decision my mind runs : so, like, what does this mean, are we going to just hang out with them like nothing’s wrong? Go to Christmas at the house and shit like some fake-ity fake person? FUCK THESE PEOPLE, I’M HURT / PISSED. I’ve had to stand up to myseld to my own fucking parents AGAIN. LIKE. REALLY?! Then another part of me considers being alone during the holidays…

But I gotta do me.

So I’ve also decided to do what I’m comfortable with. I have to stick with myself through anything — there is a choice in that. It takes work to not get caught up in my head over this, late at night and during the times I’m not with friends shutting down would be getting lost in my own mind, which I do regularly. It’s work. So I’ve decided to take my time and just take it slow. Forgiveness doesn’t erase shit, it just paves the way for some inner peace.

Feature images photo by Neal Alves. I think the link to the license is here.

Beyond ‘Pretending to be a White Male’.

honestly, fuck pretending to be a white male

This blog troubles me sometimes. I want to write and publish so much, but I can’t right now. {I’ll explain later.}

There are things I can write about, but in a lot of ways I’m still negotiating with my fears every time I come up with an idea for a blog post that might mention sex. Or ex-boyfriends, relationships. Or if I write about what it’s like dealing with PTSD at work. Or if I put a swear, like ‘fuck‘ in a post…

As you can probably tell, my relationship with these fears is a little combative. I see the fears, I know they’re there, but I like giving them the finger. They are personified in my life by the people I work with, my parents and extended family.

I’ve been reading Julia Cameron’s book The Artist’s Way and am on week one. The intention for this week is about recovering a sense of safety. I’ve read through the chapter a couple times. It started to come to me before I bought the book, but after reading it through the first time, I’m realizing how important it is that I say whatever it is that I want to say. To write and publish anyway.

‘Pretend you’re a white male’. I heard the joke and chuckled. But in order to move forward, keep writing, publish posts, sing, read out loud, I still play pretend.

I’ve started to imagine myself as a protector, standing guard as my inner child plays, dances, reads, whatever. I have a spear in one hand and leave the other free. And I’m watching. Though most of the time, I have to guard myself against my own imagined fearful thoughts.

self-protection takes on a new meaning.

This image hits home for me because it reminds me of the people who were supposed to play that role in my life. It mainly reminds me of my father, who invited a man into our house who had touched me inappropriately in church when I was a teen. The man had never had reason to visit our house before that happened, and he never visited afterward.

Not being safe, for me, wasn’t just about singing even if cousins or my sister told me to shut up. It wasn’t about writing a letter that would get me in trouble, or telling my father to his face that he was an alcoholic even though I knew he’d probably try to beat me if I did.

Not being safe was about not having people who encourage, defend, protect. Being out alone as if in a field with predators I couldn’t see. It’s a feeling that something was going to happen, there was some danger, but there was nothing I could do — nowhere to hide except to get down. Get as flat to the ground as possible. Do anything but stand out.

I will not have my life narrowed down. I will not bow down to somebody else’s whim or to someone else’s ignorance. -bell hooks

Other people, the ones who write and publish blogs regularly and have followings, who say what’s on their mind and who have stood up to say they’ve been assaulted (by the types who think they can do anything because they’re famous and the types that don’t), I imagine those people have a whole army behind them. One or two persons are very close to them and help them feel safe. They amaze me, those people and their people.

In reading this chapter of The Artist’s Way, I have decided that I do not want to add my voice to those who told me to ‘shut up’, ignored me or dismissed what I felt. I wanted to fight those fears more, sing more, write more, everything more. It was an easy decision, and I’m grateful for that.

I love myself enough to even pay attention to the frantic voice that would convince me I’m in danger, that would paralyze me with thoughts of what this person might think, or what would happen if that person read this. It needs to be heard too, but it also needs to be put in its place.

how I know when I feel safe

I’ll never feel completely safe.

I don’t expect to completely ‘recover a sense of safety’ (partly because I don’t remember ever having that sense to begin with). It’s a part of myself I’ve learned to accept. I’m even curious about it — maybe there’s a way to work with it, find out if there’s a reason for its existence.

To move forward with doing the things I most want to do I’ve created an idea of what a basic sense of safety feels like, and am imagining my way towards it.

A Note for When You Have to Keep Going.

do not stop.

do not stop because you think you won’t make enough money, because you’re afraid of what people will say, because you’re not sure you’re {something} enough.

do not detour.

do not get distracted by other ideas.

do not lose yourself in the world, in new love, in old love.

do not talk yourself out of it.

do not spend your time making excuses.

do not believe your own excuses.

do not hold on to the excuses you’ve already made.

do not believe that because you stopped once that that means you can’t start again.

do not be afraid.

do not be shy.

do not ignore the voice inside that tells you what must be done.

do not allow the friends who don’t want you to succeed talk you out of it.

do not allow your husband to manipulate you out of it.

do not allow your wife to scare you out of doing it.

do not create circumstances in your life that will later on prevent you from doing it.

do not allow your kids to take up all of your time so that you can later say you had no time to do it.

do not allow your parents to guilt you out of it.

do not allow work to take up all of your energy so that at the end of the day you say you “can’t” do it.

do not fill up your life with drugs and alcohol and television and food and everything else so that there’s no space for it.

do not allow yourself to be consumed by jealousy because other people are doing it.

do not fall for the illusion that it’s “so easy for them” and get frustrated because you think it’s not easy for you.

do not let the fear of criticism scare you out of doing it.

stay steady.

stay steady