Kindle Notes & Highlights
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April 12 - April 13, 2023
I realize there are people who don’t know how to apologize. They know it’s necessary for life, for people to move on and all that, but it doesn’t quite make sense to them. They’re not sure how to go about it. It’s like if they admitted wrongdoing, it would hurt them too much instead. Instead of addressing the problem, they act nice, cover it up, explain their side, their why, and use that as a substitute apology.
Nothing so far has any sort of apology in it. His words run up and down, explaining why I shouldn’t have done what I did and what makes his response okay and how it’s reasonable considering his past.
Even when stuff hurt, or felt entirely wrong, everything set up around it made it feel normal, almost expected.
It’s amazing how he can be so charming, then in the same breath, make me feel disgusting and powerless, like I’m just here to bend to his will.
I’m wary of accidentally upsetting him even when he’s not around.
He likes to check in to make sure I’m loyal but doesn’t generally extend it to making sure I’m okay.
When Rob finishes, I sit up and look out the window, trying not to make any noise. I’m shaking, and they know I’m crying, but I don’t want them to actually see me cry.
They are just as bad. Watching all the mistreatments and doing nothing about it.
I wonder over and over if this is what love is supposed to be like. Is putting up with your partner’s sexual kinks part of loving them or should you say no and hold your ground? And what happens if I tell him no? He would probably be upset, refuse me, and then our relationship is ruined. Over.
When he does finally walk out the door, I’m always so mad at myself. I don’t want to do this stuff, but for some reason I do it anyway. I’m not sure if I’m afraid of him or losing him or if it’s just ingrained in me that this is what you do for the person in your life. Maybe it’s ingrained in me that you get in trouble if you say no. My childhood could testify to that. But this… this isn’t how I was raised. I never would have imagined my adult relationship would include being smacked in the face with his clammy, post-workout manhood. It seems so normal to him, like he’s been doing it forever.
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I can’t lift a fork to my mouth yet. Can’t control my bladder. Forget about using fingers to hold anything. I have to relearn everything. I have to learn how to walk again, how to stand, how to speak.
Even when it’s not working, just plain awful, or I’m sobbing in pain. Even when he’s angry, frustrated, or belittling me, he still wants it to be me. No one else.
I’ve put so much effort into sugarcoating different scenarios and decisions so I could live with them.
Sony and Jive records knew what was going on for twenty plus years. There should be retribution for that for the victims, even if just in the form of counseling, for knowingly allowing this to continue. They knew. They set up my flights to meet him. I was in those rooms with him recording while he was under contract, making his music, their property.
It’s weird to me, because the docuseries is being nominated for awards, and I feel like I shouldn’t be sleeping on floors and begging for shelter.
We ladies sit right next to the Surviving R. Kelly execs at the Critic’s Choice Awards. They don’t look at us. They don’t even acknowledge that we’re here. It’s as though we exist on a different plane when they don’t immediately need something from us.
When I get back to the Burbank Holiday Inn where Lifetime booked my room, some of Rob’s crew are casually standing in the lobby. My mouth drops open as I realize they put me in the same hotel as the people I’m accusing of misconduct.
beforehand. They tell the story of who the women were before meeting Jeffrey Epstein. There’s a level of comparison. They develop these very much real women in the viewer’s eyes as genuine people with histories and lives before going into what happens to them and how it changes the courses of their futures. Surviving R. Kelly ended up being all about R. Kelly. They have certain ways of doing things with certain people. They chose to do things differently.
Why did you stay? Why do you think I stayed? I wasn’t hiding out in hotels, pressing my face to the floor of the car for fame or my music career. I loved him. And before I truly loved him, he offered
hope. I met Robert when I was an underage teenager, still essentially a child, abused by three people already and wanting to trust someone but unaware how the world worked. When you’re in that position, no one can really tell you. Neglected by my mom, I adjusted to accept strange or hurtful behavior to deal with the people in my early life. None of this made me think I would end up here. This isn’t something you pick, but I can assure you, those people pick you. That goes for relationships, friendships, bosses, etc.
I was an easy target for a man over ten years older than me. I was also an easy target for the media years later. Doing what I’m told, accepting abuse, not standing up for myself, because no one has time for it.
