I M Perfect lady

The previous post’s pictures articulate the changes, and how in fact the little girl continues to look the same, but now feels like that dirty lake resides inside of her, by the actions done to her and the lack of response.

Prior to abuse entering into her world, her world is like Lake Superior on a beautiful summer day, calm, peaceful, relaxing, clean, fresh, beautiful, loving, kind, innocent…

And then….

(Recounting from the file)

“He was always very nice, showing interest in me… he casually pulled me on his lap, real friendly like, a real laid back guy…but very strong…he would pull me onto his lap, he forcefully pulled me on his lap and then take my hand, held my hand, and place it over his erect penis that would be out of his long johns…if she tried to pull it away, he would very firmly put it back, rubbing his penis, while Ray would be doing this, other people would be in the room, including his wife. The same scenario happened, over and over again…”  Little girl voices…

After abuse the world changes color, it is now darker, scarier and monsters lurk in kitchens and living rooms…friendly laid back guys can transform into monsters and then back again. No one seems to see the monster you are experiencing… It becomes this fluid ever changing landscape.

And from the file, each girl spoke of my father’s transformation, of going from nice laid back neighbor man to a forcible pedophile.  The juxtaposition.

What is missing is the transformation of the other adults.

The wife, neighbors and minister continued on as normal.

What is horrific is that they don’t become unglued…and transform into raging indignant people reeling about the injustice of such treatment of the innocent.

We are left with double transformations.

We wait to see our loving caring parent transform into rage at our abuse…and it doesn’t happen.

So we then, watch or feel inside the disappearing love, trust and faith.

It transforms from loving and caring, to caring less.

Our world now holds people who are not who they say they are, there are flipping images and we can’t trust what we see anymore.

The truth is, there is no truth.

This is the awful state to be in, where you can’t trust the kind face of my father for lurking in the background is forcible contact with his penis.

Double images.

You can’t trust your mother’s high morals and values for when it comes to the real tough things in life, she is unable to stand tall, to come out swinging for you.

She proclaims strong and comes out weak.

She turns a blind eye towards your abuser, which translates to us, a blind eye on our abuse our wounds…

If you don’t value your children, you don’t value anything.

And when you don’t value the children, the children can’t value themselves. They literally see themselves in your eyes.

What I saw in my parent’s eyes is the Lake of Sins…their sins.  I seen me through their eyes of sins…believing those eyes were talking about me, instead they were showing me who they were, and it had nothing to do with me.

Their value became my value…they can’t make me precious and valuable…without it being within them first.

“you can’t give what you don’t have…” seems like a lofty bit of wisdom the therapy world imparts, but I know form experience this is true.

When I discovered my own innocence, I could then see my children with eyes of innocence…but first I had to see the abuse my parents gave to me.  I couldn’t hold them innocent, for when I did I was the problem.

And what I know for sure is the girls; the little children who are forced to perform sexual acts are never the problem.  Not now, not ever.

Until I held my father accountable, my innocence was not mine.

This is very very tough for a child to do, for we want at all cost to keep a loving parent, a strong caring forceful in love parent, but instead we get parents who become strong in abuse and weak in love.

Even at my old age, I still wanted to have a strong generation before me, I didn’t want to be stronger than the top, I wanted a soft place to fall, someone to rely upon, a warm embrace, a shelter from life storms…

My healing and dealing and bearing the brunt of all ridicule and disdain is giving my children the parent I sought.

I have to withstand all the storms that have been leveled at me to show my children and I how strong I am, that no matter who abuses…I can stand tough.

I have stood against my father, my mother and all siblings who have openly and willingly supported and cared for them.  I have let family go for the sake of my own little girl inside and in doing so have secured an environment for my own children.

I have transformed multiple times…innocent to abuse, to innocent again, from strong to weak and weak to strong, from loving to fear and fear to loving, from me to not me to back to me again.

Back to the Lake of Innocence…