Category: Current Affairs

  • Who they are…

    I was hesitant to do yoga…for I thought I would be overwhelmed with sorrow or sadness, that my disappointment of my family would take over each pose.  But, nothing happened, like that.  I was strong and had balance and flexibility.

    It came to me that the road of Estrangement is not ever going to be easy to navigate, but like a tough yoga pose, if you breathe and focus, you can get through it.

    Estrangement from family who you left due to their behaviors…will not change their behaviors, because you left. 

    In fact, the very nature of my mother is and always has been to disregard what is good for her child…and her grandchildren. That IS why I am estranged from her.

    There is also something about skipping me and her wanting to see her granddaughter, like a skip in a record….she wants to continue to sing her song…going to a believing ear and by passing one who is on to her.

    How like abuse.

    To find an easier target.

    I know, my non-supporters, believe I am adding drama, for it simply is "just a grandma wanting to be at her granddaughter's wedding for pete's sake.  Do you have to drag abuse into every occasion, can't you just let it go and forgive and Move ON!"

    It is 'just a grandma' that I do have issues with…as we all well know.

    She is anything but, "just a grandma".

    Her getting to play the role of "just a grandma" tags her as innocent and those of my father's victims….as guilty.

    Will a Guilty Grandma Arrive?

    Hardly.

    She will come in fully blessed and forgiven and right as rain….with all the grandma rights restored.

    The simple wiping away of her contribution of so many girls being abuse over a period of 40 plus years…leaves the victims standing in a very awkward position…she is right as rain, but we are not.

    The walk of estrangement from her seems odd if she is innocent.  It only works if she is the one who actively created a home where little girls were directed to his lap…the lap of a pedophile.

    Sometimes it does seem like I may be overreacting, that I may be a drama queen…until she reminds me once again why I walked away.

    It also came to me, that the wedding guest list began a long time ago….when I gave my child the right to choose who she would have relationships with.  Allowing her to be with folks I walked away from. Now, both worlds will collide….

    I will have to suck up my awkwardness and dread for the sake of my child.

    What also strikes me…is that the reason I walked away was for the good of my child and now the reason I walk back in is on her wedding day.

    One thing I know for sure, is that the toughest parts on the path of estrangement are the places where you see your true strength and character….and you also get a crystal clear view of who they are. 


     

     

  • I know the difference.

    Ever since I heard my mother is coming, as well more siblings than I had originally thought; I have been in a state of Dread.

    I had to look up Dread, to make sure I have the correct meaning.

    "To anticipate with great apprehension or fear."

    It seems these feelings have the ability to overcrowd the ones of Love and Joy I have for my daughter and her wedding day.  

    Where the past's characters are taking up way too much room…overshadowing any other emotions…unwanted guests in my mind.

    What I can see from so many vantage points is the life of an abused child.

    How, the light-hearted joyful emotions are an easily overrun by fear and dread…

    I can see how normal life events are eclipsed easily and you are not left living in a space of Light…or even this moment of time.

    And, this is just the anticipation of the collision.  Not, even the actual event.

    Again, in a child's life, waiting for the next encounter with their abuser(s)….how it consumes your world.

    What I am watching is my mind playing with scenarios.  Planning exits stragedies, etc..all unknown.

    Yet known.

    My body remembers how it feels in their space.

    It isn't jumping for joy, but bogged down in dread.

    I am being asked to walk among them again…and it feels like a walk back into the known dysfunction.

    I understand enough, that when I am 'asked' or forced by the Universe, when there isn't a choice, it means something for my soul…another growth spurt.

    In this fear and dread is a big peice of my Self.

    By walking forward, I will meet her.

    A long walk back into my estranged family's presence…to embrace another part of me.

    What I know, is that I have to feel this.

    I have to walk forward in order to gain another layer of strength…for IF I can do this, the world opens up a bit wider.

    I will enter into the family spaces a different woman.  I have words that I can articulate and the strength to say them. 

    My resolve to be present and graceful at my daughter's wedding is already being practiced…in how I continue forward with the party prep, knowing the pitfalls it now holds.

    The day will be what I pay attention to.

    Each come with an intention in mind..

    I can't know their reasons or the choices that were made in their worlds…their being there is their business, not mine.  

    What I do know, is that the dread seems less today or perhaps my resistance. I also know, I have traversed many side-roads that were not easy; but were amazing in how I gained wisdom about me and even the other person and/or event.

    What I know for sure, is without my estrangement or walking away from dysfunction, there would not be another side of this wedding; but one.

    There would not be a collision, but a union.

    No contrast.

    No polar opposites to the dread.

    No awareness to the evil that denial breeds.

    No feelings inside of me.

    No complete and utter freedom to know love, peace and joy.

    Because I walked out, there are now two worlds.  Two sides….I see the Light and have experienced the dark.  I know the difference.


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    Me and a Copper Country Mental Health Board Member….at my "Meet the Artis."

     




     


  • The Woman Who Sewed.

    "The conflict between what one is and who one is expected to be touches all of us. And sometimes, rather than reach for what one could be, we choose the comfort of the failed role, preferring to be the victim of circumstance, the person who didn't have a chance."  Merle Shain

    I have learned in the past 8, almost 9 years, that I can no longer live my life as others expect, but have no choice anymore but to live as I am.

     I can't pretend to pretend, that I will even endeavor to be what you expect me to be….what you would prefer me to be…I will never even try to please you, before I please me.  Not ever.

    I use to live in the comfort of the failed role that was not me…and so many were at peace…while I lived a life of quiet resentment.  

    I resented you for expecting anything from me.

    I put the rage/anger/resentment on you.

    When, the truth was, I didn't know who I was or how to be me AND do this without failing your expectations of Me.

    It was the most exhilarating and completely terrifying journey….to disappoint you and please me.  I lost all who expected a different me…and, there are some who still mourn for the old me.  She is dead…

    Who stands in her place is me…the me I recovered or uncovered. The me who is completely known to me…but may be unfamiliar to you.

    Imagine, I lived for 46 years as someone who failed at being herself.

    I lived for your peace.

    I lived for your love.

    I lived for your joy.

    I was going to write, I didn't know what brought me peace, love and joy…..and perhaps I didn't.  But, I did know, that IF I began to question or stop serving others, there would be moments of discomfort…

    I guess I did know, deep down what I truly wanted…but was too afraid to do it.  To just say what I needed to say and do what I needed to do…for I knew that so many relationships were based up the expectations of others…and had very little to do about individual needs.

    I am sure the crux of dysfunctional families is that we all live to serve the parents. No matter who they are and what they've done. We are taught to live under their expectations.

    Daring to live, thrive and flourish outside of what they had expected is so freeing and can often seem like rebellion…

    When all it is is to be living the role of Me.

    It will be Me who walks among my Art Therapy….quilts.  The ones who represent how the world was so large and me so small, the inner self esteem almost non-existent.  

    It is a surreal moment to be the Lady….speaking of the "Lady"….knowing it is Me and Me.  

    As I pondered the "Meet the Artist"….I see it as meeting the Divine or the Universe or something other than me. For often I was unaware I what I was creating as I was creating it.

    It is like I too want to meet the artist to see the source of these quilts…

    I will go tonight, feeling less like an artist, but more like a Fan…knowing this is not of my doing…but that I am the woman who sewed.


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    "Lady" quilts on display at Copper Country Mental Health – Houghton, MI

     

  • The Imperfect Artist!

    When I was asked to do a "Meet the Artist" at Copper Country Mental Health, I eagerly said yes…and then I thought….great, I get my Haircut the same week, a few days before….a fresh haircut always makes any outfit look better.  And, I even have an outfit….all set, Oh and even had my eyebrows done….I was way ahead, prepared and in good shape, until my tooth broke.  Yep, I will do the artist meet and greet minus a tooth.  I laughed out loud.

    It isn't in the front, but on the side in the lower left of my mouth, but it will be easily seen when I am talking….or so I believe.

    What I am accepting is that each time I aspire to reach this pulled together look, the Universe arranges me to be imperfectly imperfect.  With no effort at all, I left standing a bit disheveled….although, hey, I will have awesome hair and nice eyebrows and a new outfit!

    Knowing that I have this 'defect' in my mouth will be something that will bring a smile as I move around.  I just love how I no longer have to reach for this un-reachable place of being fully put together….now, like dinging a new car, I can relax and just be….the damage is done, no more perfection to maintain or worry about.

    So yes, come and meet the Imperfect Artist!

    (Copper Country Mental Health….across from Econo Foods in Houghton…from 4 to 6pm!)

  • Who Believes in Me.

    The kick I had in my gut, I at first named it fear….and then, I thought maybe it was guilt…but today, after letting this sensation ride along for a few days, it felt more right calling it the feelings of Not Being Believed.

    To have oodles of writings, musings and prose excavated from my soul, only to have it doubted or disregarded…to be challenged or simply not believed.

    I more than likely will not have face to face confrontations, but rather be silently ignored.

    The fear of not being believed feels right to me, that my outspokenness will not be heard.  That life will continue on and my voice muted…echoes of my childhood.

    Will my ladies bring enough attention?  Is it hard to disregard when Art is carrying my words?  

    While the general public and perhaps other victims gaze upon my Art, I wonder what the Believers (FALC Members and other similar churches)will see?  Will siblings wander by…and glance?  What will they see?  

    The Story Line quilts and the Lady quilts for that matter, are the essence of me…the vessel that allowed me to express myself, they were the catalyst that allowed me to see inside of me.

    When there is doubt and disbelief, it is to not see me…again.


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    And maybe, the most important person this Art was meant to reach, was me!

    Guess it doesn't matter who believes, hears or sees….for I am the most important one who believes in me.

  • Failed to Register…

    "A man set to stand trial for molesting an underage girl was sentenced to nine months in jail for failing to register as a sexual offender after an earlier offense."  

    Now let's see. This 27 year old man is awaiting a new trial…but he is in jail because he failed to 'register as a sex offender'.  Perhaps our court system needs to be in jail too, for not putting this man away the first time.  How many chances do you get in our legal system before they get the message.  "SEX OFFENDER".

    Who is failing to register that he is a sexual predator?

    He knows it.

    His victims know it.

    The family of the victim more than likely knows it, Unless he is family, than the jury is still out….they too may not have registered his sex offending ways.

    Who doesn't know this man is a sex offender?

    And yet, we will have a long expensive court case to see if he is guilty or not… 

    Really?

    To me, he is not the only one who failed to register….

    (article on the front page of the Daily Mining Gazette – Houghton Michigan)

  • I am on the Team!

    As we work on the details for my Story Line Quilts at Copper Country Mental Health, a contact introduced himself to me as a team member of Trauma Informed Recovery Team.  I had to look up the word trauma.

    "Trauma".

    A deeply distressing or disturbing experience.

    Emotional shock following a stressful event or a physical injury, which may be associated with physical shock.  

    A serious injury or shock to the body, as from violence or an accident. An emotional wound.

    What is more amazing than the definition is that I had to ask.  Like, how in the world having been traumatized, did I not know its content.  

    We use words, and words often hide the actual facts.  "Trauma" encapsulates the actual event like a shroud, hiding the literal activities and content.

    To say Trauma instead of describing the actual events, allows us to not feel, know and react or respond viserally.  It almost seems that words allow for more denial or denial period.

    And, maybe the "Trauma Informed Recovery Team" clearly understands the contents of trauma and we the traumatized are slowly awakened to them.

    Imagine, it takes a team to help us recover…to sort through the trauma and to find a way to live in peace, love and joy after it.

    I am very grateful that there is a team for trauma, a recovery team!

    The trauma in my life was to experience sexual abuse from a father.  It had both emotional shock as well as physical injury from violence.  Trauma sure seems like a nicer word, that rape by a dad. 

    I am looking forward to see what else I learn as I hang My Story Line Quilts at Copper Country Mental Health. What services and teams are waiting there to help in my recovery.  

    I am hopeful that my quilts will bring awareness to teams waiting to help those of us who sadly know the after affects of trauma…to recover and restore our center, our balance, our confidence, our self esteem….our self.

    I know, that what was clearly shattered and destroyed was my sense of safety, of having some who loved and cared for me, my faith and trust….this is what gets shot to hell, when the ones you love….sexually abuse or are incapable of responding…like my mother.  I lost my parents and that was traumatic.

    It isn't the act of sexual abuse or the indifference after, it is finding out there is no one there to protect you.  That the world of safety and love is no more.

    Trauma is breaking the innocent world by those you loved and trusted.

    When kindness and love are replaced with rape and indifference…that is traumatic, for they are polar opposites.  To recover from that, often times means getting away from those hurtful people….which often leaves us estranged from family.

    I would love to be part of the Trauma Informed Recovery Team.  And, if my quilts help someone, give hope, lend inspiration….I am on the team!


  • The Helpers and the Help.

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    Yesterday was the first time I had walked into Copper Country Mental Health…after spending a half an hour I left with an overwhelming sense of gratitude.  I felt the sincerity and kindness…helpfulness and understanding a safe haven for those needing guidance.

    Gulping down an unexpected wave of emotion….I drove away.

    I had even said, "I should have probably used this place during my crisis…" and yet I had not.  I don't know exactly why, but it never crossed my mind.  

    I am not sure of their policies or services or pay schedules, but the feelings I had when I met with a few of the employees was kindness and caring….sincerely. A place for the troubled mind to find compassion.

    I truly have not given this place a thought, not a conscious literal mindful, or even inquiring thought, it has been a known place, but one I drive by unnoticing.

    Having been approached to exhibit My Story Line Quilts, I was invited in.  I went.

    My Story Line Quilts will shine there, be welcomed and appreciated, just like the rest of their consumers, clients, patients…etc.

    It is more special than an Art Gallery, for the eyes that gaze upon them will know my journey well….from both sides…the helpers and the helped.

    (I will take pictures of the exhibit in September…until then, I will get my quilts and their words together.)

  • Freely as who you are.

    There is a great article in the O Magazine this month, by Martha Beck….here is a bit of it.

    "Horse Sense"

    "Avery looks utterly bewildered. Since her confusion is vital to the process, I just smile."

    "I have brought Avery to my ranch today to help her understand why she feels anxious and uncertain in her life; why she rages at collegues, her children, her husband.  Though I've been serving as Avery's life coach for several weeks, there are things she can learn here, with Koelle and Ernie, that all the talking in the world could never convey."

    "But Koelle's request has thrown her. "Do whatever you want?" she repeats.  It's clear she has no idea what that might be.  Since infancy, Avery – like most of us- has done what she's supposed to do, not what she wants to do. She knows how she's "supposed" to act as a wife, mother, employee. But in equine life coaching, there is no "supposed to." There is you, an animal and the present moment. What you do with the situation is your choice, and for Avery, choice is an unfamiliar prospect." 

    "An equine coaching session consists of the following; You stand near a horse. You gesture to that horse. It gestures back. For a while, it all feels strange and random. But eventually, in a process beyond verbal description, you begin to feel a cell-deep, almost telepathic communication between you and the creature. Awakening your ability to connect with the horse allows you to understand yourself entirely in new ways. And in the weeks that follow, that understanding quietly transforms your life."

    "But Avery isn't there yet. For now she just stares at Ernie paralyzed.  He wanders around keeping his distance, smelling the dirt."

    "Then without warning, Avery begins to cry, "I feel like I'm supposed to do something," she says, "but I don't know what it is."

    "And where else in your life do you feel that way?" asks Koelle."

    "Avery's voice cracks as she answers, "Everywhere."

    "Yes," Koelle says, "The way we do anything is the way we do everything.  How you react to the horse is how you react to the rest of your life. That's why we're here."

    Skipping further into the article,

    "Humans who can "speak" in the gestual language horses use to communicate with one another have demonstrated that these animals are amazingly cooperative. They've also found that horses always tell you exactly what they think – and here's where things get interesting, because what horses think of you happens to be what most people think of you, too. The difference; Horses won't lie about. Flattery, backstabbing, and hidden agendas are unknown to horses. They communicate what they feel, straight up, all the time. Which means that to gain their trust, humans must be genuine, clear and honest. Which is why horse whispering is such a powerful psychological intervention."

    In the last part of the article….

    "Ernie is now chewing vigorously on Avery's hair. She laughs nervously."

    "Does that feel good to you?" asks Koelle."

    "It is alright," says Avery, though her body has gone rigid."

    "Really?" Koelle says. "It is all right to have horse teeth in your hair?"

    "He means well."

    "And he deserves to know what you really feel.  Tell him what you want and need.  We teach people how to treat us. Communicate."

    "Avery pushes gingerly at Ernies muzzle. "No, no," she says weakly. But even to me, sitting several yards away, it's clear that her body language is saying, "Do whatever you want, just don't stop liking me." Ernie shoves her ear with his nose.

    "Make your message stronger," says Koelle. "Stand up straight. Get big and loud. Use what you need when you need it.  How would you set boundaries with your kids or your employees?"

    "Clearly not knowing what else to do Avery draws on the desparate anger she uses when exhausted, backed to the wall. "NO!" she se shouts, pushing both hands into Ernie's face. He reacts as you might if your favorite Aunt Millicent pulled a gun on you.  Leaping backward and spinning, he tears around the pen. Avery tries to slow him down by running at him, waving her hands. Ernie spins, spraying dirt, his hooves like thunder on the ground."

    "Help!" Avery shouts."

    Koelle has already stepped into the pen. She puts a hand on Avery's shoulder , breathing deeply and slowly. Immediately, Avery seems calmer. Koelle drops her eyes and gently raises her free hand, and Ernie slows to a trot, then to walk. Avery stares in disbelief."

    "So," says Koelle, "When you set a boundary, is that pretty much how your kids and employees react, too?"

    "Avery bursts out laughing, "Pretty much."

    "We call that the exploding-doormat effect," I interject. You hold in your unhappiness until it's intolerable, then you blow up."

    "That's what my mom always did." Avery says. "I didn't realize I was doing it too."

    "You do what you were trained to do," says Koelle."

     

    And further down in the article…..I love this part too.


    "Why don't you suggest going for a walk together?" suggest Koelle.

    "Avery takes a few steps, ad Ernie follows – until Avery tenses up and looks behind her. Then Ernie stops, snaps back his head."

    "Were you afraid he wouldn't stay with you?" asks Koelle."

    "Yes."

    "Your fear scared him. And your need for him to follow feels icky-sticky, and clingy. If you're to lead, believe that he'll follow."  Martha Beck

     

    It is my humble belief, that in the churches such as the FALC, OALC, etc, we lose our horse sense, even worse than just the run of the mill family preferences. And, if you were abused, even more.

    That we have to learn how to speak the unspoken language of self. The feelings and truth that have been buried underneath layers of religious and family beliefs.

    Finding your horse sense will be to live freely as who you are.



  • Reasons for silence…

    Here is a comment from my last post.  I wanted to re-post it here and along with my comment…

    "While I understand your circumstances left you deeply wounded, abuse situations vary greatly. There are legitimate reasons for not pushing for transparency.

    "One is legal. Minor's identities are protected by law. When they are an adult, they can make the choice but it should not be made for them nor should they be pressured when they aren't aware of all the ramifications."

    "Another is ethical. Allowing the victim control over the case honors their autonomy, which was ripped away by the crime." 

    "A third is strategic. During an abuse investigation, the threat of exposure can be a significant motivation for the abuser to cooperate. Attorneys often withhold details as bargaining chips. "

    "I'm sure there are other reasons, too . . . . these are just the ones of which I'm aware."

    "I agree that the response you give when you hear about another's abuse is important, that abuse should be exposed, and abusers should be named and shamed. But the methods and timing will vary with the circumstances, and the victim should have as much control as possible."  Free

    I appreciate Free commenting and being so detailed in her reasoning, helping us all see things differently…but, I am not so much deeply wounded, but wise.

    Or at least I feel less wounded and more aware.  And, maybe being wounded means you are experienced in the aftermath of abuse.

    While I do appreciate your reasons, I am also aware that there will always be reasons to be silent.  It typically starts with the abuser. Then, not wanting to hurt the family or friends, or church or something. Like our words will be the kill joy to so much.  And, then the lawyers have reasons….it goes on and on.

    I am not suggesting children of abuse, adult or otherwise, do things they don't want to do, but I am suggesting the freedom that comes when you no longer live with secrets.

    It somehow feels wrong that "threat for exposure" be a tool….to bargain with.  It should be mandatory to be exposed.  It is like the law is helping with the silence.

    Maybe I am wrong and I just don't get it or refuse to see the details but some of the reasons just don't make sense to me.

    The whole culture of 'protecting the victims rights' seems backwards.  

    Our rights is to have the truth be told.  That even newspapers are not allowed to print the victims names.  This hiding of us, makes it seem shameful to be abused…like it is best others NOT know.

    Whispering and keeping it quiet makes it shameful.

    What other crimes are treated this way???

    None.

    And, these are extremely intimate, BUT not secretive…or yes done in the dark, but they are not something WE Victims should be silent about.

    This whole cultural thing of silence and privacy makes it seem like we are part of something bad, like when do we get to be out and loud?

    To me, we need to flip this around completely.  

    Not only within our families, but within churches and the courts of the land.

    How dare the lawyers use the "Threat of exposure" as a bargain tool…it should be a given…you do sex crimes we will speak up.

    The victims need for being anonymous would be null and void, if we didn't treat these crimes so differently.  How often do you hear of theft, and burglary as something shameful?

    Why are sex crimes so secretive?  It seems they start out in secret and get left in that mode.  I am just trying to open them up…to free them from the silence.

    And, I know no matter how hard I try to do this, there will be reasons for silence…