I M Perfect lady

Category: Current Affairs

  • Out of My Mind

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    I was asked to write an article for this paper.

    I have never written formally before.

    I have written a million or more words in my journals and on my blogs, but nothing formal.

     

    It took many first starts to find my tone.  It is the same tone I use on my blog.

    The tone is me.  

    Just speaking from this moment in time and my experiences.

     

    It is an interesting question on what Health and Happiness means to you.

    How does it sit in your world – how do you tend it?

     

    I have a clear moment in time where I woke up from a brainwashed system both in my family and in religion.  My mind had been securely closed off – and I wasn't aware.

     

    For true health and happiness, I believe you need an open mind.  A mind that is healthy, and able to challenge itself. In yoga they speak about bringing the mind back to the body – and to me that is the hardest thing to do – to be present in this moment of time – and not have a mind running amuck on endless fruitless tracks. 

     

    A quiet mind.  A mind that I can use and not have it use me. This quiet open mind has allowed me to live in peace, love and joy. To me, that is true health and happiness.

     

    My mind was a complete and utter mess.  It had so many wires crossed and was filled with lies and blank spaces. And, it had been living my life unchallenged. It never occurred to me that its contents were untruths. 

    A friend asked me, how was it possible to live in denial.

    Like, how can you not know.

     

    It is the oddest thing to not know you don't know.

     

    I think, I thought denial was, you knew and choose not to believe.

    Instead you don't know and you don't choose not to know.  Something in your brain doesn't allow information in that will oppose what it believes in.

     

    It is frightening to know that your brain can filter reality to keep its story alive.

     

    For the first 46 years of my life I lived a fairytale – reality wasn't allowed in.

     

    It isn't as rare as many may think.

    In my experience, I have encountered many who live under the control of their minds.  Childhood beliefs and religious standards become their own rulers.  Rulers as in kings.  It dominates and steers their lives.

     

    I used to think faith was a kind master.  Now, I am not so sure.

     

    A strong faith is often a mind that has been warped – and a body controlled.

     

    I am not certain whether my spiritual abuse came before or after my sexual abuse. But, the two together formed an ironclad bond in my mind.  It kept me from Me.

     

    The mind disowned my body and its truths. And, the mind turned a blind eye to reality and what was happening. I get it. I was too young to know what was going on and it shielded me with blankness.

    Yet it left me not knowing what I needed to know.  

     

    It is hard for many folks to understand what the mind does with abuse.

    To me the longest affects of abuse is the damaged mind.  The mind that believes in untruths.

    This sets you up to live life in a very confused way.

     

    Where reality skips by and untruths live as if they were true.

    There is a weird place you can literally live your whole life, untouched by reality.

    Seriously.

     

    I did it for 46 years.  

     

    Where you don't have the ability or space to question your thoughts and challenge your beliefs to go back and delve into systems you were raised in – to look at a wider deeper lens into your own life.

    To see see things as they are, not as your mind believes they are.

    Because I came from a religion that set itself up like a cult, where sameness was needed. Where rules and sins were in place to keep order and fear of hell made following the rules imperative. I see so many people lost in their minds and they don't even know it. Just as I was.

     

    Health and happiness is when you can break free of the mind and see things as they are.

    I feel so secure with reality and living what is.

    My body feels peace in reality.

    I often wonder when there is so much anxiety if it isn't grounded in a mind out of touch with reality.

    A mind that was created for a reason and then lost touch with the ground.

     

    It is scary to me to see so many lost in their beliefs.

     

    It was interesting to me as I was waking up from the brainwashing, how the lies of the mind felt in the body, compared to the truth of reality.  Bit by bit, I would question my mind and its lies.  Learning more and more how wiley it was.

     

    Unraveling years of denial and blind faith.

    What I know to be true for me, is happiness and health truly come when I live outside of my mind – when I am able to be here now, and accept what reality is serving in this moment of time.  Allowing life to be as it is, like nature.  

    I am one with nature and the nature of even being me.  My mind is now used to witness reality instead of erasing what is. I am happily out of my mind.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • Days for Joy

    Growing up in a large family and being the oldest of 14 – there was much opportunity to pick up the slack.

    Balls were dropped, neglect organically happened due to the sheer numbers.  I was like a sponge – soaking up more and more responsibility.  Lots of what I put myself in charge of, was not mine to carry.

    I was trying to rebalance a world that was tipped out of control.

     

    It feels like I have been caring for kids since I was a kid. 

     

    Or more, being responsible for others responsibilities – and what is more true – I lost view of my own responsibilities.

     

    I am responsible for what I take on.

     

    I am also responsible for what I don't share – of hogging the responsibilities.

     

    In childhood, there was no option, if I didn't step up the balls would have laid on the floor – balls of humanity – a child's need.  The absence of caring adults left me feeing alone, overwhelmed and unseen myself.  But I had to put my needs aside for the critical needs of babies/children.

     

    My generation of grandmothers seem to be doing lots of grandchildren watching. Whether it is full-time or part-time. I don't recall my mother's generation doing this. It was often, 18 and out, and once the home was empty of children, they were Scott free.

     

    I don't know what has changed – perhaps it is the women – but often we become the secondary caregiver to our grandchild.

     

    I almost believe because many of us are still quite capable and are young grandparents – if not by age; but by energy.  We can fill the gaps quite easily.

     

    I also know what it feels like to have the weight of responsibility and not having someone to hand it off to, being the responsible one.  It can suck the fun out of your life.

     

    Raising children is a serious business and one that requires responsible folks who care. Almost impossible for one to handle alone.  Which I know is why so many of us grandparents step in.  We do it to ease the burden and to hopefully bring support to both the single parent and child.

    However, we cannot lose sight of our own lives.

    The needs and responsibilities of a child can easily block out our own needs.

     

    What I am learning is to ask for help. 

    This is new.

    For in my childhood home, there was no one to ask – it was overburdened with need and not enough caregivers.

     

    What is also challenging, is I am asking for more free time.

    Time to do what I love to do.

    Asking for space to enjoy life in ways that brings my life – more balance of work and play.

     

    Just knowing I can ask, eases the burden of responsibility.  My job is to ask.

    To feel that playing in my life is worthy of an ask.

     

    I am so grateful that I have a partner who will share responsibility.

    I have a backup.

     

    My heart aches for those who don't.

    And, my heart goes out to the many grandmothers who are out here filling in gaps.  I know it is much harder to do on so many levels. 

    I am hopeful that our sacrifices are not for naught. That both our children and their children will live in a kinder world. Where their experiences will be of generational care. Where they feel the love and care from generations above them.

     

    In my childhood – grandparents were company. They came over for parties and were treated or handled with care. They were old and not able to do chores or help out – they needed help.

    I feel that we are a new generation of grandparents.

    I know some badass grandmothers.

    The ladies I know are actively enjoying the outdoors.

    We have many toys and enjoy doing things together.

    We are trying to fit in our grandmother roles with our adventures.

     

    I believe we are the new role models where you can still have a life.

    Where you can ask for time off to do the things you enjoy.

    To be helpful – but not to get lost in responsibility.

     

    When my overwhelming feelings come – it is when I lose my life.

    My heartbreaks for me as a child. Where my childhood fun was so often neglected – due to being responsible.  

     

    Now I am learning that the child will not suffer if I play.

    The child will be more than okay.  

    There is another adult who cares.

    I love that I can play and that it is okay.

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    I am responsible for the joy I bring to my life.

    And, I am responsible for when my life becomes unbalanced.

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    There are moments to be responsible for others and then, moments to be responsible for self.

     

    We are the lucky grandparent generation – for we are able to do so many things with our grandchildren – so many adventures and showing them that being old is fun.  We can even make the caring days – fun days. 

    To all the badass grandmothers out there who are going beyond – make sure to ask for days for joy!

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • I Celebrate Individual Freedoms

    On this Independence Day, most will celebrate Freedom – and I believe there are many who cannot see beyond their own choices; in religion and love, and I guess politics.  They want to color the whole world so it reflects their own choices.

    Many never have practiced freedom and yet celebrate it like it is something they know intimately.

     

    I wasn't able to know freedom until I knew what not being free was.

    Freedom begins in the mind.

    With our thoughts and beliefs.

     

    For so many years I believed that others needed to change.

    Others needed to do things differently

    Love different,

    Be different,

    Believe different,

    Act different.

    Coming from sameness of being in a conservative cult like religion, I wanted everyone to be the same.

    Same felt right. Different felt wrong.

     

    When so many wave their freedom flags, what they really want is sameness. They don't want US to be free, they want us to be like them. Often many have minds and thoughts/beliefs that will not allow those unlike them to be free.  

     

    It wasn't until I was unlike my old church, that I understood this.

    I was now one that wasn't okay.

    I didn't belong

    I didn't think or make the same choices.

    I was different.

     

    They don't celebrate different or embrace and love different.

     

    Freedom isn't conditional – just as many love with conditions, they 'grant' freedom with conditions.

     

    It feels most awkward this year to be celebrating freedom – when choices are constricted.

    At best it is half freedom day.

    Where males are more free than women in our country.

     

    Christians want their religion to be free – while they put constraints on other beliefs.

     

    I am pretty certain, the more certain you are about your religion and your beliefs – the less you allow others the freedom to believe differently.

     

    So many of us were born into conservative thinking and beliefs, in a male dominated home. Born in captivity and celebrating freedom. Freedom few truly know the meaning of.

     

    The cage is invisible – yet like an iron curtain in their minds.

     

    Practicing freedom means you allow everyone to be free to be themselves, the freedom of choice, voice and action.  Freedom is an individualize way of being. Where power is on the individual – not overruled by a group.

    I had to look up the definition

    "the power or right to act, speak, or think as one wants without hindrance or restraint."

     

    So often the ones who are screaming freedom and my body – my choice are the ones trying to restrain others from being free.

     

    The flags many are waving are restraint bands.

    They want to take away rights from others – so their beliefs and religions appear more right.

    The more freedom of choice we have, the more awkward their religion.

     

    While their freedom of religion and freedom of independence seems to be what they want – what they really want is for us NOT to be free.

     

    They want us to fall into line step behind them. To be and do as they do.

     

    If only Independence Day was about independent individuals.

    I have to look up independent.

    ": not subject to control by others : self-governing."

     

    This is freedom.

     

    Those outside of the church and religions, want the freedom from being controlled – we don't want your beliefs.  And yet those inside beliefs are trickling outside – and restraining freedoms.

     

    We don't want to be under the same controls that you all are.

    We want self-governing.

    That is freedom.

     

    If you are in conservative, cult-like, overreaching religion. You don't know freedom at the root level.

    Perhaps what you are cheering for is your church and beliefs.

    But you are not cheering for those outside of it – to be allowed the same.

     

    Freedom isn't just one way.  One right way. One right Church. One right love. One right freedom.

    Freedom includes everything.

     

    I wish we were really celebrating everyone and all choices.

    That is an Independence Day I could celebrate.

    I truly want total freedom for all.

    Individuals who are free – are peaceful, loving and kind.

    For they want for everyone the rights to be themselves.

    No matter how it appears.

     

    The more we allow everyone their freedom, the more empowered each individual would be.  

    When you take away someone's power you are making them less.

     

    What seems like an oxymoron, the more freedoms you give someone, the more powerful they become.

    Today I would love to celebrate the freedoms of everyone – but we are not all free.

     

    Our country may be free from outside rule; but within the country we are losing individual rule. We cannot be a free country when our individuals are not free.

     

    They speak of separation of church and state. We actually need separation from other individuals.

    We need total empowerment on the individual level.

    America is only as free as the one who has the least amount of rights.

     

    The strength of any group is as strong as its weakest member.  

    My freedom allowed the rest of my house to be free.

    We are strong by our individual strengths.

     

    I celebrate individual freedom.

     

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  • You do not stand alone.

    I stood up for a child.

    My child.

    My 4 children.

    I stood for my siblings.

    I stood for their kids.

    I stood for the little girl inside of me.

    I stood for children everywhere who have been waiting for someone to stand and object.

    For someone to see the monsters in their lives.

    For someone to hear their voices.

    For one ear and one eye show them they are not alone.

     

    I stood alone.

    I stood shaking

    I stood not knowing.

    I stood.

     

    What does this look like in reality?

    What does it take to put a child first?

    What does first really really mean?

     

    I know I am triggered and reacting to the ways some are 'showing' they care for a child.

     

    Here is the deal.

    I am a daughter who nobody stood for.

    I am a member of a church that didn't stand.

    The children in my family and neighborhood and church – had no one stand for us.

     

    And, here is another deal.

    I stood – when I became aware of sexual abuse within my childhood home.

    I stood shaking in horror and disbelief. 

    I stood against my father.

    I stood against my mother.

    I stood against the church who blessed his sins away.

    I stood against the ministers who knew and blessed him too.

    I stood against the neighbors who knew and kept their kids a way.

    I stood against my siblings who supported a father in various ways.

    I stood against my siblings who supported my mother.

    I stood up and walked away.

    I walked away from the excuses, the reasons, the wanting to be part of the church, the family….

    You can't be for a child halfway.

    This IS black and white.

     

    You are either helping the perpetrator or not participating in it.

     

     

    This is what standing for a child looks like.

    You don't get to decide who you stand against.

    You stand for the rights of a child.

    You stand for the innocence of the child.

    You stand for their mental health – for they think they are crazy and messed up – not that their family and church is.

     

    I know I am not addressing the unborn child.

    I am talking about how do you prioritize a child who is living – in your home – in your family – in your church. How are you showing them you stand against abuse and for a child?

     

    Standing by a child isn't just words.

    You can't stand for a child by boycotting companies that support a woman's choice.

    You can't stand by a child – only IF it doesn't require you to lose your faith.

     

    Here is another deal.

    My mother has held on dearly to her faith  -

    Dearly.

    More dearly than how she held a child.

     

    How do I know this.

    I am her child.

    While she quickly defended her faith and her husband.

    She never not once defended me.

     

    Standing for a child was not her way.

    Standing for a child requires you to have nothing placed before them.

     

    What I can't articulate enough is the cost of innocence and what that does to a child.

    We grow up feeling we are not enough, we are not valuable etc.

    We don't know what it feels like to have a warm soft feeling inside about who we are.

    We have been man handled and treated with such disdain by ALL the adults who could have stopped it. So many knew/know and do nothing.

     

    I stood and gave names to the Houghton County Detective.

    But, what could he do.

    I stood and spoke out loud about sexual abuse and estrangement.

    I stood and more are now standing with me.

     

    Yet, they are also ones who have left the church and often their families.

    You don't get to stand for a child when it is convenient  - or comfortable or without a personal cost.

    In fact you may lose everything to save one child.

     

    You have to put your own life aside – for the child has to come first.

    My life as I knew it – shattered.

    I would never be the same – thank God.

     

    It was and has been my greatest achievement to have stood up against abuse and stood with the child.

     

    Again I get it – I am talking about children who are already born. Living – and the ones I am talking about are the ones who had no voice.  

    Similar to the unborn the faithful women are talking about.

     

    Perhaps it is much much easier to stand for an unborn child – unknown – detached from your own life and the legacy of church and family – than it would be to literally change the patterns within your own faith community and family of origin.

     

    My old church the First Apostolic Lutheran Church and the offshoots of it – and the lineage pretty much – all share one common theme. Sexual abuse of its youngest members.  And, if the women are not willing and able to be up in arms about them.  There is now way in hell I can see them standing in line to parent the children that may now be born.

     

    In life we can know how things will turn out by past behaviors.

    For past behaviors are predictors of the future.

     

    I am the oldest girl and my abuse happened oh 55 years or so ago.

    I stood up and walked out about 17 plus years ago.

    As I sit here today, very little has changed.

     

    Abuse still happens.

    Silence still echoes.

    Support for the perpetrator still happens.

    Children are not even close to being first.

     

    I often wonder how heaven will be for these faithful women. How they will be able to enjoy paradise knowing the cost of getting there was borne by the children. 

     

    I no longer believe that heaven is when we die.

    And, I know hell does exist.

    But it is here already.

     

    I had to look up Faith. For I was wondering what would shatter theirs.

    "complete trust or confidence in someone or something."

    Since I was them – what I know is that we wholeheartedly believe what we believe, even if what we believe is wrong.  

    My faith shattered when I was able to see a truth I hadn't seen.

     

    It was my innocence.

    When someone saw the monster I felt my father to be. I was set free.

     

    Which is why I keep writing – when I feel there is a gap in the dialogue – when I feel this voice needs to be spoken.

     

    What I know for sure is that if we can stop the cycles of abuse, if each family can start flipping the patterns, we will have less abuse, more love and awareness. 

    The blind faithful will not be the change we need in the world.

    We need women who will stand with the children; let's start with the ones who are already born.

     

    I stand with those who are already standing.

    Who have stood and walked the walk.

    May this trend keep moving and growing.

     

    In these moments where women feel helpless – you are not.

    We need awareness, kindness, compassion, empathy. We need to hold the world in balance.

    We need more love, joy and peace.

    We can be parent we wish we had.

    We can be the adult who knows and stands up.

     

    I stand with those who stood up in their own lives. I know the cost.

    We are badass, strong, resilient, resourceful, courageous, and loving.

     

    I heard on a podcast that humanity always bends towards kindness – the arch as seen in hindsight.

    I have to believe this is true.

    We are part of those pulling things back towards kindness.

    You know who you are.

     

    The counter measure toward injustice will be doing the opposite.

    Pull hard to sway humanity back into balance.

     

    I send loving kindness to those faith full women who know not what they do.

    And I send love and strength to those who are already standing.

    You do not stand alone.

     

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    When I saw this picture it seemed to fit.

     

     

  • Covering Up?

    I think people think, that the hardest part of speaking up about sexual abuse is the speaking up. The harder part is not being believed.

    My voice and my words appear powerless, and the benefit of the doubt goes to the pedophile or person doing red flag behaviors, and even to the silent ones who know.

    And those who speak of it – somehow – are made to be the ones insane.

    Our character, motives, opinions etc are questioned – not why the others are silent or the actions of the abuser.

     

    My speaking up is worse than the actual person doing the abusing.  

    I am seen as slandering the family. I am the one wrecking the image of the family.  Not the ones who are actually abusing children and the ones who are silent about it.  It is so backwards, it is insane. I am the problem, not that there is a problem.

     

    This dance has been going on for generation upon generation.

    The pedophiles do not act alone.

    Those who are silent form an impenetrable wall around the abuser. 

    They are silent to protect his innocence.

    Silence is golden for the abuser, and dangerous for innocent children.

    And, if you speak up about the abuse – people move away from you.

    You become isolated – while the abuser is kept within the tight circle of family.

     

     

    In order for abuse to continue it needs a few key participants.

    Or maybe just one.

    Silence.

     

    What is the Ellie Wiesel's quote,

    "The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing."

    And, another one that is applicable.

    "We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor; never the tormented."

     

    In the dynamics of families who have abusers in the mix, everyone picks a side.

    The only innocent bystander is a child – an innocent child who believes that the adults in her/his world will keep them safe. That they are safe with family.

     

    You can either stand on the side of the abuser or his victims.

    There is no in-between space to be.

    You are either speaking out or being silent.

     

    Silence is a crucial and key part of the dysfunctional family.

     

    I have lived on both sides now.

    And, I don't even know how to articulate the vast differences in both lands.

    I have rightly been accused of being silent for 46 years.

    I was part of the problem.

    I denied my denial.

    I denied my own abuse.

    I had to look up denied. "State that one refuses to admit the truth or existence of"

    Yes I refused to admit my own truths and the existence of abuse within our family.

     

    Keeping up the image of our family being a good one, was hard.  Speaking about abuse is harder.

    I was seen as a good daughter and sister in my silence.

    And, the opposite for speaking out.

     

    And, many would love to see me go silent again.

    To stop talking.

    Stop writing.

    Stop being.

    Just stop, so we can have our loving image of family.  

     

    Will my silence make it so?

     

    It is interesting the team of silence keepers compared to the tiny crew of those speaking up.

    When they say silence is deafening, it truly is. It drowns out the screams of abuse.

     

    I had thought that one person could matter. That one voice could break the trance of denial. That one eye who saw the truth, would be enough.  I was wrong.  I didn't calculate the strength of silence.  The sheer volume of those unspeaking.

     

    The chorus of silence is overpowering -creating a false innocence. And the lone voices speaking up are seen to be insane, family haters, slanderers, folks who don't care….- feel free to toss in your own opinion of me.

     

    Perhaps it is easier to disown me and my voice – than it is to disown their own family.

    I had to look up "disown".

    "Refuse to acknowledge or maintain any connection with."

     

    I totally feel disowned – due to me speaking up.  And, it isn't me personally; but the truth I speak of.  They don't want to acknowledge it – so it is easier to refuse to acknowledge me. They want to maintain a connection with family and it is easier to disconnect from me.

     

    In the past 17 years I have been speaking out, my biggest hurdle is the strong silent army of silence.

    And, sadly they don't realize that their silence is the very thing that a child believes is free of danger.

    The child believes that silence means nothing is there.

    How could a child know that underneath the silence is an abuser.

    They innately look up to adults and believe they have their best interests at heart.

    The silence of the adults in my world  - allowed me to be abused by my father. 

    The silence of the adults allowed many little girls to be abused.

    The silence became my way of life too – until it wasn't.

     

    My silence cost children their innocence.

    My speaking up is trying to rectify that.

    I was, and am damned on both sides now.

     

    Standing up for abuse, I am finding, is endless.

    You don't just get to speak up once.

    Each time another generation comes along, so do new abusers.

    That is the only logical way abuse flows from generation to generation.

    There is through line.

    An orchestrated dance of doing exactly what the generation before you did.

    You will get the same results.

     

    Abusing and silence are the dance partners for generational abuse. One simply wouldn't survive without the cloak of silence. 

    You know what is weird - you would think in the war or battle against abuse, you would be battling the abusers.  Instead who your greatest opponents are, are the silent ones.

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    What is the silence covering up?

     

  • What you pray for, I hope you find.

    My mother sends her annual card – for my birthday. I should almost go back and look at the message on all 17 cards since we have been estranged.  Anyway, she says, "Pray you find peace and contentment in your retirement years."

    Through social media, she knows more of what is going on with me; than I her.

    However, she doesn't know my feelings.

    The most important ingredient.

     

    What struck me is that she believes that I am without peace or contentment – that when I left our relationship – suffering followed.

    I believe it is rare for a relationship to break when there is peace, love and joy.

    Relationships break when those are absence.

     

    We leave to find peace.

    To be where our souls can settle into contentment.

    A place where love can grow and heal the pains of our pasts.

     

    We don't leave to suffer; although we do.

    It is painful to recognize that those who you called family could hurt you.

    It is not easy to walk away – but it would have been much harder to stay.

     

    What is sad, is that she prays for my peace and contentment – when she had a hand in hurting me.

    Peace and contentment is found in a loving home with loving parents.

    To pray that I find it outside of the family circle is so weird to me.

     

    The good news is that I have found it.

    Peace and contentment were not hers to give or to pray for.

    They were mine to be earned as I walked my truth.

    As I did the hard shit.

     

    I found my peace speaking with shaking legs and voice.

    I found my peace staying away from those who abuse or are passive with abuse.

    I found my contentment with my life – eventually.

     

    And yet each year she comes in with a reminder of who she is.

    On my birthday, she wants to make sure I know she is my Mom; always.

     

    Really?

     

    The peace and contentment I needed as a child – you allowed to be shattered.

    As a mother, you failed.

    When I needed it the most.

     

    What you pray for, I hope you find.

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  • Kept Quiet

    A dysfunctional childhood is hard to articulate and explain to others – you feel it is normal – when there is nothing normal about it.  You can't know the difference, when it is all you have ever known. You simply call it family.

     

    Looking back into my childhood and even into adulthood – I don't recall anyone telling me we were messed up – that our family was insane and had abuse cursing through so many generations.  

     

    My mother – who is not mentally well – I saw as one of high morals and values. I failed to appreciate the mental illness of her religion that created a fake reality we called normal.  I didn't see what she forgave – I only saw she was forgiving.  I didn't see what she allowed with each sin she overlooked.

    Even typing this it freaks me out.

    She was as evil as my father – for not reacting to his sexual abuse – by leaving and protecting the children.

     

    The ideals I had in my head about my parents and their religion were all kind – hardworking – with truth and morality baked in. In my head – I had a normal family – but on paper and in reality it was far far from the truth.

     

    Reality is my father on the front page of the paper with the headlines "Criminal Sexual Assault".  That is something you can't forgive and make go away.  It is.  It is more insane to believe a normal family surrounds this man. In any way shape or form.

    If you were raised in this home, you are messed up.

    Our discernment of truth and fiction is all twisted up and backwards.

     

    What is up and what is down – what is right and what is wrong?

     

    As I see my family continue to gather, I know that these sleight of hands are still at play.

    There may be new individuals; but the act and drama of dysfunction are still playing along.

    A new perpetrator(s) and one(s) who supports him/her.

    It can be no other way.

    Sexual abuse within families flows from generation to generation. IT does not die when one abusers dies.

     

    There are new relationships in the old family traditions. 

    The same sentiment is there – where we are kind, we are family, and family gathers.

    Where relationships are built beneath the forgiveness model where reality can and will be swept away.

    Not speaking the truth or being real or seeing evil is my family's strength.

    My mother's blindness defined her.

     

    The mental dance and drama of dysfunction is just normal life.

     

    The paper and the headlines are long forgotten, rarely talked about or mentioned. Mother and her offspring still gather in the name of family. She perhaps still speaks of being "grateful we are all here together" and she is.

    Each one who continues on 'playing normal' make her normal and not insane.

     

    I – who stand outside of this drama trauma dysfunctional play – am seen as weird, odd, mental, cold, mean, unforgiving and unkind.  

    Oddly, I represent the truth of what lies beneath our family. The sentiments they place on me – aptly describe our family.  

    I was that – until I became aware.

    I am wanting to spare a child – to spare a mother – a father – the pain of not knowing – that our family isn't right.  I don't want them to feel it is okay to bring children into our family. I don't want them to only see a large family of 'nice' people. I want our mental health and emotional brokenness to be known.

    The first thing any new person into our family should know is what the headlines read – how traditionally the children are abused when we gather.

    I have the clippings. I have a file full of 'evidence' of our truths that live in our family tree.

    I wish I was told this when I was young.

    I wish the family albums showed abusers.

    I wish they showed why the ones who left and didn't gather, why they left.

    Instead they were made out to be the cold and indifferent.

    And, then the abusers and their supporters, kind family members. Really Kind???

     

    Too many families pass on heirlooms and treasures – when what they really need to do in order to make healthy generations, is to pass on awareness and boundaries and truth of what is. Abuse of past generations needs to be talked about – shared loud and often.

     

    It seems like a major cruelty to bring in new little ones under the auspices of family fun time.

    When the likelihood of abuse is incredibly high.

    There doesn't appear to have been any child spared thus far.

     

    I am the outlier – the aunt and sister who stays away.

    I can't know what they say about me – but I know what they said about the generation before me.

    "She is cold and bitter and doesn't attend family functions."

     "Very self centered."

    "Who does she think she is."

     

    I don't believe we are mourned or even thought too much about – mostly what they want/need is for family to be family and not to be the story in the headlines. 

     

    I recall many family reunions on my mother's side – I never once recalled a whisper about abuse that lived there. I am not the silent aunts who didn't arrive at the reunions. I am trying to speak to the next generations.  Abuse can only thrive if it is kept quiet.

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  • Flowed for generations.

    The legacy of abuse will not end – the string of denial is strong and tied to friendships and the desire to be accepted and loved. It is coated by fun and painted with holiday traditions. It never looks like it really is.

    When family gathers – my estrange family – what bothers me the most is not the fun I am missing out or the lack of relationships I have with them – what grabs my mind and holds on is the potential for more abuse.

    The ways in which nothing has changed and we are into so many generations now.

    How relentlessly they gather.

     

    And, how family gatherings are ripe for abuse when the family legacy carries that thread.

     

    Those who are in denial – see only family and the fun and memories they make.

    And if they read my words, see me as the mental one – out here worried about the children – still.

     

    My head hurts from trying to find an in.

    A way to say what needs to be heard.

     

    The fun that is seen and participated in block the view from what is going on underneath it all.

    Abusers live for these events too – here they can groom and get to know their new victims.

     

    Children that are brought to these events are innocent of what may happen there.

    Innocent that sexual abuse happens in a family where for generations it has been happening.

    They believe in the innocence of the family – that is not innocent.

     

    I sit outside.

    I am not participating.

    I am the one who is in the wrong.

     

    When you think of sexual abuse to children, you often believe that the adults are innocent too. Yet I know this is not so.  Adults who have been abused are now bringing more children in.  All in the name of family and holiday and memories to be made. All at the cost of new little ones being introduced to the inner thread.

     

    It messes me up – every year – every time they gather – I can't not respond with anxiety and angst.

    There will always remain a part of me that wants to warn – to beg and to ask for the children to be kept away.

     

    I recall, sobbing that no one told us a monster lived in our house. That the neighbors and minister didn't care enough.  Yet, what I didn't know is the echoing circles of denial that keep the family and religion going.

    What I used to think is that they kept the secret secret.

    Instead what they do more is keep the family acting like a family or a religion looking like it has morals and values.

     

    They don't have to talk about the abuse – but they do have to keep the family looking like a normal one.

    They have to keep meeting and gathering.

    Being a family.

    Regardless of what lays beneath.

     

    My body responds with frustration indignation and futile knowing – that no matter what I say to whom and how articulate – family will gather – and grooming of the new little ones begins.

     

    I didn't know that this would ever be part of the healing journey – that I would know – and so many would not.  That not only would I know, but I could speak and not be heard. I could shout it to the rooftops and nothing would change. That I could refrain from attending and it would mean nothing.

     

    In Anita Moorjani's book, "Dying to Be Me" she speaks of seeing the world differently and how often she would feel different than others.  How she had to accept that everyone is on their own journey.

    My lesson is to accept those who are in denial.

    Accept that they want family acceptance and to be in the circle of family, regardless of its contents.

     

    Accept that there is nothing more I can do – for anyone.

    Accept that their choices are beyond my power.

    I also have to accept that something within them feels off.

    That a truth is being denied and their bodies feel it.

    And, that someday, they will be able to live, speak and act from their inner knowing.

    That they will be strong enough to go against the family grain.

     

    I can be the model of stepping out.

    of not participating – in order to put an end to the legacy of abuse.

    I may not be able to even spare all in my own family tree.

    I must accept that too.

     

    My power is limited to me.

    I can only live my truth.

     

    In the past 16 years since my awareness – I bear witness to the legacy of family continuing on heedless.

    I had to look up bear witness – and it means "to show that something exists or is true."

    Perhaps I thought I could show abuse – but instead I show how the legacy continues.

    How abuse gets covered up by family holidays and social gatherings.  How normal it is made to appear.

     

    It is to bear witness to hell – masquerading as family.

     

    There are two viewpoints going on at once – yet only one is ever focused on.

    Only one is ever on display and shown out-loud.

    But the ramifications of the other are in the actual lives lived.

    The dysfunction is not hidden for long.

    The body never lies and the truth leaks out in unsuccessful relationships.

    It is revealed in the un-ease, the awkward at best, displays of love.

     

    Who I was within the family and muffled in denial – and how I loved and lived – is  the complete opposite of who I am today.

     

    I can have empathy and understanding for those who gather wanting the family.

    Yet, I know it is a selfish act. For I know the cost it has on the children.

     

    I drove the van to my parents house – I brought my children – I have been part of the masquerade – I was on stage trying to make that family work – and I know the cost.  My denying my feelings and how my body held the truth – didn't matter.  Abuse didn't care what I denied or did not – it moves and is grateful you arrive and with children.

    I didn't end up with a solid moral family with values.

    I ended up with more abuse.

     

    Sometimes the human journey seems pointless and cruel.

     

    Other times it is perfectly orchestrated.

     

    Those in denial would keep a family going – for their actions are those of someone who isn't aware.

    I looked up denial again "the action of declaring something to be untrue."

    So each time they gather as a family it is declaring that the abuse is untrue.

    For it is an oxymoron for abuse and family to be as one.

     

    One of the main themes in my childhood was keeping up appearances.  The way others saw us.

    And, this trait still goes on today.  I had to be brighter than the darkest abuse that lived in our family.

    Better, cleaner, kinder, to name a few.

     

    Often when my sisters gather they will re-do or clean or declutter a family member's home.

    I see this and feel the desire to add a new layer to the thread of abuse. To cover up to make it shine to bring joy and beauty to a broken family.  For years I helped carry the family and its broken pieces. 

    In awareness I put them all down – and as a wise man once said, in the exact same spot I picked them up.

    Each of us gets to heal our own broken pieces. And, I can't know what it will take to make your awareness shine through.

    I am grateful to the ones who see like I do.

     

    Holidays are not holidays for me – but triggers to all that is still wrong.

     

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    When you poke your head up into awareness for the first time; all you may see are huge messes everywhere – but all it is is the truth your mind denied.

    I feel like this turtle, seeing what so many disregard.

    The truth has legs (from Martha Beck's book "The Way of Integrity" and will not rest, even if you do.

     

    What explodes my mind is I see abuse, while others see love/family.

    What I know is you have no love of self inside, if you can bring a child to a family where abuse has flowed for generations.

     

     

  • Our History

    One little choice can change your world, who you are, what you stand for, and the path you take.

    One little liberty of refusing to wear a mask – has a snowball affect.

    I wonder how many really looked at the outcome of not wearing a mask. Not the daily view; but the one that led to the Capital building.

     

    If you stand up for your liberties by breaking the rules, in order to keep standing, do you have to keep breaking the rules?

     

    When does it stop?

     

    I am in shock and awe of the First Apostolic Lutheran church members and how many have take this route.

    How being lawless and supporting those who are, is now a good thing. 

    A patriot thing.

    An American thing.

    My head hurts trying to make sense of the senseless 

    I just can't figure out their choice making, or the things they rally for, or against.

     

    Yet, mostly, I am affirmed.

    My experience with some folks within the church(es) has been one of sheer confusion.  And, maybe it was my naive or innocence in who I thought they were, compared to who they really are.

     

    Just as it seems like a no-brainer to wear a mask and help reduce the spread of the virus and help business stay open, they go on the opposite end; assuring longer closures and more spreading.

    They speak of their liberties – like they have full power of their lives, their bodies and minds. When in fact, the mask wearing was the least among all the liberties they had to lose.

    It is to be standing naked and appalled being asked to take off your hat.

     

    It is hard to see where their minds are and what causes them to act the way they act. Hard to understand the choices they make given the options available.  Whether to align with the laws or go against them.

     

    When I first discovered my sexual abuse, I discovered church members knew and did nothing. No thing.

    The very thing you think they would be up in arms about, they sat silently and often worked to keep it quiet.

     

    So, in our minds, we believe that "good" christians will act this way and be on the side of the law.

    When in fact, the opposite is more true.

    Some will dispute this; but we are seeing actions that are showing us who they are.

    As Dr. Maya Angelou says, "People show you who they are; believe them the first time."

     

    I did.

    I am not so in shock of how they are acting; maybe more in shock of the public displays.

    The boldness and arrogance in which they are going against the rules and laws.

    What appears to be anithkical to their religion perhaps is actually the core of who they are.

     

    What is the character of their religion, IF it is okay with rule breaking, or turning a blind eye to the crimes against children?

    A friend suggested that they confuse "leader" with abuser.

    That seems right. That they can't tell the difference from an abuser to a leader Or that their leaders are abusers. So, to them an abusive leader is a leader.

    And, their choice making reflects their confusions.

     

    Again, I am certain there will be many who will dispute this and tell me they know exactly what they are doing and what they are standing for.  That they are being patriotic and stand up for the liberties of all.

     

    There is a sleight of hands in all of this. A place where it switches from standing for liberties and breaking the laws.

    A place where the knifes edge changes the side you are standing on.

    The place where you slip from a law a biding citizens to a law breaker.

    I have to wonder how many folks who break the law ever feel that they are in the wrong.

    How many break laws every day, believing it is their right.

     

    So for the many who feel I am in the wrong; perhaps you and I don't see eye to eye and for that I am grateful for.

    I used to see the world with your mind.

    This may seem very confusing and the ramblings of a mad woman, who is mixing my experience with the church members and how they are acting in a pandemic. I had to write the things that hurt my head.

    What hurt my head, and even my heart are members of a church acting so unkindly.

    I am thankful I am no longer a member.

    I am grateful that I made the choice to mask up, to follow the guidelines and to be on the side of history where I don't have to break laws to keep standing up for my choice.

    And each time the question arises, when we step out in public, we make the same choice OR we can choose again.  

    I also wonder where the other leaders of the church are, the ones who have to be sensing the demise of their reputation as church of morals and values. No one else is speaking up, but allowing the loud group to be their voice. Is it the voice they want to represent them?

    How is that quote. "It isn't the actions of our enemies; but the silence of our friends."

    It feels like many christian organizations or religions who are condoning the no masking, will all lose their morals and values with this pandemic. They will lose being the heart of our communities.  They are instead the ones who are rallying against the agencies who are striving to keep us all safe.

    At the end of the day, we all are going to be seen by how we act.

    You may act as a group, but we all choose alone.

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    And, our choices become part of our history.

     

  • All Used Up

    I have been trying to write about a year in review and there seems to be two years – or two different things going on at once.

    The pandemic is flowing over many months, it is the background noise of this year; but to me it isn't the only thing this year.

    I don't feel that 2020 was a bad year.

    There was 2020 and then the pandemic. I don't think it is fair to lump them together.

    I believe we can choose on which parts of 2020 we want to remember and highlight.

    Judging the year by the virus that arrived, somehow seems unfair for the year.

    Or, by the political divisions that seem to be showcased too often.

    And, we could focus on those who walked in the pandemic differently than us; but we can also choose to remember the ones who walked with us.

     

    I see the year in ways that are much more normal than not.

    Perhaps I have adjusted to this new pandemic lifestyle.

    Maybe being less social suits my personality.

     

    There are family things I did miss; but the family is there and will be there in my future.

    The loss doesn't feel as acute as other losses I have experienced.

     

    My pictures show a year of love.

    The people I love and spend time with.

    And, the many things I love to do.

     

    I see 2020 as another year of being me.

    Where moments turn into days and then months.

    I felt I was still able to decide how I would be in each moment and what I would focus on.

     

    The few weeks of fear – turned into acceptance and compliance – doing my part in the pandemic WHILE still living my life. We had a smaller playground to play in and less people in our worlds; but I feel I still lived.

     

    Travel was greatly reduced and done with more caution than before. We tried to balance the caution of the virus with living.  We made choices we were willing to live with the consequences.

    Dates turned into picnics and car rides.  We still ate out; but with take out.

    I believe a bigger loss would be to have stopped living in the pandemic for it means you lost almost a year.

    Instead I chose to live as loud as I could under new constraints.

     

    2020 was a year to prove how much empathy we held inside, how resilient and creative we are and how adaptable. It was a year to live in a pandemic and not just fear the virus. But, to live in spite of the virus.

    There were also things that were recommended; like taking Vitamin D, of exercise and fresh air, and eating healthier, reducing stress and anxiety. Ways of helping your body be strong and resilient itself – so as to have a better chance if or when the virus arrived.  Those things made me feel empowered and not just waiting to be struck sick.

     

    I see the year of 2020 as becoming a grandma to a little boy.

    I see me going grey.

    I see me getting healthier.

    I see me having more space and less social obligations or stresses.

    I see me enjoying more free time.

    I see me playing with family and friends, doing what I love.

    I see me one year closer to retirement.

    I see me living.

     

    Mostly I see 2020 as a year of opportunities that I said yes to. 

    I didn't miss out on very much.

    Maybe 2020 was the year for introverts and nature lovers; a Good Year.

     

    As the new year approaches, it is my intention to continue to live as if this is my last.

    For, one of the themes I felt this year, was that if the virus was to get me, I had lots of living to do first.

    Perhaps that is how we should always live. For, we don't really know what the end date is.

    2020 for me was a good year.

    2021 is looking good too.

    I am deciding right now to look at the good things, to be resilient and creative with the bad and be grateful for all that I love.

    It is hard to know when one year stops and another starts – for our life flows from one moment to the next. How we spend the moments; become our years.

    I spent mine well.

    They are all used up.

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