I M Perfect lady

Category: Examples of an Imperfect woman

  • I am Able to Respond.

    In understanding another persons walk in life and having compassion for it, doesn’t mean they are allowed to walk all over you, due to their lack of growth if you will.

    Just because my father was abused and went on to abuse, and I know this, doesn’t mean I have to have a relationship with him or allow him into my life.

    In honoring who he is I am completely, 100% in agreement that he is not in his right mind, nor has he ever been healed from his own abuse.

    Honoring his path and allowing him to continue to hurt me are two drastically different things.

    Even in accepting who he is doesn’t mean that I accept bad behavior in my life.  Instead it means I accept who he is and that his CPU about love is completely messed up and that it would be harmful for me and others to be near him.

    I accept that he hurts people.

    I accept it and have put up healthy boundaries.

    He is not allowed in my life.

    I am honoring and completely understanding that he is out of control, so I need to be more in control of my home, my life and me, where he is concerned.

    He has never, not once tried to contract me.  It hasn’t been a tough thing to do.  If there were to be a relationship, it would have had to been me making the effort.  I did not.

    So, as my last post was recognizing the folks who are unable to stand out in the light of day as I am with not only my abuse but with my views on my old religion, I am honoring who they are. 

    I am accepting that it is uncomfortable for them to be out.

    In accepting that, I no longer have this driving desire to yank them out.

    I accept that they want to talk anonymously.

    And on my blog, if they want to comment, it is up to me to control the tone.  I get to have boundaries for folks who speak from the dark or not. 

    They are free to hide and I am free to hide their comments. 

    I sometimes fall back into my old habits of not allowing others to be themselves.  I forget to remember that free will runs both ways.  Sometimes I forget that giving them free will gives me free will.

    My father is being himself, his best representation of a boy who was abuse and went on untreated.  In the dance of life, I would much rather be a victim than an abuser.

    However, if I was an abuser, I would pray that someone would shut me down keep putting up hard boundaries to make it so difficult for me to reach the children.

    We all have responsibilities for our human beings.

    If I am harming others I need to know.

    If others want to harm me, I need to know. 

    I honor who you are and will act appropriately…that is being response able.

    I am able to respond.

     

  • I have listened.

    I had a wise voice talk to me, reminding me of the lay of the land or the overview of us all talking on the blogs, and that there is room for everyone.

    Her message struck me as totally on target, and I could see how there are folks who are not ready to say their name, to be ‘out’ here like I am.

    That in order to talk to them, I may have to duck back in and speak in the dark, until they feel okay to meet with me ‘out’ here.

    I had used the term, “being in the closet” and it does sometimes feel that there are not only abused people hiding in there, too afraid to talk about their abuse, but it seems too that there are abusers hiding there as well.

    Meaning under the cloak of secrecy, and for different reasons, they are all hiding who they really are.

    What I failed to appreciate is that while I am trying to yank them out here to be with me, I need to meet them half way. 

    It is not helpful to be forceful.  Our tug-o-war was getting us nowhere.

    While I am yelling louder they are shrinking further back and that isn’t what I wanted this blog to be about.

    I do want it to be a place for all.

    My fear was speaking to the unknown. But you have reasons I can’t know.  And if I want to hear your side, I must allow you to be in the dark.

    The trick here is to speak from our side and not assume the others position.

    If we position each sentence or feeling with the word “I”.

    With you feeling safer in hiding and me feeling safe in full view, we can figure a way to work together. 

    I recall reading in a book about the caterpillar changing into a butterfly, if you force it to leave the cocoon too soon, its wings will be too wet to fly and it will die.

    We all fly in our own time.  I apologize for my loudness and empathic words and shouting about my journey…And me not realizing you will open the door on your journey in the right and perfect time for you.

    I have been told and I have listened…

     

     

  • I have listened.

    I had a wise voice talk to me, reminding me of the lay of the land or the overview of us all talking on the blogs, and that there is room for everyone.

    Her message struck me as totally on target, and I could see how there are folks who are not ready to say their name, to be ‘out’ here like I am.

    That in order to talk to them, I may have to duck back in and speak in the dark, until they feel okay to meet with me ‘out’ here.

    I had used the term, “being in the closet” and it does sometimes feel that there are not only abused people hiding in there, too afraid to talk about their abuse, but it seems too that there are abusers hiding there as well.

    Meaning under the cloak of secrecy, and for different reasons, they are all hiding who they really are.

    What I failed to appreciate is that while I am trying to yank them out here to be with me, I need to meet them half way. 

    It is not helpful to be forceful.  Our tug-o-war was getting us nowhere.

    While I am yelling louder they are shrinking further back and that isn’t what I wanted this blog to be about.

    I do want it to be a place for all.

    My fear was speaking to the unknown. But you have reasons I can’t know.  And if I want to hear your side, I must allow you to be in the dark.

    The trick here is to speak from our side and not assume the others position.

    If we position each sentence or feeling with the word “I”.

    With you feeling safer in hiding and me feeling safe in full view, we can figure a way to work together. 

    I recall reading in a book about the caterpillar changing into a butterfly, if you force it to leave the cocoon too soon, its wings will be too wet to fly and it will die.

    We all fly in our own time.  I apologize for my loudness and empathic words and shouting about my journey…And me not realizing you will open the door on your journey in the right and perfect time for you.

    I have been told and I have listened…

     

     

  • Reasons to Spin

    While dialoguing in the comment section on the Post, “Where Your Best Interest Lies” a few posts back, I am feeling like I am a reporter trying to get my story out and they are working like crazy Spin Doctors or the Public Relations Department of the FALC to prevent that from happening. 

    They are trying so hard to convince me it wasn’t their ‘faith’ or the church or its members or any of that religious stuff, and that my abuse stands alone, like a rogue virus.

    I feel people are working so hard to spin my story off into this lonely little section called abuse where religion never touched it, blessed it or had ANY thing to do with my abuse. 

    There is abuse, AND there is religion and never shall the two touch each other.

    It is sounding like a political debate where they want there to be two sides. 

    And I am here to tell you in my experience, Religion had a huge part in keeping abuse in my family home.  It did not stay there on its own and without the knowledge of the church.

    There is no way I can speak of my abuse without including the church. 

    In fact, if I had good faith in the forgiveness of sins, I could have had a normal dad.

    If I had good faith in the power of the forgiveness of sins, the sins would be washed away never to be heard from again…

    Maybe you all want to blame my weak faith on the fact that my father kept abusing little girls.  For damn it IF only I could have believed more deeply he could be washed whiter than snow and not hurt one more little girl.

    Do any of you know what it is like to call your childhood friends, now 40 years later and say, “I wish you would not have been my friend, for honey it cost you way too much.”

    Have you?

    Do you know that I recall one bright memory of me being on a huge white pole swing in our yard on a bright sunny summer day, and my dad came to me crying asking ME for a blessing.  Why?  What did he do to this young young little girl whose feet couldn’t even touch the ground.  What???  I don't know if I did it properly…I was way too little. 

    Did I not bless him properly?  Did I not believe it, IS that why he continued on molesting, raping and fondling little girls?  Was my faith to weak in strength to erase it correctly?

    Am I going to hell for being a bad blesser???

    When you question my story, you are saying to me, that I am wrong. Tell me where I am wrong?  Tell me, please and USE your name.

    I believed in a father.

    I believed in a mother.

    I believed in the power of the forgiveness of sins.

    I believed in order to be good, I had to bless bad people.

    I believed wrong…

    And did my ‘faith’ in the forgiveness of HIS sins spare one little girl?  Did it?  Can you put the blame on me?  Did I bless him wrong???

    Oh yeah my faith is weak now, it is actually nonexistent in the power of forgiving and blessing away the sins of the fathers.

    Yes it is.  I believe 100% that it does not work. 

    I am living breathing proof. 

    Where do you all believe these piles of sins are?  Look behind you they walk with you everywhere.  It is only in your mind, that you think they are gone.

    Each and every action you have made is written down in the book of reality seen by God…nothing gets erased ever.

    The only thing you can do is do better when you know better. 

    In the past, I was a good Christian and spoke of it not, not my feelings of terror towards my father, nor my deep down resentment towards my mother, I sucked in and asked to be blessed for being such a bad child to feel unloving toward her parents. 

    I kept trying to be a better child, never even stopping to see if I had parents I should be loving toward. 

    When my father’s name was spoken as being the one to molest my niece, I became a very bad child.  I stood with the little girl and somehow I knew I was standing with me. 

    I stood in reality and refused to bless it away, like I even could.

    This little girl isn’t going to be ‘unabused’ if I utter the magic phrase.

    I am bad, a bad ass, and a bitter, cold, vengeful woman some say.  I will be alone and lonely for saying what I say.  I will be ridiculed and not believed…all the same things I felt as a child.

    As a child I believed them, now as woman who is speaking her truth I do not.

    I have faith in God and me.

    I have faith in truth.

    I have faith is using my real name.

    I have faith in others who can reveal themselves to me.

    The rest, I have no faith in.

    For if you can’t say your name, you are not standing with me, you hiding like my father behind the front of being normal.  Good people don't hide.

    Only those in truth will say their name.  This is my belief and this is my blog.  If you feel differently you can blog yourself and have a great conversation and sharing anonymously.

    Oh and one more thing.

    Someone mentioned I lost the faith in God.

    No honey, God has been with me all along.

    He was the one who erased my memory of the event.

    He kept me being a little girl with out such a horrific thing to remember.  And did however keep my truth in my body, to keep me from going near the man who did such awful things to such a sweet innocent BELIEVING girl.

    Your church doesn’t own God; he is not applauding your spinning my story to make it kind.  He was there and he knew I would not have survived life living in that house with a visual memory, sadly I would have went insane.  Only a child who didn’t know could support that family. 

    I didn’t know… and I put my faith in the folks who were spinning my life to be normal.

    Now I am no longer fooled by the spins, I only see what is behind. 

    Only anonymous have reasons to spin.

     

     

  • Who is saying the words.

    Somehow we all expect people to think, act and feel like us, when in fact we are all on our own separate journey.

    I personally chose not to engage in a conversation on my blog with people who are not willing to let me see their face.

    How many of you would want to discuss your lives with a ‘known’ stranger?  Not a stranger, but someone who knows you but wants to be treated like a stranger. 

    It seems to me that like the klu klux klan you can say things you would normally not say without your sheet.

    The anonymity of you, feels abusive to me, for I am at a disadvantage…you know things about me, that I would know about you, if your revealed yourself to me.

    It is like having ghostwriters.

    I am even finding it odd that not only does the opposition have no names, but so do the supporters.  I personally would love to know who understands and comprehends my journey.

    And the only conclusion I can come up with for hiding is fear.

    Otherwise why hide?  I know one person said that being anonymous prevents being rejected.

    And that is a concept to consider.  Rejection.  Having your own opinion may lead to rejection?  Rejection by whom?

    I even feel that perhaps I would reject some comments if I knew the source, for each time we hear a bit of gossip, we always first consider the source.

    Just because it sounds good, you have to see whose mouth it is coming from.  Words sound different depending upon who is saying them.

    Each of us has relationships and our past experiences with a person will color how the words land upon our ears.  We either know from the past how empty and hollow they are or how solid and firm and trusting.

    While many think it makes no difference that words are words and it matters not who speaks them, trust me it matters.

    Hearing “I love you” from someone who has neglected you and has lived a self absorbed life, falls flat to the floor after ricocheting around inside your heart, looking for warm fuzzy feelings.  And an “I love you” that comes from a mutually loving and trusting relationship snuggles easily inside.

    It matters to me, who is saying the words.

     

  • Control your ears

    What I find so intriguing in having a discussion with half the folks hiding behind a curtain called anonymous is that you feel so brave in calling what we do vindictive or petty or airing our dirty laundry, when you can’t even tell us who you are

    Why are you demeaning us for being so open? 

    When did it become better to hide our truths?

    Or do you only want us to hide dirty things that were done to us? 

    When we hide what was done to us, we take on shame.

    When we expose what was done to us, we become free of shame.

    When I accept what I did, I no longer have the need to hide.

    There is something really wrong about you hiding and yelling at us for being out in the open.

    My brother clued me into why I may be a little gun shy around folks who hide their ‘real identity’, my father hid his from me and my mother hid hers from me.

    I had them pictured much different than how they turned out to be.  And even my siblings. We think we know how others will act, but you can’t know until tried and tested.

    In fact one of the comments on the comment section of the http://extoots.blogspot.com/ blog said “No offense to anyone, just not a church issue to me although if still happening today I know I could count on my fellow brothers and sisters in faith without a doubt!”

    How can ‘anonymous’ be so sure.  Has she ever brought to them that she has been abuse by someone in the church or perhaps family?  That is an untried assumption, without a leg to stand upon.

    And since when is abuse not a church issue?  If the church members are being abused, it is an issue in the church.  And how you all deal with it should be brought up. 

    That is like saying; abuse is not a family issue.

    Here is another thing I want you all to know… 

    What I thought I knew about my family and who they actually were were miles apart.  I was so far off base; in the end my family of 15 shrunk down to one.  One brother and I see this eye to eye.  The rest had a different response and it wasn’t my back they covered, but my fathers and mothers.

    You all presume everyone will take the side of a victim, but I am here to tell you it isn’t so.

    It seems to me that lots of the anonymous people are making assumptions.

    Assumptions about others…

    Assuming they are going to act a certain way when until you are there in real life, you have no clue. 

    Or assuming why others are acting a certain way and assuming this without asking the source for the real reasons.

    And at the same time the anonymous are assuming, we the ones saying our names are Telling you how it really is, and you are not believing us.

    Isn’t it just insane?

    Anonymous people assuming. 

    Named people not assuming but saying what it is.

    And who are most FALC people believing? 

    They seem to have faith in assumptions and anonymous people.

    And disbelief for the ones with experience.

    Yet we are treading on delicate surface here, we are making ripples in the calm waters of what you know to be true in your life so far.  And what we are asking of you is to take our experiences and learn from them.

     

    And what I know for sure is some will and others will need to walk my walk in order to believe.

    It matters not to me who believes and who doesn’t believe that there are pedophiles within your church.  My children are no longer there and my grandchildren most like will not arrive there.  For me, my immediate suffering within the walls of the FALC are over.

    I am saying this to spare you my long walk…but that will be strictly up to you.  How you accept my words is not my responsibility, it is yours.

    You can hear what you want to hear and disregard the rest…you and you alone control your ears.

     

  • “Only folks with something to hide, hide something”

    I was over at http://extoots.blogspot.com/ blog and reading the 38 comments on the post that mentioned my blog, and was struck by the anonymous comments.  And in fact commented, misspelling the word, anonymous. 

    But it got me to thinking about how we use the word and why.

    If someone won’t use their name, can we trust what they say?

    Do you think people speak more truthfully when under an assumed name, or is the content more believable when you use your real name?

    I know that many of the stories in the tabloids are quoted with an anonymous source…and do reputable magazines use anonymous sources to get their info? 

    Why is there comfort or protection in the word anonymous?

    In my opinion, it seems most not only want to remain anonymous, but they also want our abuse to do the same.

    There is a weird twist going on here that seems unclear and confusing.

    So, you either have to change your name and speak the truth or you have to change the truth and use your name…. 

    But to use your name and speak the truth that is just unacceptable and is seen as vindictive… that doesn't make any sense.

    The only conclusion I can possibly come to is that not all are comfortable with their own stories and they want them to remain anonymous, our speaking out threatens their anonymous status.

    For truly, I am not threatened in the least by anyone saying their truth, but I do feel I am being jerked around and used when they speak anonymously.

    The conversation is unfair, it is tilted, and they are jabbing at me while hiding behind a curtain.  I don’t have their full stories, their names, where they live, how they live etc, I just get words without supporting evidence.

    Anonymous allows you to hide who you are, why?

    Why hide?

    What do you have to hide? 

    What do you not want us to know?

    “Only folks with something to hide, hide something” Dr. Phil

     

  • Where Your Best Interests Lie.

    I believe reality or truth stands alone, splendid and perfectly brilliant, and we all see it from our own life experiences.

    The topic is abuse.  We all know what it is.  There are no doubts or contention on that, what we are seemingly arguing about is what side do you stand upon.  What side do you believe or do you believe it at all?

    There is the side of the perpetrator or the side of the person recounting her/his childhood story, whose side do you hear about and what do you hear, what makes sense and what doesn’t make sense, and what does a victim gain by going public and what does the perpetrator gain by being silent and supported?

    Sometimes we pick our side by what we would do.

    What takes more courage to stand alone speaking of the unspeakable in hopes of stopping this insanity or of remaining silent?

    And why do you pick to speak or not to speak?

    Is it fear of who you are or what you have to lose?

    Is it fear of the repercussions or fear of remaining silent and what that is doing to who you are?

    At one point all who read Jim’s story or mine will pick a side of belief of disbelief, and I believe it has nothing to do with our facts or the usage of the English language, which I believe Jim is a natural born story teller.

    I instead believe that the side you stand upon all is predisposed; it is where you have walked in this life.

    It has more to do with what you stand to lose compared to what we have to say.

    How invested is your life in the FALC or in the fact that the Torola’s remain free of abuse? 

    There is very little vested interest in my family for we are converts, a one family family within the church.  No Aunts, Uncles or cousins, just us.  No preachers or founding fathers, no long lineage, just one big family, with only two brothers remaining in ‘faith’. 

    I am thinking we were not important FALC people; our abuse didn’t affect anyone but us.  It didn’t spill over into the faith of anyone or would it wiggle their beliefs.

    It was our dirty little secret in a bubble, a zit on the face of the FALC, but not the make up or integrity of the FALC.

    People reading our stories have more to lose by believing in Jim, than believing in me.  You can believe in me and keep your faith, but when you believe in Jim, your faith begins to wobble; you will have to face the fact that abuse may travel backwards to the creators of the FALC.

    My lineage is of no bearings to you, the only folks who get up in arms about my writing is my family of origin, for they have lots invested in the Huhta name and the integrity of their parents.

    Interesting to see that you will fall to the side where you best interests lie.

     

  • To Be Fearless.

    Inside of me resides the shadows of a very mental woman; she lurks in the background of my life.  I have worked very hard to keep her back there and not let her come roaring to the front wreaking all havoc.

     

    When my children make choices that are not my choices, or what I would like for them, she is BEGGING loudly to get involved.

     

    She would love nothing more than to toss a few choice words around, belittle, berate, and demean them.  She loves to rant and rave and direct others to do things to make her happy or feel safe or right or in control… she is the queen of all bitches.

     

    My mind gets crammed full of what her desires are, she eclipses my present moment like a very dark cloud, her wants and desires are mostly her fears and they rain down within me.

     

    I have to wrestle inside of me to shut her up.  To not weaken and let her have her way in my world, for when she does, it doesn’t come out sounding sweet nor does it fall gently upon my children.

     

    For almost 7 years now, I have fought to gain a foothold in front of her, to shut my mouth and keep her inside, to face my fears of abandonment alone, to not let escape even one sentence of hers.

     

    If she speaks, it is only to control others for her own happiness; she steals their lives and makes them her own.

     

    My hardest walk ever is to be silent, to give my viewpoint and then let go.  To release each and every person, related or not, into their lives, no matter how their choices make me feel.

     

    If my happiness is found by their choices, I am dependent upon them for my happiness.

     

    It can’t matter a bit if I am sad, devastated, lonely, or unhappy.  My state of being is about me, not them.

     

    If they make choices with a gauge on how it makes me feel, I am teaching them to be a co-dependent, and that their choices should NOT hurt others or make others feel bad.

     

    That is how I raised my children until they were in their teens, and now I am teaching them the opposite. To do what they want, no matter how it makes me feel.

     

    Instead their decisions have to be what they want and they are to be gauged by their own happiness not mine.

     

    And the way I am teaching this is to let them make choices that fill me with fear, trepidation, anxiety, loss, etc.  I have to let them learn who people are by themselves.  I am unable to forbid them; I have to let them go.

     

    My childhood home reflected the ways of the church, that our lives were not our own to live.  Our lives had to please and conform to another’s happiness or fall into the category of what a good Christian does and what a good child does.

     

     

    When I sit with the thoughts still about how many are unable to move independently, I greatly understand, for I too used to live this way.  Frozen unable to move for the fear of wrath to go against the mainstream of how we were raised.

     

    Unable to go against them for we are seen as bad and we fear that if we are bad enough, they will push us out and away.

     

    How binding to live this way. To be too afraid to move knowing it is going against the ideals of people in charge.

     

    As you sit, you teach your children to sit.

    As you act to please others, you teach your children to give up their lives.

     

    I know how hard it is to find a voice and use it that doesn’t match what others want or need. 

     

    But the only way I began to live free of the mental woman inside of me was to go against all that I was raised to be.

     

    To say and do things that make others unhappy for my own peace of mind, for doing what was right for me.

    To speak of things I used to be silent about.

     

    It wasn’t that I wasn’t afraid.  I was terrified, but I did it anyway.  Being fearless is knowing you are afraid, but doing it anyway.

     

    As I see so many silently sitting and knowing…I wonder when they will decide independently, that now is the time to be fearless.

     

  • Waiting to be told.

    I thought came to me why no one is asking, why no one is making an independent move,for they all are waiting to be told.

    Not told there is a pedophile, but told what to do.

    As far as I remember, the church was setup and families set up for there to be one dominating figure, be it God, Father or husband.  It wasn’t a place where individuals were able to think for themselves or act independently, it was driven by the Head.

     The Head of the church or of the family makes the decision….we wait for the okay.

    And the Head, which we have approached, are not interested or responsive. 

    It is my humble opinion that they will sit in the pews waiting instruction from on high.  And I feel to the depths of my bones, it will not come from that direction.

    When my children  have choices to make I offer them my viewpoint and then I say, honey, this is your life and your choice, you will have to make the ultimate decision, it is not something I can do for you.

    And I can see them weighed heavy by the choices, and we both wonder what will their minds and desires tell them to do.

    As I was pondering my oldest daughter and a choice that has arrived in her world, it came to me that many in the FALC, haven’t ever been given the liberty of choice.

    The church has always made the choices for them. 

    Wear this, don’t wear that.

    Listen to this, don’t listen to that.

    Don’t watch TV, don’t go to Movies.

     Go forth and multiply.

    What I feel down deep is that they are waiting for directions on this, from the pulpit, from the boards or the leaders within. 

    And I also feel this is beyond what the Leaders have been prepared for, have been taught or educated on.  This is out of their league, and damn it, it would be wonderful if they would just say so, instead of saying and doing nothing.

    Saying and doing nothing will not change the outcome.

    There needs to be a fearless leader to stand up and take charge, or the church will decay and fall apart from the inside out. 

    It was always preached that the devil lurked outside of this religion, now is the time for them to stop looking outward and instead look within.

    It pushes me into my chair, to believe that many fine folks are doing nothing, because they are waiting to be told.