I M Perfect lady

Tag: abuse

  • Holistically I see me.

    I had images of myself yesterday, the woman I had become from being left untreated in abuse. How backwards I viewed life, myself and how I treated others was indicative coming from whence I came.

    Today while trying to write out the differences between living from love and living from fear, I stumbled upon a sentence that said, “Untreated abuse is abuse that isn’t seen”.

    Imagine all it takes to treat abuse is to see it.

    Just see it.

    I was able to crawl to the surface by one child echoing what I had felt about my father, she saw what I saw; we both saw or felt abuse.

    I am not sure how her treatment went from that point on, for when they treated her monster as a father, she was left confused. I lived in that confusion for 46 years.

    I find great peace in knowing that treatment for a child is seeing the abuse and acting in kind.

    All your actions from that day forth have to be indicative of dealing with a monster not a dad.

    I know, from my own Monster experience, that the key in killing what ruled me was to see it.

    To see the total make up of this monster, to see the triggers, the cause and the affect, to gain control over the monster that lived within me.

    This monster was created from Untreated abuse.

    Imagine.

    The word Holistic came to mind…and I looked up the meaning.

    1. analyzing whole system of beliefs: characterized by the view that a whole system of beliefs must be analyzed rather than simply its individual components
    2. considering all factors when treating illness: taking into account all of somebody’s physical, mental, and social conditions in the treatment of illness.

    When folks talk about holistic treatments for illness, they usually speak of natural substances to treat the affects, but rarely look at what the cause was.

    Holistic to me is to look at the whole person, to see the whole view of where they traveled and whom they traveled with, what they were taught and how that fits into reality.

    I am thinking that just like religion is learning about God and Spirituality is experiencing God, there is an equal space between trying to apply natural remedies upon an unnatural life.

    An unnatural life for me would be to live like I was never abused. A more natural life would be to live as an abused girl. And the holistic approach is to see all the aspects of abuse and to feel that there was no part of my life that it didn’t touch, it isn’t just a mole in my life, but my life.

    I love that I know two things now, that seeing abuse is treatment and to see all points of my life, is living holistically.

    I grew naturally into an unnatural person in the land of abuse.
    I was born right side up and was flipped and then tried to act normal from an unnormal place.

    Holistically I see me.

    IMG_5627

    This tree and me are one…I have such great love and compassion for how it grew and stands tall with its roots showing!

  • Love without Hurt.

    What I didn’t know was that my distrust of kindness and love, was actually fear, that love to me was very wobbly and had lots of sharp edges and was ever changing, it was smooth and calm one minute, but filled with rage or hurtful the next, I didn’t know that love didn’t have a hurtful side.

    To me, Love hurts. If not now, it is coming so prepare it room! There was no time in my life that love didn’t eventually turn to hurt, turn to mistrust, turn to betrayal…so, Love Hurts, eventually.

    In fact the people I loved were people with two sides.

    They had the side of trying to be good, be better, be kinder and then the side that failed.

    We were taught to forgive the failing side and to focus on the trying side.

    I was taught that all folks had this Light and Dark side, and that you overlooked (forgave) their darkness and put them back in the Light.

    It wasn’t focusing on the Light that did the damage, but overlooking the dark side.

    This dark side seemed to be forgivable, because it was uncontrollable, its animalistic ways were beyond human control, it rendered many a man helpless.

    It was a sin, that seemed to come in from the outside, but it wasn’t really them. A happenstance, but not of them, so do not throw a person away due to bad behavior. Forgive and forget, until the next time…

    These sins were just clouds that happened by and you got caught in them, it wasn’t something you had control over and within each human was a weak spot.

    A spot colored in by whatever ‘bad’ behavior they didn’t have control over.

    It is this spot that I have spent 6 years investigating within me, and it isn’t a spot, but my whole pathology of becoming me, a monster whose love was nothing but fear.

    I began to dissect all my relationships and all my actions to see what was what, only to discover, unbeknownst to me, I never met love, not the real love, the love that doesn’t change love, the real genuine thing.

    I was a stranger to real love. I had never felt real love, for within me lay fear. If you are full of fear you can’t feel love, all you feel is fearful.

    Fearful it won’t last, fearful it will betray you, unease and afraid, you sit with fear by love.

    My journey has been to climb out of the hole of fearful love, as a monster of fearful love and then in the Light of day, learn what love is.

    It was scary to show the world that I am fear, that I do fearful things, that I come from fearful places and have wounds of fear and that for 46 years I had no clue what love was, and was loveless inside.

    I had such empathy and love for my monster of fear while I was so inept at what love does, how love feels, where love goes, how it speaks, how it listens, how it lives.

    How grateful am I that I was able to transition from a fear-based life to one that is embracing love.

    That saddest part of being the monster of fear is that you feel you are handing out love, compassion, caring while you are sowing seeds of fear.

    I had to feel the icy water drip into me after I had transformed myself, to really understand this monsters message.

    When my daughter’s abuse presented itself to me, I had post traumatic like behaviors, I vacillated between fear and love, and I felt the calm peace and acceptance of love and the wild terrorizing bitter cold fear, and watch the affects both had on my daughter.

    My brave little daughter was caught in the maelstrom of this fear filled love monster.

    What an incredible transformation and what a roller coaster ride, for all who live with me, myself include, to get to just one side of love.

    Love without hurt.

  • A place for me to stand.

    The stressful thought is if my husband does nothing or if my husband supports friends of this cheating husband, my daughter will not be able to find her integrity, that he is a sign post of ambivalence.

    I looked up the meaning of ambivalence.

    1. conflict of ideas or attitudes: the presence of two opposing ideas, attitudes, or emotions at the same time
    2. uncertainty: a feeling of uncertainty about something due to a mental conflict
    The coexistence of opposing attitudes or feelings, such as love and hate, toward a person …

    Do you know, I did not know that ambivalence was uncertainty or the coexistence of opposing attitudes.

    I thought ambivalence was more like indifference or a knowing and not caring.

    Ambivalence is exactly what my husband shows, conflicting ideas or attitudes.

    And his ambivalence has me feeling uneasy and even my viewing him in a new light has put me in my own place of ambivalence towards him.

    I no longer am sure of my feelings towards him.

    My ambivalence is showing.

    It seems we feel ambivalent when there are conflicting positions both within him as well as between him and I or visa versa, ambivalence abounds.

    We can’t know how this all ends, for it all depends on what we pick and what we have to compromise on and what is being asked in front of our integrity.

    I believe it is easier to sit with ambivalence, undecided, unknowing, than it is to sit with knowing and not caring.

    I understand the wrestling match that can go on for a long while, for we continually compromise small things in order to get along, but there does seem to come a time when all bets are off, when the relationship is asking too much or we lose too much to maintain that relationship.

    My husband’s experiences in life hasn’t required him to divorce folks who were asking him to chose his innocence over the man who abused him.

    And in fact my learning how to walk away from an abusive family has strengthened my knowing that relationships can cost you your self. And sometimes in order to save yourself, you have to walk away.

    We have lived with much ambivalence in the past 6 years for sure, in fact we learned to not promise love, but I love you today, for we understood that love is an individual and personal thing, and there does come a time, when we part to save ourselves.

    I can’t predict the outcome, but I can see the ambivalence line waving in front of us, the line is there and which side will we pick?

    While my husband sits in ambivalence, I have already chosen my side, and I am not sure what or if I will be asked to compromise or if I will know it is time to go.

    Interesting to know that I am not anxious or wanting to control, but that I am feeling the feelings of ambivalence.

    The feelings of unknowing which way this will go.

    And if our relationship can handle the outcome, but what I do know is that so far I have always been further ahead leaving and maintaining my sense of integrity.

    My ambivalence is he being ambivalent and not choosing sides, but you know, this is his greatest feature, to slide and not chose sides.

    Is that possible to not have to pick?

    To live in ambivalence?

    I used to live there, so I guess it is, until the Universe asks you to choose, you can live in both places, get along with both sides, float over the line unless there are repercussions, no harm is done.

    Maybe he never has to pick.
    Maybe that isn’t his way, but it appears to be mine.

    I am grateful I am no longer lost in ambivalence, I am happy I found a place for me to stand.

  • Be you alone.

    Yesterday I was asked if I felt lonely and I felt inside of myself and I didn’t, but I understood lonely and have been there often.

    Yet what I failed to understand until I started writing today was that lonely is seeking that part of ourselves that were wounded in childhood. It isn’t so much someone, but a part of us that is missing. We are lonely for ourselves.

    I was writing along and discovered that my meaning or my view of a childhood wound was neglect, sexual abuse, damage, something awful, but do you know what it really is?

    If you look at this from the point of view of what the child lost instead of what happened to them you would discover that the wound is something missing, not something added to who we were.

    It isn’t that we now carry rape and its disgusting features, especially if you were a child and the man your father, but what happens is that in that instant, we felt that our innocence went missing.

    Most focus on the rape and its ugly addition to us, like it now becomes part of who we are, instead of seeing this as something our innocent self endured.

    What I believe is if we are not treated as innocent, we then believe we are not, and then leave childhood minus our feelings of being precious and innocent.

    Living life without knowing you are innocent and precious will open you up to all kinds of situations where you sell your self short, become a people pleaser, have no sense of your own value and self worth.

    The one two punch that my parents delivered left me feeling that I was no longer innocent, my value had changed, I was no longer precious to him and she was unable to see her precious husband change, so instead I had to be the one.

    How confusing this can all be. You think you have to go back and wrestle with the feelings of being abused, but actually it is feeling the loss of innocence.

    A childhood wound is a hole in our innocence.

    And we are the ones to bring it back.

    We are the ones to strengthen our weakened state.

    In the beginning of healing we find ourselves as leaky as a sieve and we slowly over time, we become a solid bowl.

    My container of self, my wholeness is more solid today than ever before, I had plug the holes by speaking up about my innocence.

    In the past few months, I have been able to witness the loss of innocence, the lure and the grooming and the way others treat my daughter after, myself included, to find the intricacies of abuse and what it actually means to be wounded in childhood without the experience of guarding your self worth and value.

    Sadly, the reason there is so much childhood abuse, is these newly arrived souls on the planet haven’t learned to protect themselves they are easy targets.

    They are loving trusting and kind individuals that get lured and groomed into letting go of their innocence for the pleasure of an abusive person, confused with the attention and courtship, they fail to see the hook, before they swallow the line.

    What makes this so hard to stop, is that the abusers knows how to lure and groom and make comfortable and when they have complete trust and faith, they then ask or move in a direction we did not see coming, and in that instant we are asked to stand by our innocence or please them.

    Comfort them, love them, allow them, do this favor, lend an ear, bring compassion and empathy…letting go of our own innocence we focus on what they are asking, and our innocence fades away.

    We become part of the dance.

    Even though we didn’t start it, we participated and that alone makes us guilty, yet all we did was let our innocence go to please someone one.

    Letting go of our innocence is our crime.

    What I also found is the steep incline it took to get my innocence back, I had to put the ‘blame’ if you will on the one who treated me poorly, they had to own their own actions and I got to own mine.

    While I balanced my self worth sheets inside, I created two columns, what was my responsibility and what was yours.

    Separating who did what to whom, what age, what experience, what was reality in that time frame in my life, and in doing so, was able to see the trend continuing forward, all the places I lost myself.

    What I have found is the characters from way back then to present didn’t change, but rather I was able to see what was actually going on, and how I felt and how they felt about me by our actions.

    I had no one to blame in my adult years but me.

    It is in owning me as an individual and not a public held entity, that I see it all begins and ends with me.

    My business is being me, being whole, and finding myself in the midst of deep lonely feelings, for you can be certain there is another hole to plug.

    Healing is removing the parts of my self that I have given away to others, pieces of my innocence, chunks of my self worth, bits of value. To see all the times I looked at other to carry me, to make me happy, feel loved, feel worthy, all are signs of my weakness…the places I let my self go.

    Each time I am lonely…it is clue, I lost my self there.

    Each time I feel powerless, well you can bet I gave myself up there.
    Each time I am angry at another’s action, I am expecting them to do something for me, carry me, love me, make me feel secure, and so I know I dropped a part of me there.

    It is amazing how fragmented we are, how may folks carry our sense of self.

    It is lonely, if you need others to be you.

    In a co-dependent society, being alone means being lonely for no one is supporting you.

    How awful to stand alone, separated, unattached…

    Being whole means needing no one to be you.

    You just be you alone.

  • Trajectory of my life.

    Going to sleep last night with tears drying on my cheeks, after feeling the feelings of being a child with no one at your back, to feel the absence of protection of safety, and feeling the feeling of free falling with screams and no landing, I awoke to wondering who has my back now.

    I understood that most of my over dramatic ways is due to the fact that I have been unhealed, and that I have been healing as I walk with my daughter in what I call abuse, and how as I watch others respond, I am again plunged back 45 years and get to see and feel the dynamics of my own childhood.

    The present day actions are bringing forth my unexpressed feelings and giving me the chance to voice them now, letting my little girl say what she needed to say, feel what she needed to feel.

    Yet, my thought as I went to sleep last night, was who has my back now?

    Who is supporting me, who is standing with me and walking my walk?

    Am I living with people who are for me or against me?

    Frightened I felt alone again, almost childlike yet with adult options.

    I can flee; I can go where no one can hurt me.

    Confused about leaving or staying, I fell asleep.

    This morning I began writing and became more confused, so I went to my room with the heater running for yoga, and was hit directly that here, this is the warm caring I need, and then quickly felt that, I am the one I am waiting for.

    I am the one who cares for me, who will bring me to places that I need to be, allow me to speak when I need to speak…

    I am my own mother, I love and care for me.

    I have my back.

    While inside I felt the desperate need of wanting to be cared for, it would actually be relying on others for my needs, wanting them to take care of me, to be a child again.

    Wanting to feel like a child being taken care of is going backwards, reverting to childhood…

    It is my job to heal me, to feel and separate the emotions from childhood and those from today, to not mix my anger towards my mother with my husband, to keep the plays in their own era.

    The degree of separation is huge.

    Knowing that I can set the stage, make my life comfortable, that I am strong enough to watch my own back, and have the courage to speak my words, always, is huge. That I can withstand deep sadness, grief and sorrow, that I can still find my inner balance and core, that I can muddle through until clarity can be found, that I am healing and dealing and being who I am coming from whence I came.

    A woman whose childhood left scars she now has to deal with along with the raising her children, even when they dovetail, and I am asked to flow between child and mother, the wounded and the healer, the caretaker and the needy, I make it, I deal, I survive the ride down the rapids of emotions and character changes.

    What a dance, to be playing all parts, and feeling their psychological damage and or healing, repairing as I go…while growing new emotional strength leaves me exhausted and exhilarated.

    My inner body feels like it has been churned up and shot through with huge holes, bruised and achy in the feelings that run through me.

    I feel inside like I ran back-to-back marathons and carried my daughters and generations with me, that I was solving the puzzles and correcting movements, re-writing my life’s script.

    And in doing so, will change the trajectory of my life.

  • Orphaned with parents.

    The view I have on my childhood home, is that my father sits and does nothing and my mother runs around busy busy.

    And yet how much further from the truth that actually was.

    My father sat, after he abused.
    My mother did nothing about the abuse.

    Their opposing actions are what twist the mind of a child.
    We look for signs, and see the opposite of our experiences, we think we are nuts, we have a problem in our head.

    There he sits and does nothing, there she goes busy again.

    As we speak, she is in another land, rocking orphaned babies. It is ironic or not that she is rocking her own children…for we were left on our own in our own home.

    Orphaned but not homeless. Orphaned with parents.

    (I am not for sure for sure, IF she is gone to the orphanage as planned, this is an assumption of mine.) I may hear of my false info, so wanted to be upfront, the plans may have changed, it could already have happened, her where abouts is unknown to me.)

  • Matter to someone.

    What came to me yesterday was the moment in the diner this summer, when I saw my mother for the first time after a 5-year separation, and how my body responded. How before I could put on my social cloak, I was riveted in fear.

    My body had reacted perfectly and yet I didn’t have all the puzzle pieces, but now I do.

    The reason I feared her isn’t because of what she would do to me, but what she had been unable to do in my past.

    How she was unable to get me/us away from a pedophile, that in fact she did the opposite, she tried to make their union normal, while he abused us.

    How she forgave his sins, and rallied harder to make their marriage work, to keep him so we had a father. She put all her efforts in keeping something that wasn’t true. She focused harder on him, and never once treated our wounds.

    As a child you see how invisible you are, how unhearing she is, how unresponsive to your pain.

    I now feel better about the way I feared her, for at the time it almost felt like I had self empowerment leakage, where even as a 51 year old woman, my 80 year old mother could send me into a fit of terror.

    My body recalls her and responds in its truth.
    I love my body and its meters.

    And how true to form she has remained after all these years.

    What stands out the most of the days, weeks, months after my father being arrested for molesting his granddaughter, is the absence of my mother.

    She actually was sequestered and not taking our calls. She went on vacation to Australia and Hawaii, she stayed in the warm climate for months, and only arrived here around the time my father was driven home in chains.

    I do not recall one action that would bring comfort to a child who was abused by that man, not one. She was so busy caring for her needs and his, that she overlooked the dozens of girls, by this time, who stood around with their underwear down, bottoms exposed, abuse clearly showing, and did what she needed to do.

    When I sat in her home, four months after the fact, I saw her shed tears about what was going to happen to her, I saw her strength arise in defense of him and her religion, I saw her blank and defensive when I confronted her on her actions as a mother.

    Not a tear fell as I told her about my experience with her husband, it was like the doors were all closed, I was talking to nothing.

    Isn’t it incredible yet again, that we can fear actions of nothing.

    Nothing. To do nothing is extremely painful to endure.

    My mother sent cards and made personal visits to all the girls she knew who had been molested by her husband, neighbor girls, but she did not give me her daughter the same courtesy. She apologized in a letter saying how sorry she was, that she didn’t believe this young neighbor girl and was sad that it took years to do so.

    The detective handed me that letter, and I crumpled it up and threw it on the floor, like a child enraged, and I was.

    My own mother at the time was sequestered and not taking my calls, was unable to hear of my childhood abuse, and she was penning letters to other hurt little girls.

    How telling, how cruel, how insane…how dare she dismiss me that easily.

    Again what I feared from her was nothing.

    Nothing again.

    I am worth nothing again.

    Nothing.

    What she gives me is nothing, a void. Space, silence, a void.

    I just looked at the two words together. A Void.

    I didn’t know that avoiding was nothing.

    A void.

    When you avoid someone you give them nothing and doing nothing creates a void

    A void isn’t love, it is space, silent, open, and alone.

    Imagine feeling this energy from a mother while you have wounds from your father?

    Instead of being able to find comfort and shelter, we encounter a void, space, emptiness, where no one is coming, nothing will happen…

    A void is who my mother is to me.

    Running from my father I fell into a void.

    It is no wonder my mind couldn’t comprehend or compute, there was no safety anywhere.

    Who is there to catch you when you fall?

    My last line in my letter to Mr. Detective man was, “Every little girl should matter to someone.”

  • Fearfully love.

    “He who cares the least has the most power.” Is a quote that I heard, but have no idea who is the author, but I agree with it.

    Did you know that it is possible to care so much you are frozen to act, to speak, to do, that it will literally freeze you?

    Who would think that inside of ‘caring’ you would find fear?

    But here is the deal, if you care or love a person so much, what you are afraid of is losing something for you. It no longer becomes about them, it becomes about you.

    Who knew there was selfish caring, self absorbed caring?

    You and your feelings of the fear of losing overwhelm the situation and you freeze in fear and fear is all they feel.

    Instead of feeling caring they feel fear, isn’t that incredible?

    They think you FEAR them, not care for them.

    Sitting as a mother who has been gripped in fear of ‘losing’ her daughter, I was also cognizant of the fact that it was more about her.

    Pushing back fear and my loss, I have to keep the focus on how my daughter can regain her sense of self. Sure I slipped and fear fell out and hollering ensued, but awkwardly and in starts and stops, we are dealing together.

    I didn’t know how palatable this feeling of fear was or how it freezes you until I have witnessed so many who know and love my daughter do nothing.

    I couldn’t figure out what the deal was, why are they not actively coming in with words of encouragement, cheers and goodwill, why most are pressed back and motionless and silent, absent, vacant, not here.

    Again, “it isn’t the words of our enemies we remember, but the silence of our friends.”

    What I get now, is that the fear of losing, keeps them out of the game, and in doing that action alone, they lose.

    They lose what they love out of fear of losing what they love.

    It leaves me breathless!

    Love to me is being afraid and going in anyway.
    Being willing to lose what you don’t want to lose, being willing to let go for their sake.

    Isn’t being fearless, being in fear and acting anyway?

    What I know to the depth of my being is that a child who has been abused, feels fear coming at him, not caring. For the parent fears that they lost something precious to Them.

    The child feels fear and so they stop talking about what happened, for it puts ‘fear’ into the parent.

    They don’t want to make their parents afraid.

    I now see where love lost to fear, how it flips so unnaturally and how parents become lost in their own fears and not see the child fall away.

    They go away and go silent as well, for they don’t feel caring they feel fear. And since they are the ones who ‘changed’ due to abuse, they feel that their abuse is something others fear.

    Isn’t it incredible that the fear the parent has of losing a child is the key component to losing a child.

    Their fear is what sends the child away.

    And guess where this child feels most at home, among others who are not afraid of them, other abused people who people fear.

    It saddens me that the abused child gets pushed away because of fear and then owns and becomes that response as who they are. This becomes a new definition of self after abuse.

    And are left knowing, If I speak my truth, if I own my abuse, people will fear me, become silent and shun me.

    This is their experience when they first told.

    We either get to be not who we are with those who love us, or we can become ourselves with those who abused us.

    This new abused wound still fits with those who abuse, they do not fear us, they want us, they need us, they ‘care’ about us.

    Isn’t this a twisted circle?

    The ones who can ‘save’ us are frozen in fear and this leaves us going back to the ones who abuse us.

    I am amazed in knowing the success of abuse is fear in ‘good’ people and how the abusers must be clapping and singing halleluiah each time the abused child returns for more attention and acceptance.

    All we wanted was to feel accepted and loved.
    And it seemed that those who abused us did a better job.

    I recall telling my Aunt, my dad’s sister, that I always felt accepted by him, not judged like I did with my mother, that he loved me unconditionally.

    Imagine a pedophile loved me without conditions. He loved me innocent and he loved me abused, even if the abuse was by his hands.

    We can love or we can fear, but we can’t fearfully love.

  • With your loving support.

    My old definition of marriage was the joining of two people of like minds, and perhaps friendship held this too, but that you both viewed life from the same space and often responded to life with the same footsteps.

    Your histories and life pathways joined together for you shared similarities.

    I now find myself yoked to a man who hasn’t lived life as I have, hasn’t had to walk the same footsteps I have had to take, and we are dissimilar in the way we now respond to life as it happens.

    The yoke that held us close together didn’t matter, for we were the heading in the same direction, speaking in the same language and doing the same response.

    Now it feels odd, like our yoke is gone, and we are two separated individuals doing our own thing.

    Great freedom to be who you are, doing what you love, honoring your differences etc…all good and well, until your differences become a weak spot when combined.

    I have zero tolerance for abuse and he hasn’t been affected by it like I have so, he truly doesn’t grasp the affects, nor will he; his loving trusting belief in others is a weakness when you are dealing with abuse.

    Abuse and its manipulators can get away with what they do, for they bank on your trust and your kind nature and that you won’t hold them accountable for what they do.

    They rely on you seeing their behavior as an anomaly in their otherwise normal world.

    What we fail to appreciate is that the anomaly is the truth and all the ‘normal’ behavior is a shield to hide it.

    What I trust now, is what do they do when they are asked to stand with or against abuse, no matter who it is that is doing the abusing, be it a friend, a spouse, a father, mother, sister, brother, is who they are.

    I see who you are by who you support.

    The greatest weakness and hole that a perpetrator, or even an abusive man hurting a woman, uses is that we trust and believe that they are more good than bad.

    We want to believe that they just had a moment of confusion, a slip of control, a ‘moment of weakness’ but that all in all, they are good people.

    If we all stopped and cut our old opinions up the moment abuse entered the picture, we would save a lot of little children and even young adults who find themselves in a relationship that is detrimental to their well being.

    It is the stopping and not continuing that is the key.

    When people show you who they are, believe them. Damn it, Believe them.

    It seems so easy, so simple and yet time and time again, abuse slips by attached to the one you love.

    Attached to the one you trust.

    Attached to the old relationship, the kind man, the loving brother, abuse is attached to them, and you just refuse to see it.

    Oh, yeah…sometimes you see it but you will not toss out the old relationship for one little act of abuse.

    Or for one little moment of supporting abuse…we overlook the supporting for they too may be someone we love and trust.

    It is this blind trusting faith in a person who has abuse attached to them that keeps this cycle going, the legacy of abuse is mostly to blame on the ones who love and trust the ones with abuse attached to them.

    I never knew that abuse thrived more because of the love and trust than it did because of the driving desire of the perpetrator.

    In my one experience with abuse, if you don’t see the abuse attached to your loved one, and you continue to have relationships with him, then abuse gets attached to you.

    You are now the carrier, the supporter and the accomplice.

    The ‘love, trust and belief’ that my family had in my father has allowed him to be a free man.

    Each one of them who didn’t not see the abuse attached to him, now are carrying his legacy forward, in love, trust and faith in a man who gives abuse back.

    So, each time I am faced with a similar type event in my world, where abuse is attached. I see abuse and let the rest fall away.

    Again, the greatest supporter of abuse is love, trust and faith.

    Imagine?

    And yet the schools are teaching, good touch bad touch.
    Stop.

    They need to teach that we have the right to revoke friendship, love and trust, we can withdraw it at any time.

    So, my loving trusting and believing husband and I are on the opposite sides of this and my behavior seems harsh and so narrow minded. And it is.

    What I needed the most as a little girl was for someone to see the abuse, to act with the abuse and to see me and not see the man who clothed and fed 14 children, a lumberman, a hardworking, not asking for anything man.

    I needed one eye to see me, one ear to hear me, one hand to hold me, and to let him go. Instead all eyes, ears and hands reached out to him and they let me go.

    Me the abused child.

    Refusing to let his image of goodness die, instead they let me fade away, the one ‘insane’ voice against many.

    The majority wins; abuse will prevail…with your loving support.

    (What happens when in one home you have opposing voices?)

  • You can feel its worth.

    While tossing around in my head conversations about the differences between going into the Light and heading into the Darkness boggle my mind.

    How it is that a person loses direction, how do their maps get turned upside down, how instead of growing brighter they can actually become very dark and NOT even know it or maybe more true, is not know how to stop it.

    That their life blood is drained and they are actively involved in the letting go and letting it drip out, drip by drip, bit by bit.

    Their vital life energy leaves and they don’t even know it.

    The passions die, the love changes, inside of them has been an energy transplant and they are totally unaware.

    This is very scary to me and yet very much understandable.

    For if a perpetrator or abuser does his job well, you will not even feel your self leave, his sweet words and wonderful attention dances before your eyes, and like a magician, he switches your energy to his.

    Once the switch has been made, you have to work like Hell to bring back your bright energy, your innocence, your passions, good energy, self worth, self esteem, love.

    I see my daughter now as one who is lost in the sea of darkness inside of her, and she doesn’t even know who is the bad man who stole this, who came in and courted her while draining all that was good from her.

    If after the first time you do not tell, you believe you are now his equal, and his lure and charm hard to resist, his needing you a drug that keeps you dumping more and more good into.

    I am not certain, but feel that only abuse does this.

    That you come in as Light and can have it stolen away…

    The little boy with Oprah who was overly sensitive to the darkness, knew that Darkness FEEDS off of the Light.

    This sounded weird to me, but it literally swallows whole, kindness, love, compassion, caring, it has a voracious appetite.

    Darkness doesn’t see who you are, just your good energy that it needs to survive.

    I had to stop feeding the monster, to stop giving up my life for its happiness, its peace and its joy.

    The Light energies try feeding the monster to make it brighter, to make it happier; to make it more loving, and all it does is suck you dry.

    That little boy also said that the dark energies can come to you as Father, brother, sister, friend, that it isn’t some monster.

    Dr. Jill Bolte-Taylor also suggests that we are responsible for the energies we bring into a room.

    I believe that abused people abuse people, that hurt people hurt people.

    What seems we need is to heal our own pain, to be the one, to be the caretaker of our own energies, to stop blaming others for how we feel, and to harness our own Light.

    As well as being responsible for another’s happiness, peace, love or joy.

    If we can separate ourselves and not be sucking the life blood from each other, and instead be Light keepers within ourselves, the world would be a much brighter place.

    My daughter seems to have allowed another to extinguish her Light and what I want most is for her to be her own Light keeper.

    To hold it dear.

    Yet, maybe you have to lose something before you can feel its worth.