I M Perfect lady

Tag: innocent

  • There is No End Game.

    In the past few days, between reading books, exchanging emails and dialogues, I have been shown the angst of trying to get a new response from an old system, and it is impossible.

    It is my belief, you have to completely abandon the whole machine, for the machine was set up with a mindset that can't be changed.  It will not allow a new viewpoint or new outcome.  

    The way our legal system is working is that it is not working…at least not for the ones who have been injured.  It is however, working rather well for the Lawyers who get paid to reduce the action down to nothing.  It is working extremely well for the perpetrators, and it isn't working at all for the injured party.  

    I don't know how the laws of the land were originally set up or why or what the expected out come would be, but I would have to say it is a colossal failure.

    Just in our little town on the front page of the paper, you can read time and time again how the charges are reduced, and the perp has been saved from serving time.  

    Yet, there is no mention about the second party, the injured party and how they feel or what it has done to their lives etc.  Where are the teams of people helping to see that the real innocent are taken care of???

    I am not sure you can now turn that big machine around.  For the judges, prosecutors and defense attorneys all know their part well, and it is a Justice System that is running without justice and no one seems to even care anymore.

    It is a system that was supposedly looking to find the truth, when the truth oftentimes is reduced and tossed out.

    IF this big machine called justice worked, we would be living in a land where the prisons would be shutting down due to lack of inmates.

    As a victim in the system, my justice was not served at all.  And there is no one in the Justice System who didn't know what my father did, yet for some odd reason, it works completely backwards…it works supremely well as Injustice.

    This system is just another system in the lives of victims that doesn't work.  It runs along the same lines as their childhood homes, where they innocent are treated unjustly, and the perps lives are given the utmost attention. 

    I am not certain I can even get you all to understand the wheels of justice are spinning in a totally wrong direction, and there are no cries of injustice, no picketing of the court house, nothing….silence, apathy.

    Each time you read in the paper another reduced sentence, a plea bargain, a this or that, and the abuser walks away with a few days in jail, you are witnessing the system abusing the child again.

    And no one says a word.

    It is my belief, that we can't change that big machine, but the healing of abuse will have to come from a totally different angle.  Our healing and wellness can't depend upon the system serving us justice and punishing our abusers, instead we have to find another way to heal.

    We have to stop putting our faith in a broken system. Stop believing that the Justice System will crack down on crimes and lessen abuse.

    Instead we will have to create a whole new system outside of the laws of the land, a system that deals with the victims…the hurting innocent.

    Just as the church is unwilling to deal with the abuse of innocent children, so is the law. Their jobs are clearly to rescue abusers from their truth, while leaving children alone again with no adult hearing and seeing their abusers in their true colors…instead they take the black actions and bring it up to a gentle grey…beige even.

    We the people of the land, have to find a new way to reach the abused children and heal them.

    A way to reach them where they feel that their truth matters.

    It is these unhealed wounded children who are the ones to next walk into the courtroom.  Soon, they will be standing where their abusers stand.  We are feeding an endless cycle the way the courts are set up now, there is no end game.

     

     

     

  • 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.

  • A Man abusing a woman.

    I have such great admiration for the choreography of the Universe, how it manages to give to you the right and perfect set up to heal your wounded self.

    In my quest for wholeness, the main theme has been feeling and seeing. As a child of abuse, I had separated myself from my body, and what I need most is to bring up those emotions, to feel them and greet them with understanding, and they recede on their own, once I ‘get it’.

    The message.

    What I was able to feel and see is beyond what I can hope to put into words.

    It gave to me the access of feelings that I feared I had lost.

    It brought forth a visual so brightly displayed for me to witness the dance of luring and grooming of an innocent girl.

    Delivering to me, the need of the perpetrator over shining the care this innocence needed.

    Showing how innocence the friendship begins and its ultimate conclusion, where the courtship is long and subtle, their needs small at first and how they build, how we start simple and grow into a complex adult scenario long before our time.

    How we are changed slowly and you don’t see yourself change, how you gradually succumb to the tiny wishes, one at a time, trusting and going along, until one day you wake up and your no longer there, in its place is another woman.

    It showed me how a mother should respond and how a mother did respond.

    My daughter found herself in a relationship with a married man, the man she was babysitting for, a man whose children she cared for, tended to like a second mother for many years, since the time she was just a girl herself. To see her in the role of being the other woman, to see her self so changed, broke my heart.
    To see her lost of her inner self worth shattering.

    The overall picture of seeing my young and innocent daughter being courted by such a knowing man, brought me back to the way my abuse played out for me, but with a different ending.

    The dual lesson that my daughter and I danced through leaves me breathless and to feel past overlapping onto the present, the weight of the legacy and it’s vine stretching into the next generation and feeling and seeing my abuse from all angles left my mind whirling.

    I had to first feel the devastation as a mother seeing my innocent daughter in a friendship with a man who single-handedly soiled her fine reputation, without blinking an eye.

    To feel my worthlessness in undoing what was already done.

    To then see the dance and the lure and the friendship and its ‘friendly like’ image have such a dirty ugly affect on the girl, left me shattered and broken as I clearly saw what she failed to see.

    And to be the one to shatter her dreams and love and to flood him in a new light, but then to also put the image on to her self and to see what she ‘allowed’ her self to be. By showing her what the other woman does.

    I was able to see what my mother couldn’t see.
    I was able to do what my mother couldn’t do.
    We both, my daughter and I, were able to stand taller and stronger in truth, than either of would be able to do in lies.

    It was an incredible and heart breaking 24 hours.
    My daughter feels she carries the shame of being the other woman, I feel she carries the experience of being abused.

    I can see how we carry forth from abuse, that we were at fault, that we allowed it, we dance too, but there usually is One with more power, more experience, more everything, that leads the dance to lowering our self worth in their blind desire for their needs being fulfilled.

    The fail to see how it affects us.

    My daughter’s reputation was damaged while his remained unchanged.

    She approached the friendship as innocent.
    A young girl who didn’t realize when you knowingly do what you feel is wrong but do it anyway, you are giving away your self worth.

    We do it for many reasons, to be liked, to please, to get attention, to feel good, and what we all fail to realize, is this feeling is fleeting, it is like a drug, we are forever needing more.

    A habit of pleasing another for our high of feeling good, while our sense of self gets depleted.

    The subtle disappearing self in the dance of friendship that has a greedy needy thirst on one side and the other willingly feeding the supply is a train wreck waiting to happen.

    How grateful am I, that my daughter was able to see and feel her sense of self being lowered, being changed, how she became a stranger to herself.

    Yet when this happens as child, we don’t even have a self established to see disappear, it is gone before we knew it.

    The lessons I was able to experience while she experienced it first hand is like a mirror image of me as a child.

    I can see how my mother’s reaction affected how I was unable to see myself. For my mother’s affection and allegiance was to my father. She didn’t see my change within; she didn’t see my self worth leave.

    I can see how my husband reacted, how she had a loving space to show her the difference between what is a loving friendship and what lowers you.

    There are a million ways this has opened my eyes and hers, how it shows us both, our own boundaries of self love matter most before any request outside.
    Some may see her as the other woman and call her awful names, judge and criticize her actions, view her as the home wrecker etc. I will see her as a victim of
    Abuse.

    Her babysitting children’s father took advantage of her.

    The lack of self worth on his part lent itself to overstep his boundaries. He took liberties that were not his to take.

    He tried to make an adult friendship and press it further with someone who was way out of his league.

    Her innocence was no equal match for him. It was like taking candy from a baby.

    I will see his strengths and her blindness and trust, see her having to lower who she was to become his friend.

    Friendships like that we don’t need.

    Friendship and love will raise you up, not lower you down.

    What a great lesson to learn as such a young age.

    The reason I was having such a hard time seeing her as the ‘other woman’ was that she was just a girl.

    An innocent girl being swept away in an adult world of lies and secrets, of being chosen for the role of ‘other woman’.

    It wasn’t that she auditioned for the part, that she was out seeking this; it came in while she was babysitting.

    The contrast to the label he put on her back and the girl who sleeps on the top bunk in our home is a world apart.

    They don’t even come close to matching.

    Imagine, she still shares a room with her sisters.

    She occupies the top bunk. How can the other woman be the girl who sleeps on the top bunk?

    I feel so fortunate that we have her on the top bunk to have her in our home, to have this wonderful loving, kind and gentle girl in our home.

    What a close call.

    She now knows that when a ‘friendship’ lowers who you are, it isn’t a friendship, you are being abused.

    It is not the other woman on my top bunk, it is my little girl.

    My little wounded girl, who we will love back to her bright sunshiny self.

    We will love her as we always have, for this family didn’t believe, was shocked to the core that our innocent girl was put in the role of ‘other woman’.

    It is abuse, no matter the age.
    A man abusing a woman.