Tag: sexual

The Unofficial First Member

I am part of a group of women who are in the incubation stages of forming a place where women can meet and share their journeys. While its focus or its intentions is to help women travel their personal journey after abuse, it truly can be for any women who has something to share or needs a hearing ear and a helping hand.

Sometimes groups tend to be 'victim' groups, but I know that while I was part of a quilter's group, I found it helpful to see role models that encouraged me to find a voice and to utilize a wider variety of choices.

I see this women's group as being a two way street, where all are welcome…the abused and those who mentor us out of the darkness, we will teach each other the contrasts of life's journey.

I am in the group as a free spirit, not connected or affiliated with a group or agency, perhaps, unbeknownst to me….the first official member. For, behind my name is the experience of being abused, of living 40 years in denial…being without access to my personal voice, feelings or choices in my own life. A victim without knowing it.

I want to walk with others who are walking behind me. I hope my experiences will offer hope.

The other women in the group are different than, and yet they too are traveling their own personal journey as well as being in the profession of victim services. They have a wider view than I, and are seeing the victims from the outside. My view is inside out.

Together the combinations so far, are very different and extremely helpful, like many points of light…a lighthouse for women; we can see each situation from muliple views.

All women are welcome, for we need good role models and mentors as well as creative artful women, and those in need. We need victims in various stages on the journey of abuse, who can utilize and grow in our midst. A community of ladies, each bringing their unique journey to teach us about their path.

I want this group to be a place where all truths are honored.

Where it is a must to just be you.

We accept only originals.

I am excited that the seeds are planted….the beginning as begun. I do love that I am the first member…or at least I see me as such. For now, "The unoffical first member."

Ladies on a Journey! photograph by Hannah Jukuri

June 20, 2012

abuse, community, domestic, groups, helping, resources, sexual, violence, women
Hear Their Cries.

It is that time a year when on my route, I get to see babies in nature. The ones I particularly love, are the fawns. They are so wobbly and tiny, and yet expected to cross the roads quickly behind their moms. I have seen three sets this spring.

This little one got confused. It did not follow the mom, and was making crying noises. When I got between the baby and his mom, she came back across the road and stood between me and baby. And she began making distress noises. I drove off, letting them be in peace. And, forgetting to get her picture. You can tell by the size of the "For Sale" sign, how tiny it is.

Further on the route, on a paved road, I again watched a mom cross the road, and a baby start, hesitate and then go back to the side of the road and lay down.

So, I slowly drove up and snapped this picture.

This is right on the side of the pavement….I am just leaning out of my passenger window. It can almost hide in the short grass.

As I am taking this picture, the mom comes back across the road, but quickly disappears in the trees. I again, leave…knowing I am causing them both stress.

What amazes me is how attentive the mothers are in nature, and how defensive of their little ones, how they will put themselves in the way of danger to save their child. The natural mother instinct to protect, is alive and well out in the wild.

What a marvel that without parenting classes they do this so well. I said to the momma deer that stood and pranced in distress…."Good Mom, you are doing a good job!"

And then there is the human species, who seem to fail at this in rising numbers.

I am not sure if our natural mother instincts are disengaged, or do we not recognize danger?

In my experience, my body had a warning system fully engaged, but my mind overrode this "fear" signal. It first of all deleted the molestation pictures or failed to even record them. So, all I had was a beeping body, but nothing else to go on. My fears of my father seemed groundless and false.

I was unable to discern danger…for I wanted my mind to agree.

As a child, in order to survive, our minds protect us. By not remembering the abuse. And this alone disengages the danger knowing. We can't survive in childhood, with all of our faculties, IF we know, we are in danger. Yet, oddly, what we don't feel is safe. We are not if full blown danger, but nor are we relaxed and feeling cared for.

I have been thinking about what I could contribute to Dial Help as a hand out. For they handed to me what was abuse. I am thinking, instead there needs to be a worksheet, that is similar to "You know you're a Redneck, IF…."

So, it would be, "You know you're a victim, IF…"

The way the human body and mind work together to help us survive, is the hurdle we need to overcome in order to get back to who we were prior to abuse.

This mechanism that is automatic, pre-sets us into believing what is not real…and not believing that which IS.

Our inner sight and knowing is completely backwards.

It is my belief, that there are many folks just like me in the FALC, who have this psychic blindness. And we are asking the blind to see. How?

I am not sure I can articulate this accurately, to portray the dilemma any agency will have to flip this around, for they are living in a sea of danger and are unaware.

The momma deer, knows I am a danger to her child.

The woman who is married to a pedophile doesn't see the danger.

What I do believe, though, at least in my experience…is that the child is trying to teach the parent. The child is giving out signals that the parent is missing.

But what I also know to be true in most cases, is that the parent themselves are abused and their own pain has them so self absorbed, they can't see their children.

They haven't healed from their own childhoods…so they don't know how to mother naturally, and to know danger. Unlike animals in nature, we don't know who the predators are.

And when this is so, the children are left unprotected. It is open season all year round, and a child has no one to hear their cries.

June 3, 2012

abuse, childhood, children, instincts, mother, natural, nature, sexual, unprotected
Quilted into My Art

Last week at Dial Help, I was given a thumb nail sketch of a few different disorders or what I guess we call Mental Conditions or ways in dealing with pain and abuse.

One of the things we talked about was Cutting.

What I learned about self harming, is that it is a process. Yes, it is about feeling something (pain), but it is also about watching the scar etc appear…and about the special tools used to cut.

As our trainer talked about Cutters, it came to me, that I used quilting the same way.

I was very drawn to the whole process. It was my private space to hide in and to concentrate on the process so not to feel the pain of abuse. And I was able to Feel, to make myself feel, except that the feelings I chose happened to be good feelings, excitement, but I was controlling how I felt.

So, when my life would get especially confusing or out of control, I headed to the basement, where I could control what I felt, but in a totally different direction…and the process of quilting was very detailed.

Choosing the fabric, playing with designs and watching the process of Art take place, the evolution from thought to completed quilt.

A process of controlling my feelings.

I just didn't know what I was doing, but I knew I had to do this. Imagine, how grateful I am….to have my Process (Art) on display, while cutters live in shame, hiding their scars.

My scars…are all quilted into my Art.

Photograph by Hannah Jukuri

May 19, 2012

abuse, Art & Quilts, cutting, harming, self, sexual
My Art Shows my Inner Changes.

I had put off pricing my quilts, for the task seemed overwhelming. Today I asked a special friend of mine to give me hand, to see if we could find a respectable price that our local market would hold, yet honor the energy and Art of each piece.

The pile of twenty was quickly moved into smaller categories of size and composition. From that point, we appraised its energy, story and fabric content (hand-dyed vs store bought) and found a price.

Once the prices were in range, I then went to work on giving each a name and brief description.

These quilts had been set aside as quilts I could sell, for they didn't seem to have what I called my story line or were part of my healing Art Therapy, or had a bit of me in them. Yet when I began to give them titles and sit and stare at each one, all are part of my journey and in fact they hold energies of joy, feelings of sorrow, weight of tangled confusion, brilliant wisdom, subtle nuances and wistful growth, sisterhood, sister friends, soul sisters, etc…all carry a part of my healing, the past and the future.

I could also see how my lady started.

She was small.

She lacked movement and energy.

She was drowned out by the color and design upon which she stood.

As the years went on, she grew animated with movement, even her sorrow was pronounced…and her self worth blatantly evident in her size.,

What I didn't expect from this collection of quilts is to see so much of me…and to feel the small almost unrecognizable me and the how the background energy moved into the Lady.

Below are some from what I call my personal story line, that will show you how I saw myself back in 2005.

She is one of the first ladies to emerge…Her size in comparison to the background really hit me. How small I saw myself…insignificant almost.

Actually this one came before the previous one, for she doesn't even have hair… The writing in the quilting says, "Freedom to be free". At the time it was a dream, a thought…a someday desire. An unknown feeling. And the freedom seemed to be around me and I was trying to catch it.

What struck me about these dancing ladies is the empty head…first I thought how sad, and then I thought, how delightful, to be empty of beliefs and thoughts, to be wide open. A clean slate…a new me. (this one was one of the first lady quilts to sell)

In looking below at one of the latest quilts, one I pulled out of the pile going to Marquette, (I wasn't ready to let her go and she seems to be truly apart of my storyline) you can see how the lady and the background are equally as bright and infused with energy. A balance…I am no longer smaller than my surroundings.

So, no matter which quilt I have done, there you will find me…a snippet of my journey, a bit of inner wisdom and knowing…without words, you see me in the shape, color and design. Wow, Art really is revealing.

The description I wrote for this quilt, titled, "Comfortable Wisdom"…is,

"She rests easy in knowing who she is, where she has been…no regrets. She fully accepts the past and is at peace with the present…a lover of reality."

You simply can't hide in Art…it sneaks into every aspect of what you create.

As odd as it sounds, the more time I spend with my art, the more I understand it and the more in awe I become. While playing with the fabrics and designs I am blind to the subtle blaring messages that are screaming at me in silence. Just amazing to not see yourself…it is a slow progression. I changed as my art changed…or my art shows my inner changes.

May 5, 2012

abuse, Art & Quilts, awareness, creating, healing, journey, ladies, self, sexual, wisdom
A Journal to take Home

Last week when I sat by the Detective and asked him how things were going….he said, "I have two adolescent boys (who are talking to him about their sexual abuse) and I don't have nothing to give them….I am not sure about a journal, but I do wish I had something. And I surely can't give them the ones with the Lady on the front," he said with a smile and wistfulness. I said, "Let me ponder this and see what I can do."

I mentioned this conversation to my brother Carl (who was abused as a young boy) and he said he thought they would use a journal…he mainly didn't want them being overlooked. He and I both felt it would be nice if Tom had a boy journal to offer.

I found two smaller sketch journals as well as two black lined journals that I covered. This was a stretch for me to make "boy" looking ones….or at least non feminine looking, yet still artful….a place to put such sacred truths.

Above are the four I made this morning. I wrote "Me, Mine, Love Truth, and I M Perfect" in the quilting. I wanted to impart ownership as well as words that will reflect the essence of them speaking out.

I am in awe of such young brave boys…and even if they don't choose to take one, the idea will have been planted…to write. It gives me hope that boys are now willing to speak up so they can be healed…to shatter the secret and open themselves up to living life in full disclosure. Even if they never write, just having the ear of Tom Rosemurgy is huge. He is such a kind soul. And I want to help Tom as he helps them.

May these journals find the right hands to hold them…and be a place to store the tragic truths of abuse. Writing it down on paper, released the overwhelming emotions that swirled inside. It was a place to go and talk…and cry. A tool I used to find a clear mind. May the children who pass through Tom's office shorten their pathway to healing…just by finding such a caring man…and a journal to take home.

April 29, 2012

abuse, healing, Journaling, sexual, to, writing
A spiritual experience for me.

"We often underestimate the power of giving voice, but it is real and sustaining. It is the basis of all song. It is why prisoners break into song. It is why the blues are sung, even when no one is listening. It is at the heart of all hymns and mantras."

"And it works its healing not so much by being heard as by the fact that in giving voice to what lives within, even through the softest whisper, we allow the world of spirit to soften our pain. In this way, the smallest moan is in itself a lullaby. In giving voice to what we feel, the darkest cry uttered with honesty can arrive as the holiest of songs." Mark Nepo

I love, "the darkest cry uttered with honesty can arrive as the holiest of songs." My honesty in writing about sexual abuse does feel very holy to me, even if the topic itself isn't. And writing about my experiences with the FALC and how its applications kept dysfunction going, also feel more holy than anything I heard in church.

It isn't the topic that is written about, but the energy of honesty and integrity.

And to me, the greatest songs and words ever spoken are those whispered or cried in total honesty. I felt at one with God the day I began walking my truth…giving voice to how I feel, even if what I had to say was not welcomed by many, it was a spiritual experience for me.

April 6, 2012

abuse, experience, FALC, Mark, Nepo, sexual
Norm within the Church

The latest news within the FALC, is that the Chairperson of the Zion church was caught with his pants down so to speak…which to me is a huge red flag waving once again above the steeple.

How many flags need to be waved before the people in the pews will see that this behavior isn't isolated to a person, that it is an affect of abuse itself?

Who will see this as a sign pointing to the contents of the family and not try and keep it as rogue behavior? He is displaying the affects of abuse.

How will this affect or not affect the members of the church?

Who will begin to unhook the mantle of 'purity' and see that beneath the veil lies reality?

I see him as a confused adult child. I see him as the natural progression of unhealed sexual abuse. It isn't just a bad choice…of doing the wrong thing in the wrong place, it is a symptom of a much bigger problem.

To isolate him and focus on the act and not see the pathway that led him there is to miss the whole picture.

His family tree is a new tree in the forrest of names that I have. Another name, another family, another section of the church where the virus of abuse has spread…

The hope section grows smaller, that this isn't the norm within the church.

February 12, 2012

childhood, exposure, FALC, family, sexual
I fear being closed up.

"Anything we fear to lose – a home, a car, an attractive body, an agile mind, a deep belief – is a symbol of external power. What we fear is an increase in our vulnerability. This results in seeing power as external." Gary Zukav, Seat of the Soul.

The sentence about fearing an increase in our vulnerability really struck me. Somehow I believe all choices boil down to this sentence.

It isn't the actual change we fear, but the way it will open ourselves up to being vulnerable once again. And the more you explore and peel back layers of your self, the more wide open you will feel.

I had to go and look up the definition of Vulnerable.

"Susceptible to physical or emotional injury." I was shocked to read that. Are you not more susceptible to physical and emotional injury IN an Absive relationship, then if we were out?

Yet, we fight or resist being vulnerable and in doing so you are more vulnerable while in those relationships, than working your way out.

Another meaning was, "Open to attack, damage, assailable, vulnerable to critism, exposed."

Again, it strikes me as not the meaning of vulnerable. I thought vulnerable was to be wide open and soft. Yet this meaning seems to be about opening yourself up for attack.

No wonder no one wants to be vulnerable.

I can see the two sides of vulnerablitiy. However, just because you are wide open and exposed, it doesn't mean you will be attacked. To me, exploring the depths of abuse have made me wise to knowing what is abusive and what is not.

The definitions of vulnerability also seem to come into play as you are trying to leave dysfunction; attacking and critism of your new ways.

Very interesting to feel the wide scope of being Vulnerable.

I feel more vulnerable; open, free and exposed and feel that is my greatest strength. I no longer fear being vulnerable. I fear being closed up.

February 1, 2012

abuse, exposed, Gary, of, Open, Seat, sexual, soul, The, vulnerability, Zukav
Your children are sure to follow.

"The Body Never Lies," by Alice Miller.

‎"Children cannot escape their own parents, so they cannot afford to see through them either. Blindness makes it possible to survive. This is the way the abuse of children has functioned since time immemorial. BLINDNESS AND FORGIVENESS ARE ESSENTIAL TO SURVIVAL. But at the same time they lead to repletion and they perpetuate cycles of cruelty."

"To break through this vicious circle we need to understand that so-called love cannot survive abuse, deception, and exploitation without seeking new victims. And if it requires new victims, it is no longer love but at best the longing for love. Only UNFLINCHING REALIZATIONS OF ONE'S OWN PAST REALITY, OF WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED CAN BREAK THROUGH THE CHAIN OF ABUSE. IF I KNOW AND CAN FEEL WHAT MY PARENTS DID TO ME WHEN I WAS TOTALLY DEFENSELESS, I NO LONGER NEED VICTIMS TO BEFOG MY AWARENESS. I no longer need to re-enact what happened to me and take it out on innocent people because now I know what happened. And if I want to live my life consciously, without exploiting others, then I must actively accept that knowledge." Alice

What seems so clear, yet is so hard to wrap your brain around, is that a defenseless child is left without escape and in order to survive turns itself blind to what the parent is doing. You mind will not allow you to SEE your parents. Not 'remembering' what happened, allows you to live in a fanatasy. And in this so called, 'loving home' you then begin to grow and develop awkwardly.

You set into place the opposite screen to what is.

Love is abusive.

Caring is neglectful.

Your 'truth' is backwards…you become authentically dysfunctional and can't even see it.

It is my belief, that we then hurt our children in order to keep 'love' alive. Love means there must be a victim and a perpetrator.

The fog of not seeing who my parents were, also swirled and darkened my access to emotions that were what they truly were.

Meaning, I didn't have access to moving away from fear, and even more tragically, I didn't have emotions of warmth and kindness that moved me towards goodness.

Not having access to warmth and kindness, kept me pushed back on the inside, not feeling drawn to children inside.

My insides were all wrong.

My arms could wrap around them…but not my heart.

My heart was used for clinging to abuse….so oddly it is, if you could see your children as hurtful, unkind, etc, then they could be loved.

Not sure if you all can follow this, but it makes bitter sense to me.

What gratitude I have for the fog lifting 7 years ago…and to see in harsh reality my parents and what they did to defenseless children unable to escape; I then was able to walk right-side up.

Walking and pushing back from abuse and things that hurt me…allowed me to feel warmth toward my children…to feel their innocence and my deranged mind.

For all the mothers out there who have doubts and glimpses of their childhood terrors, and are unable to see straight through to what their mother did…You will enact her emotional pattern.

You will love what hurts…and be pushed back and away from kindness, love, peace and joy. You will shut out the Light side of life, while stoking the fires of hell…and not even know it, for the blindness of surviving your childhood blocks you from seeing.

Growing up means taking down the survival glasses and facing the reality of your childhood, feeling and seeing the defenselessness of being you in their home.

The blocking out abuse lenses are also blocking you from seeing your innocence.

If you can't see you as an innocent child, your children will never wear that banner…

It all falls down to pick one.

You or your parents are innocent or to blame, for the childhood abuse.

Depending upon what path you take; your children are sure to follow.

January 27, 2012

abuse, Alice, body, childhood, lies, Miller, never, sexual, The
It came True for me.

In a room today were three forces, joined over a common cause; healing victims, empowering victims, reversing the affects of trauma, abuse and being victimized…finding a way to weave together many sources and journeys…Victims helping Victims using the support of all connecting agencies.

Coming together were three pathways…The law of the land, the victims advocate and me.

All of us cared about the healing of the victims, knowing the affects that linger long after the trial, no matter the outcome…win or lose, the victim still has wounds and scars that the justice system can't touch.

We all recognized the healing that begins with the truth being spoken, no matter if a trial is forthcoming, just finding a person to hear your story raises you from the level of shame to acceptance.

Acceptance carries you to courage and courage allows for your truth to be spoken…and what you need is a very open ear.

In the room were open ears, willing spirits, like minds, and a dream.

A dream that one day the shame of being a victim will lessen, where we can all meet and openly share. For victims to leave their solitary journeys of silence and speak.

To stop suffering alone, ashamed…to be able to know that what they feel or not feel is normal. That they are perfectly perfect living the affects of abuse. Being confused and lost is the cost of abuse.

This seems to be the last closet where humanity is hiding, where souls are suffering in silence, and shame the lock on the door.

All three of us are equally as frustrated and perplexed as to what will open the door of abuse.

What can we do to offer a path of empowerment and healing that overcomes the cloak of shame?

How do you get such deeply hurting souls to expose secrets that their very survival depended on to keep silent? How do we ask them to reveal to us who hurt them, when who hurt them is who they love and call family?

Inside of family homes lives the monster that they have always called dad or uncle or brother or mother etc..how do we unhook them or ask them to open that door? When that most likely will lead to them becoming estranged…How to heal…when healing means losing all that you have?

It seems they are sitting on the bottom and we are asking to pull even that away…leaving them in a free fall…to where?

I know this journey…I know what we are asking…And I know the cost, but I also know the reward.

For four hours we talked and learned from each other and a dream was planted.

Ironically or not, it is Martin Luther King Day….and it came to me after leaving the Dial-Help office…"I have a Dream."

I have a dream to demolish the closets of shame that surround victims. To empower each victim to tear down the walls…and to live free.

Free and unashamed.

Free and not guilty.

Free in the truth of their lives.

Learning not only about abuse, but how to unscramble its affects…learning to find the self they lost and hid away, in shame because of being abused.

I have a dream that all abused kids will return to their natural states of innocence…I believe in this dream, for it came true for me.

January 16, 2012

advocacy, empowerment, land, law, of, sexual, The, victims