Purity and Protection

Sometimes I’m envious when I hear a life unweathered by the storms of childhood sexual abuse. They come complete with items I just didn’t grow up with. Things like protection, innocence — peace. I longed for those things. They other afternoon, I closed my eyes to breathe in for a minute. A white-feathered waist lengthContinue reading “Purity and Protection”

Pearls

Healing is like a knotted strand of pearls. Pearls are knotted to keep all of them from falling off the strand if it breaks and also to ensure the individual pearls aren’t damaged through rubbing and bumping each other. Handling abusive memories, unpleasant thoughts and crafted healing looks much the same. Through the years IContinue reading “Pearls”

Stoic and Distant

Only during sexual abuse is the pedophile present in a child’s life. The rest of the relationship is spent away from each other. There may be an occasional game or ice cream social together, but the reality is the attention you receive is while you are being abused. Many children misinterpret this and deem itContinue reading “Stoic and Distant”

Casually Comfortable

Childhood brought me no warm blankets. There were no bedtime stories to think about as I fell into sleep. No comforts that would ease my anguish. Navigating life has been odd for me. Definitions of comfortable meant for me the lack of internal pain. That’s probably not how most people would describe it. Comfortable isContinue reading “Casually Comfortable”

Pain is a Pansy

The Urban Dictionary defines a pansy as weak and┬áhyper sensitive, often acting like everything is a bigger problem than it actually is, and in most cases, beats themselves up over┬ástupid things. Isn’t that precisely what it feels like to live with pain? While encased in the throws of deep healing, I was a bit ofContinue reading “Pain is a Pansy”

Diving for Memories

Memories for the abused are unwanted. In conversation, the goal is to listen to the person I’m talking with. People love sharing their stories and I’m a good listener. My memories aren’t worth being shared. A pretender I am not. Fishing through the past I could throw away all the burdensome darkness or I couldContinue reading “Diving for Memories”