FREEDOM part 2

fetal2

I had a very hard time putting what I wanted into words yesterday. I am not a murderess, nor will I be, and never was one. Though cherished parts of me were murdered, trust, innocence and safety for starters. I’ll never get those parts back.

I am speaking of the right to say whatever a girl of eight might say, and maybe I would have said I wish my brothers were dead. Maybe I would only have said if asked, “I don’t like them.” I surely spent most of my life wishing I were dead until Samuel said how hard it was for him to hear that. So I said instead, “I wish I had never been born.” That is the piercing and shattering of childhood sexual abuse.

As a girl of eight, I remember desperately needing the freedom of that expression while being interviewed in the princess competition my mother put in, “Do you love your family?” the interviewer asked kindly, of course expecting any little girl to show her love and warmth.

I held it in like a balloon about to explode. I knew Mother wouldn’t want me to say anything bad about my brothers. She wanted me to win so much. I felt confused, torn— alone. I said nothing or very little or maybe a soft, “Yes.”  

The first violent attack had occurred and another sibling had held me down and begun his torture. When the interviewer asked me about brothers now turned monsters… that is when I needed help and a voice but it was already taken when my mother didn’t help but instead blamed. I needed to speak the truth, but the feelings of shame silenced me just as Mother planned.

I didn’t win, furthering the very bad feelings I had about myself curdling inside. Now I had let my mother down. I was not pretty enough to win. I didn’t love my family enough. I had not answered the question properly. I was bad, bad, bad. Nothing ever escaped me about what they had done. I contained it all.

How is that possible? How is a child able to? What does that do to a child? I blamed myself for it all. Rage grew with the charade I felt forced to portray. I have felt forced all my life and don’t know freedom, only moments, bits and pieces. I want more. I want to stand up and say who I am, the truth; a fighter, a warrior, a survivor of unmentionables that need to be mentioned, shouted to the world. Wake up and listen, dam you! 

lg20  

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18 thoughts on “FREEDOM part 2

  1. I am so sorry for all you went through. A lot of it rang true for me. You need to honor that little girl of eight and speak out about what you went through and it will help you and others who thought they didn’t have a voice or thought that they did not deserve one because of the nature of the crime. No child should have to suffer at the hands perpetrators. Thank for sharing.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yes. Thank you! I’m wondering what that vehicle may be, that time and place. Once keeping something in so long, it comes out haphazard, without grace. And that’s been happening, and that’s OK. But the pendulum will settle and I will find my way.
      Thank you again… : )

      Liked by 2 people

  2. You write so well about such awful things. I relate on many days to the sentiment of wishing “to never have been born” too. These feelings thankfully wax and wane and now I am in a season where this wish visits me very seldom. I hope you are having a good day and as one of your many readers I am very glad you were born.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. “… when my mother didn’t help but instead blamed.” Patricia, this is the worst part for me. Silencing myself because of my mother. Protecting her and in turn sacrificing myself. And then the belief that we are bad settles in.

    Let’s let that go. Let us just hold hands and walk with bravery and courage and simply trust that we can let that go. It’s time to let the good in. We are safe now and we can let our own goodness in. I’m with you. Sending love.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. You should have been able to say whatever you needed to say when you were a child. You should have been able to feel what you needed. And your mother should have helped you. You aren’t bad, you never were bad. I wish I had really good, perfect words to heal your hurt. Xx

    Liked by 1 person

        1. Cleaning out, airing the child’s soul that was forced to keep other’s horrors and crimes throughout adulthood. It is hard to clean it out entirely and takes time. Time courage, then more courage.
          For a long time now I have wanted to go to a bookstore in our little time that highlights authors. The owner makes an evening of it. Of course I’ve been too scared to stand up and talk about my book and read from it. It’s been five years of my wanting to but not doing it. I feel it is time to start that process..

          Liked by 1 person

  5. So sorry for what you have been through. I can completely understand everything you said, it all makes so much sense. I too went thru a miserable childhood very similar to your’s. Keep doing what you are doing! You are standing up and being heard!!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. The effects of childhood sexual abuse are devastating and so very very hard to just let go of. It seems to always come back and slap me in my face even as I feel I am getting far ahead. My heart and spirit races ahead yet the damage done to my body is there within and yes like you say it takes such great courage to move forward one slow step at a time especially when nobody wants to hear about it, except here of course! I am so sorry for all your losses, I hear and understand and stand by your side. Your fellow warrior and truth teller!

    Liked by 1 person

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