Archive for the ‘rape’ Category

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What is healing…

December 4, 2012

I am not really sure what healing looks like. I think it is different for each person. After years of looking at it, I still don’t have a solid definition, but I can share with you some things that sure look like healing for me.

Healing Is

Healing is being able to laugh…even in the midst of pain.

Healing is being able to cry…even when others are around.

Healing is being able to somewhat identify what I am feeling,
and hopefully…even being able to have an idea of WHY I am feeling it.

Healing is knowing when I need to decompress,
being able to identify safe places to decompress,
and then…doing it.

Healing is being able to sense whether a person or place is safe
And then being able to keep myself safe.

Healing is being able to find joy in life.

Healing is being able to see good things…even when bad things are happening.

Healing is being able to have gratitude for what I do have
rather than bemoaning what I don’t.

Healing is being able to be productive in some way every day
even if I am the only one who recognizes it.

Healing is being able to take a step forward,
no matter how tiny
and even if it is only in my heart.

Healing is being able to face some aspect of my past…without completely crumbling.

Healing is being able to recognize that some part of my history,
no matter how small or big,
no longer has a hold on me.

Healing is being able to make plans…and know that they might actually happen!

Healing is being able to say that I made it through
another minute,
another day,
another hour,
another week,
another month,
another year,
another anniversary,
another flashback,
another body memory,

Healing is having the freedom to fully unleash my creativity and
sing again,
play music again,
write again,
talk again,
share again.

Healing is being able to give without manipulation
and receive without manipulation
even more importantly… recognizing the difference.

Healing is being to allow myself to truly love
and open myself to the potential for heartache without fear,
knowing that I can rise above anything that happens.

Healing is allowing myself to trust others
and being trustworthy myself.

Healing is giving myself permission to live life to the fullest
without thinking much about healing or hurting or my history.
It is allowing myself to temporarily “forget” that I even have an abusive history.

Healing is knowing that I was a victim who dared to survive
and am now a survivor who dares to thrive.

Healing is being able to put words to my experiences,
words like
“rape”
and “sexual abuse”
and “incest”
and “satanic ritual abuse”.
And healing is to put them without capital letters because
I am bigger and taller and stronger than they are
and I refuse to give them capital letter power in my life.

Healing is being able to cry and know that I am OK
and everything will be alright.

Healing is being able to see my Creator’s love for me
even when I know I don’t deserve it.

Healing is being able to see His hand in my life…even during the most awful of experiences.

Healing is being able to see His protection and how He got me through.

I may think of more things to add to that list. As I do, I may edit

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Been thinking about…

September 5, 2012

One of my sons has been creating a list of the places he has lived. He wants to write a “tell all”, which he tells me he will redact before he lets anyone else read it. In the process of helping him to pinpoint exact addresses, I did some Google searching.

Wow! Talk about being able to see the houses, up front and close. You can see overhead and you can see from the street. I was able to get all the addresses, but one. That one I nailed down to one or two possibilities, though.

The places we lived hold a lot of emotions and memories for me. So, to say it was a bit difficult at times is a bit of an understatement. As I “went” to place after place, I thought of people and events that happened in those place. Of all the places I “visited”, though, one really holds a mystery.

We used to live in an apartment. Someone took me for a drive one late afternoon up into the hills behind the house. I remember going through the trees and on the windy road for a while. I think I remember him asking me about going somewhere. I believe he also asked me if I was thirsty. Bingo! I suspect I was slipped one of those drugs that causes you to forget…a date rape drug.

The next thing I remember is that, all of a sudden, it was dark and I had no idea where we were. We were still (?) in the car and I remember commenting on the fact that it was dark and wondering when it got dark. I asked where we were and he told me. We were a lot farther from home than I had intended to go. He said he wanted to go on to a town I knew for dinner, but I just wanted to go home. He told me that we were not far from the freeway and I told him to take me home. All I could think of was getting home to my children ASAP.

He did take me home. My children were OK, although they were wondering where I had been. I had said something to them about going for a drive, but I did NOT expect to be gone so long and I certainly did not know that “dinner” was part of the drive. Nor did I know about whatever it was that happened during the blackout time.

The next day, I received a huge bouquet of red roses at work. It came with a note that said something about being sorry. And that was it. We never spoke again. The upside is that, when I heard there were roses for me at the front desk, I thought they came from someone else. The disappointment I felt when they did not, woke me up to the fact that I had grown to love the man who later became my husband. So sweet came out of oddity and blessing out of the weirdness.

My focus switched so much away from the drive that I never really did put things together until years later. It finally became obvious that something had happened and that I must have been slipped something. Either that, or he knew programming. He was an alcoholic, which means the cult could easily manipulate him. But I know he really did like me. He even wanted to marry me. So, I think the apology was sincere. It is just that he never told me what it was for…naturally.

Was it date rape? Was it a cult accessing and he was the one to get me there? Was he in the cult (although I do doubt that)? I don’t know and, at this late date (almost 20 years later), I suppose it does not really matter. It was just the last couple of days of  “been thinking about”…

 

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When Is It Rape?

July 28, 2010

I titled this some time ago. I finally decided to finish it. I feel a need to write. My guys came back home. They forgot something and so are going to go tomorrow evening instead. I decided to finish this anyway. Here is the post. I hope it is coherent and makes some kind of sense.

When is it rape?

When the other person feels coerced into having sex…regardless of the form it takes…regardless of whether there is penetration or groping or…fill in the blank.

When the other person does not really want to do it, but feels they have no say.

When the other person is forced physically into being the recipient.

When one person is a bully who just wants their own way without regard for the other person.

When it is an adult with a minor…a parent with a son or daughter.

When it is a boss with an employee.

When something is held over the other person’s head…like a promotion or being able to keep their job.

When the victim submits because of the threat of the victim being blamed and embarrassing their family.

When the victim is told that their family will not believe them or will disown them…or worse…when the victim is told that a member of their family will be killed if they don’t submit.

When you have to pry the other person’s legs apart to do it…and yes…even if that person is your WIFE!!!

When? When. When! Do I need to continue?

My ex raped me several times…but I could not call it that. Not until…

My boys had been seeing a therapist and I finally decided to see one myself. Not too long after I started to see her, I separated from my then husband. So, she switched gears on me. I had paged her…really needing to talk to her. She told me in the phone call that she felt we should switch from the childhood stuff I came to her for and deal with the marriage separation…that I was in crisis.

“Crisis”…the word was foreign to me. My whole life had felt crazy. This was “normal” for me. Crisis? I had NO idea what she was even talking about! At our next appointment, we talked about it. I told her how I did not relate to the idea of my situation being a “crisis”.

She gave me an assignment. I was to write down everything I wanted to say to my husband…not that I had to say it to him…thank G-d…but if I could say anything to him…what would I want to say. Well, I did just that.

When I brought it in, I handed it to her. She read it and then handed it back to me and told me to read it…out loud. I refused. I absolutely could NOT do that. I had written things that could not be spoken. The fact that I had even written them was a huge step for me. It went against everything I “knew” or “believed” about how I was to behave. I wrote my heart…but expressing my heart was verboten! Forbidden! I thought she was crazy, mean and unreasonable to expect me to read it out loud. After all…I had written it down, hadn’t I? Sheesh…what more could she want?

She insisted. I refused…to the point of throwing it on the floor. At that point, she picked it up and started reading it…out loud. She got to the part where I wrote about some incidents between my husband and I. I had merely brushed over his actions and I had not labeled them.

Yes…there was a word that would sometimes creep into the back of my mind, but I would always quickly shut it out. I figured that, if I used that word, I would be judged and people would explain that I was wrong and that my husband could not have done that kind of thing. I must have misunderstood…especially since he denied it. I simply could NOT apply that word to what had happened. After all…he was my husband and I was being difficult. Anything he did…I most likely deserved…and so it went in my head and heart. I had been trained well.

My therapist asked me to describe the incidents that I included on the list. I had only mentioned them in passing and she wanted details. As I explained to her what had happened…well…then she did the unthinkable. She looked right at me and softly said, “so…he raped you.” She used the “word”…the unthinkable word. She hit it right on the head and that word that I kept shoving out of my mind…even though I secretly thought it probably fit…came screaming to the front of my mind…and I cried.

Yes! It was RAPE! I don’t care if he remembered doing it. I don’t lie…unlike him. But then…that is typical of people who lie a lot…they never believe anyone else is telling the truth either. Funny how that is…deceitful people tend to believe that everyone must be just like them…and not to be trusted.

He raped me…more than once. I remember what it felt like…how each time it felt like a little piece of my heart just broke off and died. In fact, it was that feeling of inner death that the L-rd used years later to help get my children and me out of the charade of a marriage. He showed me that, if I did not set a particular boundary, I was going to die. And I was suddenly taken back to the rapes and how it felt. I knew what kind of death He meant.

It was a huge thing to do, but with His strength…I did it. It got pretty hairy, but I was determined. “No” meant “no”! Period! But he did not cross the line because this time I was not going to submit. I was willing to resist no matter where it led. I was prepared to be beat up…if need be. Thankfully…it did not come to that…although he did get physical…threw me on the bed and tried to undress me. I did not try to get away. I just resisted. Every time he stopped…I stopped…which gave him the idea I was giving in…until he started again and I resisted again. Oh, the threats he made…but I stood my ground. One week later, he was out of the house…at my request. It was time…and G-d showed me it was do or die. He gave me the strength to do what I needed to do.

What is rape? Take a look at that list! I could not stop my father. I could not stop my mother. I could not stop the cult. They took me. They took my sister. I could not stop my husband…until that moment in time. I could not stop the others who triggered my programming and used me. I could not stop the therapist who accessed me and used me almost four years ago. But I am a fighter! I have been through a lot and I will keep on fighting.

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Anger Is My Ally and Having a Voice

July 15, 2010

I always used to be afraid of anger. Anger could get you in trouble. You weren’t supposed to be angry. So, if you were you darned well better hide it! Ack! So, what to do with anger?

I remember meeting with a therapist right after my separation from my then husband. I had started to see her for other things, but she switched us over to dealing with my marriage (or lack thereof) when I separated. My assignment was to write down all the things I wished I could tell him. Boy was that a tall order…but I did it.

When I brought it in to her she looked at it and then wanted me to read it. I just looked at the list and at her and could not do it. She insisted. I refused. I could not give voice to what I desperately needed to say. She would not let it go…so I got angry and threw it down on the floor. I find that choice interesting. I could have destroyed it or hidden it, but instead I threw it on the floor where I knew she could pick it up…which she did. She then started to read it again…only out loud this time. She gave her voice to what I could not give my voice to.

Listening to her read that list was incredibly hard. I don’t remember much more about that appointment, but I do know two things happened. Her saying out loud what I could not…even though he could not even hear it…was validating. I don’t know that I consciously thought of it that way at that time…but it was. To hear someone else saying what I wished I could say…was hugely validating. She did not think anything was stupid…or exaggerated…or insignificant…or anything else that some people might have tried to do with it. This woman was my voice when I did not have one and she began the process of setting my voice free. There were things on that list that I felt uncertainty or even embarrassment over. Her treating that list as she did took that away.

It was just like during another appointment (or perhaps it was later in the same appointment) when I described something he had done and she said, “So, he raped you.” I just burst into tears when she voiced those four simple words. I had always “felt” the word “rape” regarding those times (it was more than once), but I could never actually attach it. I could never out loud or consciously call it that…for a whole variety of reasons better left for another post…if I remember to do one. (OK…I just went and titled an empty draft to remind me.)

To hear someone describe what happened to me as “rape” was SO validating. I just sat there and wept. She confirmed my reality and she gave me my voice…both in the reading of that list and in calling what he did to me “rape”.

The other thing that happened was that I got in touch with a whole lot of pain and emotions that I had been stuffing through all those years of marriage. I was flooded with a world of hurt as she read everything on that list. Hearing it from her made it even more real. These were not things in my imagination or in my own head. These were real things. Real events. Real feelings.

Anger also started to rise. It had always been there in one form or another, but I always tried hard to not express it. There was one point toward the end when I actually threw some things at my ex. I felt really bad about doing it, but I was desperate to try to do something to hopefully get him to see what he was doing. I was hoping that my taking an action that was so out of character for me would shock him into actually listening to me for a change. It didn’t phase him one bit. I think I just gave him some fuel for the lies he was already telling me about me. Or…maybe it wasn’t all lies? Could it be that I was switching and did not know it? I don’t recall losing time. Any more, though, there are a lot of things I am no longer certain of. I do know that I was reacting to things he was doing…and he did not like it…nor would he acknowledge any responsibility for it. He was manipulative…very manipulative. If I tried to point out that I needed something from him in order to give him what he wanted from me I was accused of trying to blackmail him. He refused to accept the way things work between people. Sadly…everything that he was…he accused me of being.

As I look back on my life with my ex (something I try not to do any more than necessary) I think that my anger did come out in some ways. I would say that I was probably passive aggressive to some degree. I don’t remember it being a conscious thing. It wasn’t like I said to myself, “Self…if he won’t this then I will that.” Oh, no…that would have been SO wrong in my worldview at that time…and it still is. I was a good cult girl and would never consciously stoop to such manipulations. But I think it was slipping out from inside anyway. In fact, it is entirely possible that I was switching without even realizing it…that someone inside was trying to somehow protect me and make things better. But nothing ever got better. It only kept getting worse and worse. There comes a point where you can only stuff for so long before it starts coming out one way or another. One sad thing is that I know my children took some of the brunt…not that I was consciously abusive…but I was harsh at times in my perceived helplessness and frustration.

Anger can be such a powerful emotion. It can give us the energy to make changes that we really need to make. It can help to strengthen our resolve when there are tough things that need doing. It can also be scary. I was always terrified of anger…both the anger of others and of my own. I was always afraid of losing control and I was raised to always be in control. So, I continued to stuff a lot of my anger, although I think I did start expressing it more.

I wasn’t in therapy very long. When I finally got back in many years later, I was still afraid of anger. I was afraid that, if I started to let myself feel it, I would be like a volcano that kept spewing and spewing. I was afraid that I would explode and not be able to regain my illusion of having control over it.

Anger…helpful…scary…necessary…protecting…hurting…punishing. So many things can be involved with anger. I think the biggest thing I learned about anger, though, is that it is typically a cover-up emotion. Anger is not the real issue…it is whatever anger is covering up. The anger indicates some other emotion. It could be fear, for example. I am afraid, but I don’t want to admit I am afraid…do I feel anger. Fear requires acknowledgment of something and possibly having to take action. Anger can be a blind feeling of agitation that does not really require an action…other than to perhaps rage. I feel afraid of abandonment…but instead of acknowledging that and dealing with that…I cover it with anger over something completely unrelated.

Once I read about anger being a cover…I started to look deeper…to look underneath the anger to see if I could figure out what was there.  As I did that, I was able to start taking more control over my life…bit by bit…which made me feel more empowered…and less angry. Anger started to become determination…resolve…energy for the actions I would eventually need to take. Learning that about anger helped me a lot. I learned that anger is my ally. It is my indicator that something is not right…either with me…or with something happening to me or another.

I hope this made sense. I have a lot to do and wanted to get some thoughts out here. So, I have not taken much time to “polish” it up.

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Article on Good Touch/Bad Touch by Sheena

May 12, 2010

Sheena wrote about why women (and girls) often don’t resist, or fight back, or tell when they are molested or raped.  She writes about some of the messages they are taught about how to behave and how those messages contribute to their not telling and not fighting back. We so need to teach our children differently. I hate the thought that we could actually be setting them up to be abused.

Here is her article: The Conflicting Nature of Good Touch/Bad Touch Everyone needs to read this. Everyone needs to think about what she is sharing here.

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Denim Day

April 21, 2010

I recently read something about Denim Day, but I did not know what it was…only that it had something to do with sexual assault. Well, Sheena has written about the history of it. She explains it quite well and so I am going to link to her post. I warn you, though, it will probably make you angry…as it did me.

Sheena also tells a bit of her story…something else that will most likely make you angry. No one should have to go through what she went through. No one should be blamed for what happened to them, either. You go, Sheena!

Denim Day

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Whoopi Goldberg…Sheesh!

October 10, 2009

Well…Whoopi just keeps on stepping in it. This woman needs to either shut up or truly be the child advocate she proclaims herself to be. Then again…Whoopi is Hollywood. Perhaps, she is unable to speak the truth because the truth hurts too much. Was she, perhaps, raped as a child? If so…and if she had not faced it…it would certainly explain her backing up Polanski. Pershaps, her own daughter or granddaughter have been raped and she does not want to face it. Who knows?

I know that the cult runs a lot of Hollywood. What place does Whoopi have with that? I have no idea. I am just trying to understand why a woman like her passed over the opportunity to speak up and defend the rights of all children everywhere…millions of children…to not be raped.

I have two articles to share with you. The first one blows holes in some of the common arguments for people accepting behaviors like rape as being “normal” or “moral”. Whoopi Goldberg was Right…Sort of

The other is Wendy Murphy’s second letter to Whoopi. It’s Time to Apologize, Whoopi

Both letters have excellent points and are well worth reading.

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Sexual Abuse, Rape and Adultery

October 8, 2009

So, what do sex with a minor, rape and adultery have in common? Well, in this case…it is all abuse! I mean…with the first two, you would think that would be a no brainer…but then who said Hollywood had any brains, right? If it is child…a minor…it is rape…it is abuse. End of subject…or so you would think. Apparently, if you are a Hollywood bigwig, the rules are different.

As for the adultery…well, that is rape, too. At the very least, it is taking advantage of one’s position. Consensual? No such thing with a minor and no such thing with someone you have any kind of authority or position over.

I am so sick of how the sexual abuse of children is not called what it really is…rape! I am also sick of how people who are in a higher station than the ones they have sex with can consider it “consensual”. Malarky! When someone is under someone else…they have the power…whether it be a boss, a priest, a teacher, a parent, etc.

There is a very good column on this written by Larry Elder. Hollywood, media misfire on Polanski and Letterman Larry points out that Hollywood does not even raise the issue of power or position. But then…isn’t that just so Hollywood?

No one seems to want to state the obvious in either of these cases. Polanski committed RAPE! Letterman not only committed adultery, which is bad enough, but he also used women who were under him in position. That is wrong, wrong, wrong.

I didn’t use to understand this…perhaps due to having the boundaries so twisted when I was growing up being abused my parents and God knows who all else. A boss I had years ago explained it to me. He loaned me his truck once when my car broke down, but when his truck broke down, he did not even tell me about it, let alone ask me even for a ride in.

I asked him why he did not ask to borrow my car. He said it was because of his position over me as my boss. Even though we were actually friends, he could be viewed as taking advantage of his position if he even let me know he needed assistance to ask me a favor. There is always the idea that the person beneath could feel some kind of pressure to comply or risk losing their boss’ favor. I had never heard of that idea before, but it makes total sense.

These guys are held up and protected instead of vilified and put in their places. Why??? Their actions are the actions of  lowlifes. Grrrr!!!

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When Is it Not “Rape Rape”?

September 30, 2009

I was reading Angela Shelton’s FaceBook page, which led me to her blog where I read her blog post: A Letter to Whoopi from Wendy Murphy.  (Both her FB and her blog are excellent, by the way, and I recommend reading them.)

Now, I don’t have TV, but I have seen snippets of “The View” on Youtube, or while in hotels. It never really looked like the kind of show I would actually want to watch, but this really cinched it for me.  If the following is an example of current women’s views on life…I am GLAD that I DON’T watch it!! This is total nonsense…no…more than that…it is actually horrifying nonsense.

A search on the net comes up with quite few mentions of Whoopi and her comment regarding what Roman Polanski really did with this 13 year old girl. There is an actual video clip from the show here.

I see Whoopi Goldberg as a very talented actress. I have seen her in a number of movies and enjoyed her. Although I do not know her well, I think I can safely say that we are not in agreement when it comes to politics. But never in my wildest dreams would I think that we would disagree as to whether or not a 45 year old man…or even ANY man…having sex with a 13 year old girl would be anything but RAPE!! That is one “view” I wish she had kept to herself!

HELLO…13 year old = child! An adult is ALWAYS in a mental and emotional power position over a child. Period…end of subject. It is not consensual…it is RAPE…plain and simple. To add to that, he first made her inebriated. AND, she told him “no”. Excuse me, Whoopi, but what part of “rape” do you not get???

Not “rape rape”? What the heck IS “rape rape”???? Is it that not being pregnant pregnant? Or robbed robbed? Sheesh!

I really like Wendy Murphy’s letter to Whoopi. You can find it here: An Open Letter to Whoopi Goldberg. Like Angela Shelton, I highly recommend you read it!

Go, Wendy! Grrrrr, Whoopi! Grrrrr, Polanski! Go, Angela!

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Yay! Angela Shelton for MacKenzie Phillips!

September 29, 2009

I am so proud of Angela Shelton! She spoke up for MacKenzie Phillips. MacKenzie has been taking a lot of flack for coming out and talking about how her father raped her over a period of years. See: High on Arrival – MacKenzie Phillips

It is tough enough for those who have been raped and abused to speak out. When it is a parent who does it…it is even harder. Harder for the child to accept it themselves and harder to share it. When that parent is high profile…rich and famous…and even beloved…it becomes even harder! The last thing these victims need is to be ridiculed and their integrity questioned.

So…yay, Angela. Thank you for speaking up. Somebody needed to. People need to wake up.

One of the things, too, that MacKenzie is taking flack for is her use of the term “consensual” once she turned 18.  Well…that is not surprising. When a child is raped by their parent…and that is exactly what it is…rape…the child is in a position of subservience to the parent. It is very difficult for a child to believe that a parent is evil or bad. A child takes on the idea that they have to be somehow at fault…that they somehow enticed or wanted it or???

The child is being groomed to be a “mistress” aka “sex slave” to the parent. This does not suddenly shut off at 18. In the mind of the child, it can seem consensual because of the age…but that does not make it so. Once groomed to be a sex slave, it continues until something happens to break the cycle. That something can come from within the child/now adult…or it can come from without. The parent might suddenly stop or someone else might find out and bring it to a halt. Any way you look at it…it is NOT consensual. It is merely the extension of a relationship that was based in rape and NOT consensual.

If a child is part of a ritual abuse family or group, going beyond 18 can be the norm. Or, even if it stops as a teen, it can be resumed later on as an adult. The child is groomed from an incredibly young age…oftentimes starting in infancy. It is not difficult for the parent (or other adult) to trigger the mental conditioning aka programming to get the person back under their control…and yes…even to the point of having sex with them.

I wish people would stop believing that people just cannot do these kinds of things. They can…and they do! It is time to bring this stuff out of the shadows and stop judging those who are brave enough to bring it into the light.

Go, MacKenzie! Go, Angela!

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Anger, Anger, Anger!

August 7, 2008

I hate being treated like a criminal…like I’ve done something wrong, when I have not.

I hate it when someone starts asking questions and fishing instead of just coming out and sharing what they know and giving me a chance to respond to it.

I hate it when someone says that I told someone else something about myself, but they won’t tell me who I supposedly said it to or exactly what was said, so that I can have some sort of context and be able to clear it up.

I hate being treated as if I am hiding something when I am not…or as if I am being dishonest, when I am not.

I hate it when people get on power trips and treat others like they are insignificant and unimportant. We are ALL important in Yahweh/God’s eyes…and should be to each other.

I hate being pitied.

I hate being looked down on.

I hate being considered “less than”.

I hate it when someone behaves like a jerk.

I hate it when, instead of having a dialog, I am interrogated…with many obvious tactics.

I hate being treated like dirt.

I hated being raped and used.

I hated being treated like an object.

I hated being forced into doing things I did not want to do.

I hate…

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Secrets

March 1, 2008

We all have secrets…all of us!

The way I see it, there are different kinds of secrets.

One kind consists of things you don’t want anyone, ever, to know about. These are the ones you want to take to your grave…the ones you are absolutely determined that NO one in this life will ever hear.

Another kind consists of things that you don’t want everyone to know, but you will share them with one really trusted person…or maybe even two. Chances are, if you have several of this kind of secret, you may have shared all of them at least once, but probably not with the same person.

Then there are the kind that you are OK with sharing in a trusted small group. You hope that they will keep it within the group. Or, you share them with one other person because you can see that they have gone through something similar and so you dare to take the risk.

Then there are those that you are willing to share on a larger level…say at a retreat, a conference or a luncheon, as a speaker. These are not so secret as you know it may get around. Of course, if you write a book about it, it isn’t really a secret anymore! Although, there are some who do write anonymously.

These secrets consist of basically two kinds of things…those that are done BY us and those that are done TO us. We are ashamed or embarrassed about the things we have done…things we believe will cause others to reject us or look down on us. But isn’t it amazing that we can have those same feelings about things done TO us? I mean…why is that? We oftentimes have no control over things done TO us!

Why is it that a woman who is raped is ashamed to say anything? Or a child who is molested, even once he/she grows up, is ashamed to say anything about it? I believe a lot of it is the lies we were told when it happened. The predator, the rapist, the molester, the beater…they all tell the victim that it is the victim’s fault. We take on that lie and believe that there must have been something we could have done to stop it…or to prevent it. It does not matter that they were bigger than us…or stronger than us…or that they were a group…or had a weapon or…fill in the blank. What is even worse is that society will often tell us the same lie. *sigh*

How many times has a victim, regardless of age, been made to feel as if they are the guilty one? As if they somehow made it happen? Or allowed it to happen? The victim is given a power they do not really have, which actually strips them many times of the power they should have to heal…the power they should be receiving from getting support and from seeing the real guilty party called into justice.

So…what do we do with our secrets? How do we know what to share? Or how to share? And who do we trust with our secrets? Do we keep them? Or do we become open and transparent about our life experiences? How do we receive healing if we never say anything about them? How do we walk in the realization that there are those who will love us no matter what we have done or gone through?

I hope to look at some of these questions in this blog.

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