Braving the Past & Telling Your Story

 

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I have a slight obsession with freedom. My tattoos speak for it. I have five tattoos all of which symbolize freedom.

 

One is a tattoo on my right wrist of the word Moksha in cursive with pink autumn leaves, the moon and stars around it.

 

I got this right before I moved to New York after I got out of the military.

I was a photojournalist for the Navy and while on deployment I took a class on religions.  In Hinduism they have many ideas and one is moksha; freedom from suffering.

 

This reminds me that I am immortal. That I can be free any moment from suffering, from the past and from the cycle of pain.

 

The other tattoo is of a heart with wings and a banner in the middle with the words Set Free.

 

I got this when I was seventeen right before I joined the Navy. I remember sitting on a small stool for hours for this tattoo.

 

It was so important to me to have this tattoo. It symbolized my journey forward from the past.

 

There was a man beside me that I looked up to and saw as a Father.

 

He was a born again Christian. With tattoo sleeves of Jesus Christ on his arms.

 

He was also a former drug addict. And biker gang member.

 

His name was Glenn. Glenn Johnson.

 

He was a father of two that he knew of. I lived with him and his family for two years until I joined the Navy.

 

They adopted me when I was sixteen.

 

I remember sitting at the dinner table doing my homework while he made dinner.

 

He paused from his meal-making and said, “Emily, what if I told you that I wish I had you years ago before my wife?”

 

I laughed.

He couldn’t be serious.

 

Could he?

 

How could this happen to me again?

 

Is there something wrong with me? Did I ask for this?

 

No thought really could make sense of his question. No thought could give me answer that made me feel better.

 

My Set Free tattoo was a symbol of freedom.  

 

A celebration of me finally being free from them.

 

From him. From the past. From memory.

 

The thing about freedom from the past is not that we never remember it.

 

Or that we forget.

 

I tried to forget what happened to me.

 

Even now I am still recollecting fragments of memories.

 

We can never be truly free from the past because it always is a part of us. But we can be free from the power it can carry in the present and in the future.

 

I have a sparrow tattoo on my left wrist. I love birds. They also symbolize freedom.

 

Down my left forearm are the words Fortitude; courage in the midst of adversity.

 

A reminder that even in my darkest moments, in remembering, in sadness I can still be courageous. I can still find the silver linings to every storm.

 

Get the picture?

 

Tattoos tell the story of memory. Of time.

 

Of what I have overcome. And also what I must remember.

 

Remembering gives us information.

 

Here we can go back in time like magicians and manipulate experiences.

 

Say what we always wanted to say. Visualize the conversation we always wanted to have.

 

Overcome the fears, heal the past, write a new story for the future.

 

Remembering also gives us the truth. There are no lies in facts.

 

It gives us grief, joy, happiness, laughter,  anger, rage.

 

It gives us moments of softness. Tenderness.

 

Forgiveness and acceptance.

 

When we remember we have the power to see life from a 360 degree view. That is how powerful the mind can be.

 

Remembering gives us insight into growth. Into who we were.

 

In my journey of healing from trauma there have been many times that I didn’t want to remember. My brain tried to keep my safe from seeing, feeling or experiencing memory again.

 

It is only now in the journey of being brave to face it again in a new light that I can sit with the memories that once were terrifying to feel again.

 

A tool that has been an anchor in my healing and writing process that I would love to share with you is from the book Wild Mind.

 

The author shares a writing prompt: “I remember. I don’t remember”.

 

I practiced writing my story using this writing prompt and uncovered so much more.

 

My invitation to you is to brave your story. To go where your mind may fear to go.

 

To ask for support in the process of remembering and to gather all the tools you need for this quest.

When Your Grief Takes Over

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Grief is such a personal process.

For me I know that I can take my grief out on others.

I retreat, isolate, get irritable and want to be alone.

I lose interest in the things that once made me happy and start to see life as the glass is half-empty rather than half-full.

We all have different coping strategies for grieving.

In my work as a spiritual teacher and medium working with people who have lost their loved ones grief comes up a lot. They all have different ways to cope.

And the one thing that stays the same is that is is hard.

If you are grieving or know someone who is grieving sometimes the best thing you can offer yourself or another is time.

What do you need? What does this person need?

I am learning in moments of grief to ask for support and to not go about it alone.

To be visible and transparent. To let others in and to also get support and resources from expert when I am struggling.

When your grief takes over, pause.

Breathe.

Ask yourself what do you need right now?

The goal isn’t to avoid the pain but to find ways to cope in a healthy way.

To feel better than 5 seconds ago. 5 minutes ago.

Gentle acts of self-love can be big stepping stones for yourself and others.

The road to recovery in grief is your journey.

Look within for the right tools to get you there in a healthy way.

You are not alone.

Creating Healthy Boundaries

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Creating healthy boundaries has been a struggle of mine for many years.

I have fallen into the rescuer, the people pleaser, the need for approval, seeking belonging, seeking validation roles too often.

As I have become more in touch with these parts of me I am taking time to check in with myself so that I do create a healthy boundary for myself in interpersonal relationships.

I am learning what works and doesn’t work for me in my romantic relationship, friendships and family relationships.

I have a tendency to sound mean when I assert myself so I am learning how to assert myself from a firm and honest place.

I think I have anger over the years of times that I didn’t get to voice my boundaries and they were disrespected such as in the case with the sexual abuse from my father.

Creating healthy boundaries is a process of trusting one’s self. Trusting to say no when something truly doesn’t work for you.

As I continue to grow and heal I am learning who I want in my life, how close and what boundaries I need to put up around those people who are unhealthy, energy suckers and or toxic.

It is so important to take a step back and see what you really need in any situation.

What I have learned about boundaries:

  1. Listen to your body. If you are getting a gut response in your body of resistance or NO, LISTEN. Your mind may trick you for different reasons but the body knows. Go with what your body is telling you.
  2. Give it time. Some boundaries are set up over time. You have a boundary with a family member and then it gets broken the first time. Depending on the nature of the boundary the relationship may be immediately done or you may give it time to see if any healing can take place.
  3. Take space. Some situations require space. You may choose to have certain relationships but put those relationships in a place that doesn’t require your time and effort. You may see these people occasionally on your time in a certain fashion that feels healthy to you.
  4. Write about it. When in doubt about a boundary, write about it. Notice what you feel most drawn to after. What is the boundary and what do you need? Honor where your intuition and body are taking you.

At the end of the day if it isn’t working for you then you know the answer. This goes along with anything. From our diets to our thinking to our relationships.

Getting clear on our boundaries and what kind of lives we want to live with the people will impact our growth ten-fold. Surround yourself with a community and people who value what you value.

The Tale & Healing from Sexual Abuse

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Last night I watched The Tale, a new movie on HBO based on true events of the director Jennifer Fox’s life. She was sexually abused by her running coach at thirteen.

Usually I opt out of watching these movies because they do trigger me. For anyone reading if you watch the movie, know that you might be triggered.

There are some graphic scenes that made me sick to my stomach.

I saw myself in the main character. She resonated with me in her journey of discovering that she was sexually abused and accepting it.

I don’t know about every woman but I do know that for years I couldn’t accept the truth. It was a slow agonizing process to realize that my father wanted to have sex with me.

Even as I type these words I feel sick to my stomach.

Watching The Tale last night only magnified my feelings around sexual trauma.

I was very promiscuous in my twenties. I experimented with women. I experimented with polyamory relationships. I have wondered if my experimenting had anything to do with the trauma around intimacy.

In the film, the perpetrator tells the victim it was her. He was in his forties and she was a thirteen year old girl. It was her fault that it happened.

I remember many times my father saying the exact same words.

It was my fault. I wanted it. 

The journey of sharing my story has been a slow process.

I have held shame around it as if I was the cause of all the abuse.

I know now that it isn’t the case.

I felt an obligation to protect my parents. I shouldn’t talk badly about them. 

Or talk about what happened.

If you ever find yourself saying shouldn’t remove it from the sentence immediately.

It only brings guilt.

I lived with another family at sixteen.

In the film the main character idolizes two adults who become like her family.

I remember idolizing this family as well.

They adopted me and I moved in with them.

As the adopted father and I grew closer I remember several conversations of him sharing that if he had met me years before his wife we would be together.

I was sitting at the kitchen table doing my homework.

I remember thinking, “Oh no. This can’t be happening again.”.

It was a scary life for me as a budding teenager.

I know that many times I thought I should try dating women because then I’d be safe.

I wasn’t particularly sexually attracted to them as I was emotionally.

I wanted to feel safe.

They made me feel safe.

The Tale shows that a young girl wants to feel special especially by her family.

To feel safe. And loved.

We all do.

The main character freed herself in her own way by speaking her truth.

But remember this is based on the director’s life.

I admire Jennifer Fox for taking her pain and creating a powerful message with it.

I am just starting to really talk about the years of trauma I experienced.

Thank you Jennifer for being a voice for us. For giving us perspective into your journey.

I look forward to taking my story and impacting millions of women with it.

 

Manifesting What I Wanted Flat Broke and Confused

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My manifestation journey has been one of trust, intuition and conversation.

It can be hard to stay connected to your vision when in the process of moving.

I have had a powerful journey of manifesting what I wanted when I had very little to no money and just a vision in my mind and heart.

I had this nudge to move from New York City to Los Angeles a year and a half ago.

Based on my inner voice telling me that I was going to move here.

At the time it sounded absurd especially because I created a whole life in New York.

I gave up my tiny studio apartment in the Bronx and couch surfed with a friend in Brooklyn for three months.

It was a process to accept that I was at a turning point in my life.

I felt depressed and confused.

I knew that I couldn’t stay in New York much longer. It was becoming so hard to be there from the cold to the busy madness of the city. I was leaving a subculture behind. I was leaving a relationship of two years.

And a relationship of ten years with New York.

When I really decided I would move to Los Angeles it was a process.

I flew out to LA several times. I didn’t find a place to live until about a year after deciding to move.

I didn’t want to just settle for anything. I had a vision in my mind.

I was going to live in a house close to the beach. I would be close enough to get to the mountains for hiking. I wouldn’t pay more than $1500 a month for rent. I didn’t want to buy furniture.

I just wanted to show up and start my life.

Within a year I told anyone I was in conversation with that I was moving to Los Angeles.

And in that year synchronistically I found a place via word of mouth in a conversation in New York City. A friend shared her friends were moving back to NYC and they were living in a house.

And there it was. I flew out shortly after, met my future roommate who now has become a great friend and put my deposit down.

It was a house near the beach. The rent was exactly $1500. It was furnished.

It was everything I envisioned!

And it was seamless to move in.

I didn’t have much money saved. And I just knew I would make it work.

From that day forward my life has completely changed.

I have invested in two years of self-development training from emotional intelligence to yoga teacher training.

It has helped me grow into the woman I want to be and also helped me leave behind so much of my identity that was unhealthy.

Not just that but I have manifested some beautiful surprises.

I am now in a committed partnership with a man I met one month after moving here.

We are going to be having a child soon due in December.

I am entering the next chapter of my life of Motherhood and loving a human that I haven’t even met yet.

I am still finding my footing financially after so much in self-investment. But I remember my vision. To a well-known author and teacher.

Who makes enough to support her family and more. Who makes a social impact in education and food injustice.

I don’t have much money right now.

And that’s okay.

I have my well-being. My health.

My partner. My support system.

And a whole lot of LOVE. More than love than I ever had as a kid.

And the best part is that I get to channel all of that to my kid.

We think we need so much money to manifest what we want in life.

But the truth is you don’t. You need a good head on your shoulders, a vision and good people.

Share what you most want to manifest. Envision it in your mind.

Trust your feelings. Act on them. Some processes take a little time but the rewards come in plenty.

These are the tools I have learned in my manifestation process that will continue to get me to where I want to be:

  1. Trust the nudge. Your inner gut. The persistent voice in your head to make a move.
  2. Talk about it. Write about it.
  3. Envision it and see how it feels in the future. Imagine yourself there. What are you doing? Who is around you? What are you creating?
  4. Go where your vision is. For me it was moving to LA. So I flew out here many times. I made friends every time. I explored the community. I talked to people. I networked. When I felt a partner coming in my life I meditated. I joined an app and decided to give it a shot. I followed some love experts advice on dating. I did something new that I wouldn’t do in my dating process normally.
  5. Do what you never do. Don’t go where you feel comfortable. Go where you are uncomfortable.
  6. Get support. Surround yourself with good people in your life. Who are on the same path. Vision oriented people. Of integrity that you can trust.

The rest will fall into place. It is isn’t a matter of how but WHO.

 

 

 

 

From Confused to Clear: Letting Go of the Relationships that Bind You

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After a week of processing some pretty grey areas of my life with my relationships to my parents and family, I finally feel clear.

I went to therapy and shared how my week went. From the heavy discussion with my mother and intense banter with my father I knew what the path was for me.

To simply not have relationships with these people. Not because I don’t care for them. But because I care more for myself and my own well-being.

I had a discussion with my mother a few days ago about our past. I asked her a question.

“Have you ever thought about why Dad did what he did to me?” or “Why did you team up with him to hurt me? Why did you put a towel in my mouth?”

I paused after I asked her that.

My mind questioned me in the same way.

Why did she put a towel in my mouth? And matter of fact, why am I even talking to her? 

If it weren’t for the label “family” I wouldn’t have a relationship with this woman.

Or anyone who hurt me in such a destructive way.

But because of our biological tie and emotional connection a part of me was confused and hopeful.

That she and I would grow together in a healthy way.

She never gave me any answers which only showed me that she really hasn’t put much thought into her actions as a mother.

In my pregnancy my past has become VERY CLEAR. There is no hiding the truth. No living in the shadows or in false ideas of hope, happiness or healing.

I think there is a sadness to the loss of them. That I really don’t have a close relationship with my parents and I never will in a healthy way.

That they lose the chance to be a part of my life. And of their grandkid’s life.

Pregnancy has shown me how I could never imagine my own child experiencing horrific acts of treatment.

In therapy today I shared all of this.

I realized how much more clear the path with them has become.

And how much more clear I feel about my choices.

Who gets to go in my tribe and who doesn’t.

I am so impressed with how much I have grown as a woman.

From a dark place of once suicide to a thriving woman making healthy choices, creating healthy relationships and most importantly one with myself.

Cheers to resiliency. May it show us the truth.

For the Sexually Abused Woman

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My father reached out to me to congratulate me on my pregnancy. He also mentioned a message of now I will never be alone.

I couldn’t help but to reply that yes, I will never be alone because I don’t abuse people.

We don’t speak.

He knows I don’t want to have a relationship with him yet he oversteps my boundaries.

He has never taken responsibility for his acts of sexual abuse to me.

He has never changed, grown, gotten help or acknowledged the damage he has inflicted on his family.

And even if he did, it wouldn’t change anything.

I could never trust him.

For years he made me feel that it was my fault for his sexual advances. That I asked for it.

As I embrace motherhood I can’t imagine my child ever experiencing what I went through.

The inhumane treatment I experienced.

There was a moment that I thought my parents would kill me.

A memory of my Mother stuffing a towel in my mouth so that the neighbors wouldn’t hear my screams while my Father beat me on the floor.

This is only one of the many violent memories I have been healing from in therapy.

There was a time that I felt guilty for not wanting a relationship with him. He drilled this belief in us that no matter what happened we were family always.

So he could treat us any way and we still had to love him in the end.

I wonder why life still gives him and people like him a chance to live.

For the women who have been sexually abused and abused… you have every right to speak up. To say something. To feel angry. To feel complete utter rage.

I got to say what I wanted to always say to him today.
That he is a sick man.

And one that will never get my pardons.

I refuse to play in a relationship that is built on the past is the past and let’s move on. On an idea of false happiness.

He still treats my Mother will little to no respect. He preys on young women. He is abusive towards everyone. And this year he spent his birthday alone. With no one by his side.

Karma = action = consequence.

We have no obligation to the people who violate us regardless of the title “family”.

I have grown immensely over the years into a pretty phenomenal and healthy woman. I had to save myself during moments when I wanted to end my own life.

I am still decompressing the years of violence and abuse in therapy. I still have moments of PTSD and triggers. My therapist and I have done serious work to get me to where I am now. And I am super proud of myself.

My friends who suffer from trauma, you can’t change what happened to you.

But you can change how you live with it and how those people live inside of you.

They don’t get to have your power.

They get to hear your voice.

You get to be here.

You belong.

19 questions on life to find one answer.

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This morning I answered 19 questions.

19 questions life to reconnect to my new vision. My sense of purpose.

I found that as I connected to my future self there wasn’t much of a change in my answers.

Only more clarity.

Only one macro shift.

I am going to be a mother.

This macro shift has changed my lens of the world.

My lens of myself.

These 19 questions led to me back to my safe place inside.

Truth.

No matter what I am doing in the future. How I am living.

I want to live a full life. With ease and grace.

I want to create a impact in the world of healing from trauma and loss.

Because there is enough suffering in the world.

I want to be a great Mother. I know I will be.

To give and receive love.

To trust.

While we can tap into the dream picture… I have realized that I am okay with the simple things.

With waking up and breathing.

With writing.

With being a mom.

Motherhood is a gift that only some get to experience.

What a great responsibility and gift for all.

 

The Love You Give to Another.

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“Could I love him

any more deeply?”,

I asked myself after we ended our evening call.

Perhaps it is not

the depths of my love that needs to be measured.

But the trust

to know

that it is there.

The thing about relationships

is we hope the other will get us,

fill us up

when we are empty,

calm our storms

when we can’t see the rainbow.

I’ve learned through trial and error

there is no soul

that can fill us up

but our own.

Use the love you give to another

and let it be the medicine

you give to yourself.

The first song you sing in the morning,

the first drop of coffee on your tongue,

the first light that hits your window,

yes, my love

give your love to another

but first

give it

to

yourself.

 

 

 

 

Finding Your Way Through the Darkness

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When you are the end of your rope, tie a know and hold on. When you think you are at the end of your journey, reach out your hand and someone will meet you there.” – Emily Stroia, Into the Light 

I know the darkness like an old friend who comes to haunt me when I start falling into old belief patterns. I know the darkness like a wave that I have been submerged under and also conquered.

The darkness is there to show us how far we can go down the rabbit hole or climb up it. It is there to show us our edge.

Our minds are powerful guides that can take us on a journey of destruction or resilience.

For me I have experienced both.

I know that the path of sabotage and destruction has only made me feel worse. Resilience when life knocks me down reminds me that I am greater than my circumstance. I am greater than the darkness.

Finding your way through the darkness requires faith.

Faith that there is a silver lining somewhere.

If you can’t find it relentlessly create it.

Make art from the darkness.

Write.

Let the chaos serve a purpose that is healthy.

Move your body. Let music carry your emotions.

We have two choices.

We can fall to the power of our fear or let the fear has it’s voice and keep going.

Like any thing in life if we want it we can push through.

The darkness can be a friend, a gift, an opportunity to see life from all perspectives.

My favorite quote, “But without the darkness we cannot see the stars”.

I have realized that without my story I wouldn’t be the light I am.

We are never alone. The universe supports us in all things.

How the Quiet Can Change Humankind.

“My love, where do you go when you go quiet?”

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The quiet has always been a magical and mysterious place for me. I like to consider myself an extrovert introvert. I can enjoy a good conversation and social gathering but then I also like my quiet time.

This is where I get to be the turtle and retreat into my shell when necessary for growth and reflection. For anyone who has a first nature to be introverted you may naturally gravitate towards more solo and individual experiences.

And for the outgoing extrovert it is time needed to recharge and replug.

The quiet is a place for all of us. Always available.

It can be inside or in an environment.

It is where we can listen. Gain insight. Hear our intuition.

My quiet practice involves mentally going into the temple or “cave” of my mind. Tuning out from the world and going within.

It gives me the opportunity to sit in stillness, be creative and build something from nothing. In space of nothing is everything hence why minimalism is so popular.

We don’t need so much to create or to hear. We just need intention, discipline and willingness.

Are you willing?

Surrender to the quiet and let it guide you on your own journey.

Your body will thank you for it.

And you will thank you for it.

We can be better humans to ourselves and to each other.

In stillness there is a kindness and compassion that I am reminded of. I am reminded that I deserve to be kind to myself and to know compassion. That I am human and that in itself is enough.

Being human is a miracle.

Without the moments of being in the quiet I may not have those reminders.

In the quiet

I grow

I listen

I create

My heart softens

I am within

I am without

I am everything

And

I am human.

Where do you go when you go quiet?

Dreams & Old Hurts.

What we want versus what we must do are two very completely different things. In my quest to heal the traumas of the past I have learned that the only way out is through.

I may not want to go through the process to reflect and clear trauma but I know that I must to make space for it.

To give it a voice and to let all the hurt from those memories be free.

18076689_10155351021101424_2776611793883934728_oYesterday I went very deep in two meditations enough to forget my body for a split second. I jolted back into the reality of my teacher’s voice and noticed where my mind had gone.

I went into an archive tucked away in time to a distant and near memories. One of which I got my heart broken and the other a trauma around the belief of not being lovable.

Sad but true.

Meditation is such a phenomenal tool in gaining insight on what is underneath all of the layers of my “self”.

In it I gain perspective and some peace that wasn’t there before.

This morning I woke up from several intense dreams where I released some buried hurt around two very traumatic relationships. One of my father where he transformed into a hummingbird and passed away.

I realized that in my hurt I could still see his worthiness. While he may not transform in this life he has the opportunity to transform in other dimensions.

We are never truly fixed as we are.

Dreams are opportunities for us to grow, expand and learn outside of ourselves. With intention and awareness I believe we can heal a lot in the dream state.

We are worthy of giving ourselves this.

Kintsugi is the art of embracing the flawed and imperfect by mending together broken and shattered pottery with gold lacquer highlighting the cracks rather than hiding them.

I like to consider that my healing journey is like the art of Kintsugi. Perhaps my heart is a mirror of the image above.

Pure with gold outlines.

Whatever our old hurts may be we can take them and give them light. Show them there is still beauty in the flaws.

The story is perfect and whole as we are.

-From Emily, With Love.

 

 

Talking about Sexual Abuse

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I always second guess if I should post these reflections but then I think of the men & women who suffer from trauma and I do it anyway.

So thank you for reading.

Today I shared a really intense and painful memory in therapy.

My heart hurts from it.

I find myself hearing his thoughts in my head as I talk about it out loud.

“You brought it on yourself. You asked for it. This is your fault.”

I felt immediate anger and rage. I wanted to pick up everything in front of me and smash it.

“What a fucking monster. Get out of my head.”

Not talking about these memories makes them feel less real, somewhere far away in time, like it never happened.

But as I practice sharing them out loud I can discern how my brain has used minimizing to cope and how these thoughts are not my own but his.

I feel better after sharing. And closer to the truth of who I am before the trauma. The version of me that thrives today.

so much love.

From the Abused Daughter: Father’s Day Reflections

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Photo by Sheryl Nields. 

Today I asked Father’s day what I could learn from it.

For years we haven’t had the best relationship.

I dreaded the day it came and wished I could ignore the loud messages of happy moments of little girls with their fathers.

If only I could know what that feels like.

Father’s day responded and said self-love.

Celebrate the men who are good fathers.

The great men who love their children with pure love unconditionally, who show up consistently and relentlessly for their children no matter their life circumstances.

My wounded self wanted to come out and play the same story of hatred towards my father but that story just doesn’t sit well inside of me anymore.

I have grown past the wound like an overgrown toenail ready to fall off.

I can’t celebrate him but I can celebrate my growth, my resiliency and my strength after.

I grieve the opportunity to have a father to call to say I love you and feel safe in saying it.

I see today as a gift to myself and to the great men in my life who show up for their families, children and loved ones and me.

You will be the heroes for the women who have lost faith in men.

Happy Father’s day.

Telling Your Deepest Dark Secret

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Secrets in the Night (shh, don’t tell anyone)

I have a strange relationship to the night.

If I were to personify it, I imagine the night would be a man.

The night was a man.

An older man with a bald head and black mustache shaped like Hitler’s.

A man old enough to be my father.

Hint: What if he was my father? 

The night had no respect for me.

He would come to me half-naked waking me.

In thirst. Wanting me.

Desiring to put his dick inside of my thirteen year old vagina.

At 2 a.m. relentlessly he came to lie next to me.

[Are you awake?

I want to talk.]

Poking me with his long finger shaped like a penis.

The night would be a fear that would haunt me for years.

I would wake up in the midnight hour kicking and screaming like clockwork.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!”

This time the night wasn’t there by my bedside.

Sleeping next to me. Whispering in my ear how he wanted to fuck me.

This time the night was my partner.

A friend. A stranger.

And sometimes…

No one.

But the shadows.

I hated the night for years.

I had dreams of killing the night.

Murdering him slowly. Torturing him until he was sorry.

[It was your fault.

You wanted it.]

The night never lies.

It shows us the truth of who we are of the darkness that lives inside all of us.

He lived like a disease inside of me until I too was slowly dying.

From the memory of his hands on me. Of his words that haunted me.

That’s why I tell this story.

The night comes to show us the secrets that we are hiding from.

Something I have learned about the secrets we keep is that some of them do slowly kill us.

Which is why I tell this story.

Sharing a secret is like giving away an all-access pass to a room in your house.

It gives us a moment to remember what happened.

It gives us the truth.

And the truth shall set you free, right?