Growing up I was abused spiritually, verbally, physically, emotionally and the unspoken. Being quiet and fulfill the needs of others taught me how to survive in toxic environments, but it was never stopped the abuse. My entire belief system was built on the foundation of pleasing people. I believed I wasn’t good enough. Love was supposed to be unrequited- at least for me.
Though I never learned to put my own needs first, I had a secret. I never stopped dreaming, hoping and believing for unconditional love. As I got older I searched for this unicorn named unconditional love, but to no avail. I found comfort in unhealthy habits that provided artificial happiness.
Then I had children. They became my light in the darkness. I vowed to always protect them from things that I endured and ensure they had a great life. However, my belief system didn’t change. As a result, the trauma seeped into my children and infected our family dynamic. I saw what was happening, but felt powerless to change it. It was a sinking ship with no life jackets. Whatever I tried was never enough, so I worked harder. I got more jobs. More work meant less quality time, but they had material things and spent a lot of time with other people.
Over time the relationships I developed via family, friends or lovers grew worse.
I felt hopeless. One day, the inevitable happened. I discovered that my beloved children were experiencing abuse in various forms, even the unspeakable. I wanted to vanquish myself from the Earth. I fought to give them freedom, but continued cycles.
I was consumed with anger and depression at the thought of failing them. Everyone blamed me. Not the person who violated them, but me. Sadly, I blamed myself too.
While I spent time away from them during the investigation I had a choice to make. I could wallow or move forward. It required a lot of introspection. I moved into a shelter. I had lost everything I tried to hold on to and just had me. Me and the universe. How did I get here? Through therapy and meditation I soul searched. Inner child healing was necessary, but painful.
The next step was to speak up. It took courage to testify. I was horrified reliving the events and hearing my autistic daughter tell her truth. I had to ensure she got justice others refused to me. I made a statement and closed a painful chapter in my book.
Though I am still rebuilding and reparenting myself, I am grateful for my journey. I am grateful to the universe. I am grateful to myself for believing that I was worthy to heal my trauma. The hardest part wasn’t testifying, asking forgiveness or taking accountability, but learning to forgive myself. I had to forgive myself for neglect, rebuild my entire belief system and visualize a different perspective. I take care of myself now because I love me. I spend more time with my children and enjoy life’s journey. Who knew that playing uno, park visits and baking cookies together could heal so many wounds? What was meant to destroy me has become a motivation for real change in all aspects of my life. I am grateful I will never be the same.
Although I was able to stand up for my daughter, there are many children who will never see their justice. Issues like this are hidden dark secrets. Although I cannot save them, I can encourage others to speak up and to heal themselves. I have found many creative avenues to do it. I hope that my story will encourage others to find their voices too. Save themselves. Take their power back. The more we speak out, the braver we become.
This is only the beginning…