So this happened today. Thankfully Bri walked away with a concussion & so far only neck spasms. And, my grandboyz weren't in the car. This just two weeks into her nursing program. Ugh! #nocar=notgood #nowwhat#anysuggestions
Honored today to host and participate in the PBS Series #metoo#nowwhat with @zainabsalbi at the #magiktreehouse. #metoonowwhat “takes a closer look at the ongoing conversation around sexual misconduct. It's not a recap of 2017 and beyond, but rather a forward-looking consideration of what happens next.”
Hard to believe that I created a 😢sad-🤬angry-😒resentful connection to this view. How? While going through the ugliest part of the divorce, people kept telling me... “go to the ocean!! It will make you feel better!!”
No. It didn’t. All I could do was cry, be angry and create a ton of resentment towards the ocean. I needed something to blame all my pain on so I turned to the ocean. I blamed it for being a huge reason we ended up moving to CA instead of where I had been promised we’d move back to. I blamed it for being used as a tool to manipulate.
Every time I came to the ocean seeking a break from heartache, I left feeling even worse.
So, what’s a girl to do? Try again.
Here I am mindfully working on shifting my relationship with the ocean. I could use some tips here...the struggle is definitely real😢
I put this collage together when I started my journey to healing 9 years ago. I keep it close so I can look at it and remember. The face of a victim of rape...and a soul who rises above it all.
What happened to me...changed me. It stole my childhood. Destroyed my trust. Killed pieces of me that I will never get back in this lifetime.
I can't change any of it. I will never see 'justice' for what happened. I learned to accept it all and figure out how to be the best ME I can. To prove I can survive and be whole and loved with the pieces of me that were left.
I am a victim of rape. Through all stages of my life...starting at 5. I have multiple offenders.
I choose to not let any of that define me...instead it propels me forward.
It took 4 decades to feel safe enough to talk about what happened to me. And to realize the names of my rapists are the details of the trauma are not as important as MY name. It is, after all, MY story.
And I own every good, bad and ugly piece of it.