The Woman that I Am

I’ve never been ashamed to talk about my past. The trauma I experienced as a child help make me the woman I am today. I’ve fought every step of the way, from caterpillar to butterfly. This journey was not easy. I know I made a lot of mistakes along the way to self-healing, but I also know that I developed good healthy coping skills. Some of which I thought was a weakness until my therapist pointed out that they are my strength. So I am sharing my story, because if I can help just ONE person go ‘Ah ha!’ about their own path to self-care, then all my pain is worth it.

I was still a child when he started molesting me. My father’s best friend, the Uncle that was not related but very much a part of the family. I can’t remember how long it went on. Years, that I know. At the time, my mother was gone, divorced, and I didn’t see her anymore. My dad remarried and now I have two stepsisters that really wanted nothing to do with me unless it was to laugh at. My stepmom wasn’t exactly perfect either. At least, to a young person who’s entire mental development was that the world was all about me. I have evolved my thinking as I grew up, thankfully.

He was a major part of our lives at the time. I grew up in the country. First kids on the school bus and last to get off. There wasn’t a lot of families out there, so we tend to stick with what we were given. They had kids, we played with them. I always thought that if I was with my brothers or His son, He would leave me alone. Unfortunately, adults are smarter than kids and a few quarters would go a long way with getting boys to do thing that a little girl would not want any part of.

I remember the day I told. My parents were running errands, so it was my brother, stepsister, His son and me. I said something by mistake. I didn’t mean to slip. My brother caught it and started questioning me. Now, the stories out and I’m hiding at a trusted neighbors house until Dad got back. That night we all ended up down at His house.

Caution here. This is a TRIGGER area. Take a deep breath and steady yourself. If you think you can handle it, continue. If not, that’s ok. Thank you for trying to read my story and I wish you the best in your life’s journey for healing. I’m not angry or disappointed and there are a lot of fun, happy stories for you to choose from.

I sat on the back porch, in the dark, for hours. I never spoke, nor did I look at anyone. Every couple of minutes, the light would come on and the adults would come out of the back door. It was always 2 to 4 of them and He and His wife would start calling me names. I was a liar, bitch, slut, disgusting. They asked why I wanted to hurt them so badly. They said I was no good. They said a lot of things. I had my arms wrapped around my legs with my knees pulled up to my face and I never looked at them. I would not let them see how much they were hurting me. Especially my Dad, who never said a thing. He didn’t stop them. He just stood there and allowed these horrible people to cut me down.

I have since come to terms with my feelings toward my father. We may not be best of friends, but we do actually talk from time to time.

After that night, life seemed to turn upside down for me. He pretty much packed up and were gone within a day. Later, I found out that the city sheriff at the time told Him to get out of Louisiana and never come back or He will be arrested. That was it. That was all the justice that I deserved. A pat on the back as they head out of town. No wonder I had a lot of issues as a teenager. I believed nobody cared about me so why should I care. I learned that from the people that was supposed to protect me. They didn’t.

It wasn’t long after that the fighting with my stepmom became so violent that the police ended up involved. I went to live with my mother that day. My Dad thought of me as abandoning him, just like she did. I flunked out of high school until I dropped out. I was extremely depressed, so my mom felt it was the best option for me. I had tried to kill myself with aspirin once. NEVER do that! I went deaf and could not keep anything in my stomach, including water. That night, I had a weird dream where my dead uncle showed up. I think he was trying to tell me how disappointment he was but that he loved me always. At least, that’s what I tell myself.

I ran away a few time. Once that my parents never knew about, and another where I made it all the way to Texas before losing my courage and turning around. After dropping out of school, I did get my GED. That didn’t stop Dad from referring to me as his Drop out Daughter.

I got a job but got arrested for stealing at the age of 18. My life was a mess. So how did I develop health coping skills? How did I manage to climb out of the shit hole I found myself in?

A few things happened to me. First, when I was fighting my stepmom, I made a declaration to the scared girl in the mirror. I AM NOT A VICTOM ANYMORE! I looked her in the eyes, and I stood my ground. I fought for my freedom from Him. I wasn’t going to keep taking shit from my stepmom either.

And two, I met a man who was just as damaged as I am but in a different way. He stood by my side early on and did not give up on me, seeing as how he needed me to not give up on him. He needed my help to figure out how to be a man. He was born disabled, and all his family saw was someone they would be taking care of for the rest of his life. I was the first person to make him believe that he could stand on his own two feet and that I was right beside him every step of the way. So, he stood next to me as well.

We have been married for 20 years come July. He was told he would never have a family. I gave him a girl and boy. We lived in shitholes with no money, but we did it together. Its with him that I broke free of my cocoon and became something stronger. Someone beautiful. I realized that I did more than just fight. I refused to give up. His mother tried so hard to get rid of me, but I developed a mind set that I will never allow defeat. She wanted me gone, so I stayed.

In 2013, I did something that scared the hell out of me. I went back to school. I started at the local community college and graduated with an Associates Degree in general studies in 2016. I have two brothers and two stepsisters that all got to walk in a cap and gown but as the dropout daughter, I never did. Until now. And you want to know something? My dad came down from Oklahoma to Louisiana so that he could be there to finally watch his daughter get her diploma. It took 15 years and a lot of hard work but with sheer determination and a refusal to give up attitude, I am the first person in my family to attend and graduate COLLEGE.

But that doesn’t really answer the question on how I overcame trauma now, does it. No, for that we must re-evaluate some of my life choices. See, it was more than deciding to not be a victim anymore. Once I realized that the only way I was ever going to became the strong willed woman that I was meant to be, I had to undergo certain “character development”. I had to experience this abuse. Its like when a fire sweeps through a forest. It may have wiped out all the trees, but it didn’t destroy them. The soot gives way to seedlings reaching for the sun. Soon, the forest is green and stronger than ever. This was meant to break me but I chose to bend instead of breaking. I reached for the stars and I got back on my feet. The pastor at a church I once went to tried to convince me that I needed to be Baptized in water to save my soul. I told him that God baptized me through the fires of Hell and I walked out the other side clean. I didn’t need a public bath to know my soul protected. Turns out, people of the church don’t like it when you disagree with their attempts to assimilate you.

As I said at the beginning, I also did some things that I didn’t know was good. I don’t know how all writers are but for me, I always have a story playing in my imagination. Its kind of like a movie that flows in my mind 24/7. Its how I create the different scenes for my stories. One of the most interesting things is that in my head, He is ALWAYS the bad guy. Doesn’t matter what kind of adventure I have; He is always there.

I though this was bad. Like I was giving this man too much of myself. He got to live in my mind, rent free and there was nothing I could do to prevent it. I was giving Him so much power over my life. EXCEPT…. I was wrong.

I finally sought out therapeutic help and the woman I’ve been talking to told me that I wasn’t GIVING Him power, rather I was TAKING it away. You see, by making Him the villain, I am defeating Him, in my story as well as in my life. He is there to push me back into that little girl that was afraid that if I told, Dad would murder Him and I would be left all alone with my stepmom. But I’m not that little girl anymore. I have a great relationship with my stepmom because I grew up and realized that I am not Cinderella and she is not evil.

This was my ‘Ah HA!” moment. I have been defeating this man in my mind everyday as proof that I am strong. He does not have any power over me. I am the embodiment of Good and Light. I seek out Evil and destroy it where it stands.

The road to mental health is a long one. One that I will be walking for the rest of my life. I know there will be triggers that will knock me down occasionally. But I know that it can’t keep me down. I will make mistakes that I must learn from. If I keep my mind open to possibilities, I can correct any wrong that I make. I know that if I know my strength and remember who I am, I will be just fine.

For I am WOMAN. HEAR ME ROAR!!!!!!!!!