I grew up in a home with two beautiful sisters and a beautiful half-sister, another beautiful half-sister that didn’t live with us, a dysfunctional grandmother and a very quiet step-granddad, and our Father. The violence, the rage, the screaming, and abuses, both sexual and violent, were endured daily. Even if there were days when things were relatively quiet, the terror of the other shoe dropping was beyond intense. We never knew what might trigger a war.
Thankfully, I have recovered from most of it. I live a relatively peaceful and sane life today. Still, some of the scars remain. A considerable part of my healing has come from my commitment to do as much as possible to help others. I have written three books, and I do podcasts, write blogs, am a Certified Thought Coach, I speak where and when I can. All these things have one real purpose; To help others know there is hope and they are not alone.
On June 24th, 2018, my sister Jackie, the oldest of my two full sisters, passed. While I was home, my surviving sister, Debbie, told me about other abusive situations that I had forgotten. Then Debbie passed away on February 6th, 2021. While there to be with her, my sister Marsha told me more horror stories that I had forgotten and a couple I never knew.
So, the question becomes, “Why am I writing this?” I feel that sometimes it may come across that I think I am healed or that it never bothers me. A considerable part of my healing has come in the form of forgiveness, and I have forgiven each of them. Yet, when I hear these stories, once again, the memories take my breath away. They leave me feeling small, vulnerable, and even alone. Now, the two sisters that endured the most of the abuse with me are gone, and all the ones that were supposed to keep us safe have passed, and it feels very lonely.
Even though I push the most to help people find and use their voice. Here I sit with all that I have learned about the power of using my voice; still, I want to shut down. Even with this article, I cannot share with you the atrocities in any detail. They are just too much even for me.
I have a few in my circle that I can tell the details of. Even they do not understand, after all the years of being by my side, what it is like to live with these nightmares as a part of my story. They can/will/do hear me. I cannot expect them to understand how deep some of the scars go or how they still somehow affect my life today.
Trust has not come easy for me. Though, I now have several people in my life that I know without a doubt I can trust with anything. There is still that small voice that has learned to whisper, saying, if they know, they will leave me. I tell someone anyway. There have only been a couple of times that I have shared the truth of my life with anyone that turned and ran. Yes, there have been a couple that couldn’t stand beside that level of pain and stay with me. I know I can’t expect many that have never felt that kind of betrayal, abandonment, neglect, and abuse to be comfortable in the presence of something they have no understanding of.
Again, I must ask myself, “Why am I writing this?” The truth is, I know that by sharing this, I might be able to shine a little light on someone else’s pain. I know, I AM NOT ALONE, I AM LOVED, LOVING AND LOVABLE.
AND SO ARE YOU!
Please, don’t hide. Tell someone you might find healing for the both of you.