Forgiveness….
an easy word to toss around
used so freely by those within the many diverse circles of religiosity
especially those who have not experienced abuse
the placaters
the well meaners
the do gooders
the word throwers
the ones who have not stood in my shoes
Forgiveness….
This word holds so many red cards for me
I have struggled with it for decades
After being sexually & emotionally abuse for years and years
the ruination of my childhood
I then go on and live through decades of spiritual abuse
and more emotional abuse
so much shaming
and blaming
and shunning
by those who can’t accept what my abuser did
So ‘forgive’ me if I sound jaded
I Am
Very Jaded
There’s gotta be a better word
Another word
A word that takes all the blame and shame
and stacks it squarely on who it belongs
Forgiveness….
Thesaurus synonyms are
absolution
clemency
compassion
dispensation
grace
mercy
reprieve
vindication
amnesty
reprieve
etc
All ideations from religiosity
Then there is this
noun as in pardon; end of blame
End of blame
Well fuck me thrice over
There is no way I am ever going to end the blame
I will never forget what was done to me
I will never forget the childhood that was robbed from me
I have been shamed to hell and back for nigh on 60yrs
There is no way this side of hell freezing over that I am ever going to end the blame or pardon my abuser
This probably sounds angry
that’s cuz it is
I am angry
No matter how much healing work I do
it always comes back to
bloody forgiveness!
I am not allowing anger to eat me up
I am angry
but anger is not possessing me
I was recently told that
“Holding on to anger
Is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die“
so hop off your high horses
don’t start the lectures
don’t drop the platitudes
If I was drinking the poison
I wouldn’t be processing
I wouldn’t be writing
This is the way I know how to release
I am doing the work
the work I shouldn’t have to be doing
cuz it all comes down to the fact
that if what was done To me
hadn’t been done To me
then I wouldn’t have to be asking
Forgiveness or what?
There must be another word…
Category: poetry
planetary flows
tides ebb and flow
planets come and go
mercury retrogrades
moons collide
solar flares
lunar eclipses
natures mysteries abound
growing through conservative christianity
taught everything outside was evil
don’t do this
don’t touch that
you’ll allow the devil his hold
wakening now
realising
that I am part of this awesome universe
created by God
and in the being part of
I am feeling part of
so the ebbs and flows
effect my very core
being the very practical being I am
sceptical of things unknown
things unseen that I cannot prove
yet now
I am feeling
and recognising the ebbs & flows
that are affecting my essential self
my life is my long journey
and yet in the aeons of time
it is but a brief blink
connected to the universe of which I am just a tiny speck
I am but a pin prick
feeling such insignificance
how and why does the universe care enough about me
to include me in its ebbs & flows
I am but sand on the shore
a drop of water within the seas
but my life has relevance
and meaning
I must hold some importance
otherwise why am I here
growing up through the Age of Aquarius
it was but a mere song
a hippie chick sang
living on the fringes of churchism
feeling frowned upon for even thinking the lyrics
but on delving in
I see its relevance during my lifetime
apparently though
I have the energy of Sun in conjunct with Pluto
a rare thing indeed
my presence on this planet is to do what I am doing
I am not just a mere speck
I am burning, cleaning, clearing the way
facing the darkside
constantly transforming
articulating
communicating to others
by opening up my heart
allowing the blood of my traumas to flow
releasing the pain and reality of my damaged soul
I am letting the sunshine in
to the hearts of others
as they resonate with my words
no matter the darkness they hold
or the life they bring
sharing gives strength
breaking darkness to let the light in
releasing energy
breaking tensions
allowing the ebb & flow of my life
to encourage others
that is my reason for living
Living Fully Creative Therapy
I spent the end of March and the first two days of April participating in a Living Fully Creative Therapy Group
3.25 very intense days
It was a ‘retreat’ for sexual abuse survivors.
I was fortunate to be put forward for funding to attend.
It was with much trepidation that I agreed.
I didn’t know what to expect so went with no expectations.
I deliberately booked myself into a motel nearby as I knew that I would not cope with the travel too and fro after such intensive days.
That was a self care move and a good one
I was right.
I needed space for me each night.
We were a small group of victims in varying stages of healing.
It was challenging, disturbing, distressing, amazing, painful and wonderful all at the same time.
To be able to freely communicate and be heard & believed and supported in such a safe way was actually incredible.
I’ve never experienced psychodrama or group therapy before
It was certainly very interesting, challenging and emotionally draining.
Actively participating in the dramas was definitely not something I was comfortable to do
I preferred the role of witness and giving feedback
This was an important part of the proceedings
The art therapy portions were certainly more my thing
There just wasn’t enough of them for me
What did I take from my time there?
Firstly – I learned that I can participate, or not, at whatever level I am comfortable with and saying no is very ok.
And I was commended for doing so.
Secondly – I learned that I can hold my own space.
That I’m important and have as much right as anyone else to hold space.
That I’m not taking from anyone else.
And that in owning my space I’m also giving to others.
Thirdly – I learned that I was believed.
At all times.
I was supported and held in the safest place I’ve ever been in.
In the past when I have tried talking openly I’ve been shutdown & silenced.
That is revictimisation and I will no longer allow myself to be a victim of that.
Fourthly – I have never read my work aloud to anyone before.
I usually write & run.
But this time they wanted my words.
They asked me to read to them.
Their responses were more than could’ve imagined.
So much empathy, compassion, & identifying.
I felt validated.
As a writer.
As an artist.
As a woman.
it wasn’t rape, was it?
I didn’t fight
so it wasn’t rape
was it?
They were doctors
so it wasn’t rape
was it?
He was my husband
so it wasn’t rape
was it?
I said yes because I was afraid he would kill me
so it wasn’t rape
was it?
I kept quiet so my kids wouldn’t wake
so it wasn’t rape
was it?
I was a child and he said he loved me
so it wasn’t rape
was it?
He was a friend, relation, I knew him well
so it wasn’t rape
was it?
I wasn’t wearing enough clothing
so it wasn’t rape
was it?
I was walking home alone at night
so it wasn’t rape
was it?
He said I obviously didn’t love him if I didn’t
so it wasn’t rape
was it?
I was intoxicated and cannot remember
so it wasn’t rape
was it?
He said he would buy me drugs is I did
so it wasn’t rape
was it?
He didnt use his penis
so it wasn’t rape
was it?
I don’t have any bruises
so it wasn’t rape
was it?
I forgot to lock the door
so it wasn’t rape
was it?
the excuses and the shaming are endless….
I am angry to the core of my soul every time I hear the excuses
the humiliation of diminishment
the dismissiveness
Rape is power & control
Rape is abuse
Rape is predominantly male against female
but not exclusively so
Rape is fucking Rape
so
Stop
dumbing it down
and
Stop
Shaming the victims!
Just Fucking Stop!
finding my space
I’ve never done the group thing before
It’s pretty damn scary
they say we are in a safe place
but any time vulnerabilities are released or revealed
it doesn’t feel safe
it’s hard to feel safe
they say it’s safe here to speak out
to tell our stories
but hearing others stories
silences my own
I don’t want my story to overshadow theirs
My story is mine
and right now it feels like if I speak
I am taking from their spaces
I feel conflicted
I am not used to just sitting
listening
watching
someone share their pain
shed their tears
and do nothing
except sit in silent agreement
I want to go to them
to surround them in a heart sharing, heart supporting, hug
but we just sit
and allow them space
to share
and to shed
to be heard
to be seen
and to grow
When it is time
then maybe
just maybe
I will allow myself the space
to tell my story
it just feels too big of a story though
it feels like it will take up too much space
that I take up too much space
that my whole story is actually just too huge
Maybe I should write a Readers Digest version
it might be easier for others to digest
but then I would feel cheated
because I too need space
to share
to be heard
to be seen
and to grow
Time and Life
63 birthdays were gifted you
you were gifted to us
to me
to so many who loved you
time spent
spent time
together
measured in moments
heartbeats
rhythms of life
flowing between rivers
of sweetness
and sadness
of hardwork
and holidays
a cadence of days
10 birthdays thereafter…
celebrated by us
with heartbreak
and soul filled memories
life
this interval
a season
a period
a duration
embrace this span
this epoch of life
time
won’t be held
can’t be stopped
once spent it is gone
no going back
we think we have aeons
but in fact
we have but a brief beat
in the melody of life
I loved you for then
I love you now
separated by dimensions
in time and space
Tears fall
remembering
the precious time we shared
Thank you for the memories x
Remembering 42 years of love & life shared with Timmy 💞
Not good enough
I feel small
not good enough
don’t measure up
inadequate
worthless
then I meet you
and you are amazing
wonderful
captivating
fascinating
and then I discover
you feel
not good enough
inconsequential
insufficient
that you think
I am amazing
wonderful
beautiful
intoxicating
it seems that none of us feel good enough
but we each cover up
our woundedness
our internal ideologies
so well
we each have found
masks
masks of
bravado
arrogance
abrasiveness
pretentiousness
cockiness
hurt
pain
extreme humility
meekness
addiction
…
masks we all wear
that disguise
the pain of the feelings
the pain of being
the pain of the lie
– not good enough
such sadness we unwittingly embrace
until we stumble upon
someone or something
who gives us
permission
confidence
freedom
to find the strength within
to remove the masks
to reveal our vulnerabilities
to reveal the us
then we find
the real,
the ability to really love
ourselves
and
each other
honestly
openly
completely
and that is truely freeing
Scars – we all have them, but what do we do with them?
Scars – we all have them.
Physical, emotional, mental, spiritual….
Some we can live with and others we abhor with intensity.
It is how we embrace them that matters.
1. we can cover them up and be unaccepting of ourselves and our self perceived ugliness.
Or
2. we can be completely unabashed, and unashamedly display them.
The first is our natural instinct
The second takes work, a hell of a lot of work.
When I was quite young I had an altercation with a barbed wire fence.
It left a raised horrid scar on my upper inner thigh.
I hated that scar with a passion
for years
But now I barely ever think of it
It is still there
still the same as it ever was
it is not a concern to me anymore
Time has healed.
I have other scars
hidden soul scars
Too many of them
I chose the first route for years
but there was so many toxins festering beneath them
I finally realised if I didn’t choose the second route I would never ever heal completely.
I have only recently chosen to confront and display my scars
And in so doing am coming to a place of positivity
And a place of content peacefulness.
A year ago I had a most fortuitous encounter with a lovely woman who has since become a friend.
Sera lit up my life 🙂
That encounter unleashed so many opportunities.
Looking back I love seeing the unfolding of chance encounters.
Is it really chance?
Karma?
Fate?
Coincidence?
We used to say that a ‘coincidence is just a miracle in which God chooses to remain anonymous’
Whatever way you look at it
that meeting was the beginning of so many positive things for me.
Sera was wearing the most wonderful jacket.
Being someone who loves mixed media I was immediately drawn to it and to the message it was portraying.
‘Be Still My Sacred Heart‘
That resonated so loudly in my damaged and vulnerable soul.
That jacket and it’s branding is the baby of Amanda Betts
She began Bridge the Gap Project to support and empower young victims of abuse.
The Heartspeak Collective allows victims/survivors to tell their stories through art and fashion.
I was so inspired and absolutely delighted to finally meet and spend time in Auckland with the dynamic and enthusiastically energetic Amanda a few months later.
I then began communicating with Sera about creating my own garment with her.
When I began talking with her about Heartspeaking a garment it seemed a natural progression to use my tattoo as part of my creation.
My phoenix is in a fairly private part of my anatomy
Only comes out in summer 😉
My eldest son reminds me often that scars are the tattoos of the brave.
The Phoenix is my Brave rising from the ashes of my abuse and heartbreak.
Perfect!
I also loved Sera’s cocoons so decided to combine those two loves.
We physically connected a few weeks ago and began working.
We spent the day choosing, cutting and piecing fabrics.
It was so much fun working with her on the project
I was so in my element
Back in my happy space that I haven’t been in for so long
It was feeding my creative mojo and incredibly therapeutic
I had to leave Sera to finish it as I needed to return home.
The following week I was transiting through Auckland airport and Sera delivered the finished garment to me.
I was blown away
So rapt
Ecstatically happy with the results.
It is absolutely perfectly Me 🙂
Thank you Sera
And Thank you Amanda
You have touched my heart and helped towards the healing of my soul
Each Heartspeak garment has a heart tucked in it somewhere.
Mine is the large orange flower – of course 😉
And the words in the banner – also from my tattoo
illa alis volat propriis
(She flies with her own wings) I was also delighted to hear Amanda exclaim that the blue/orange flames were cut from one of her old dresses.
So I feel like am carrying a piece of her and Sera with me where I go.
Turning Wounds into Power
This year has been one of immense growth for me.
I have finally found my voice
And now that I have, my wounds have become words that hold so much strength and power.
Since I came completely out of my closet back in May life has really gained momentum
There’s been some really hard times but the positive things are outweighing those.
Early June I was interviewed by the lovely Megan Bowers-Vette
She was wanting to portray abuse survivors not as victims but as people with renewed strength & life
The US Project was begun with a photography exhibition in Whangarei
Then released in the most amazing heart rending book
I am so proud to have been able to work with Megan in this project
She has done a brilliant job depicting 50 people in NZ & Australia who are daily living with the consequences from the experience of rape, and other forms of sexual abuse.
She has now published The Us. Project Book of Stories
It is a tremendous book portraying so much heartache, and yet so much strength.
Such a powerful communication
I would encourage you to buy this book
Read, pass it on, share it around
Open peoples eyes to truths
Where so many refuse to see and choose to stay blinded.
I was interviewed by UNICEF a couple of months ago.
It was an incredible privilege to work with Shelley on this project.
To be able to speak out on behalf of other children
Children like me who are being silenced
Not by violence
But by emotional headfucking
Which is more silencing
Because of the lack of ability that people have to see and understand what is happening
The support which has come from the video and article has been huge.
My hope is that it reaches and helps many young ones to speak out and find help and to prevent so many more from experiencing what I did.
I know that this is a really tough subject
It is very confronting to so many
Especially those who are connected in a vicarious way to a victim
But what has to be remembered
When dealing with this type of trauma
Is that the victim
Is the victim
and
The victim
should not
is not
to be blamed
or shamed
or accused
or doubted
No matter how difficult it is for you to process
You have to stop
and think
and just listen
and actually
hear
their pain
hear
their truth
because it is their truth
and you cannot dispute their truth
You have to stop
disbelieving
victim blaming
victim shaming
You have to stop
supporting
encouraging
allowing behavioural continuance
to the perpetrators
Just because they appear to be
so good
so important
so squeaky clean
so -‘oh they would never do anything like that’
You have to stop
questioning
why didn’t you disclose earlier
why didn’t you say something at the time
why did you wear that
why did you go there
why did you drink that
and the worst one of all
why didn’t you confront your abuser?????
Seriously???
Unless you have lived the pain
You have absolutely NO IDEA
of the why
to any of these questions
You have absolutely NO IDEA
of the re-traumatising that happens
from your questions
from disclosing
from the doubting
from the demands
You put on us
Please just stop
and love us
hold us
and give us space
and time
to heal
in our own ways
in our own time
We so need you
If you can do this for us
We can heal
We can become strong
We can face the world again
And we will totally kick arse and become even stronger than before!
Therapy
Therapy
-a treatment that helps someone feel better, grow stronger,
-the act of caring for someone
I used to think therapy was the difficult stuff
the hour long sessions spent with my therapist
But
it’s not
Therapy has
many colours
many forms
many shapes
many times
Therapy
for me
is writing
is meeting a friend for coffee and and one on one time
is time & fun with my children
is taking the dog for a quiet meander along the river walk
is impulsively popping in for a chat with a friend
is sweating up a steep hill track and taking in the spectacular views from the top of my achievement
is impulsively shopping
is leaning into the arms of my closest tribal members and sobbing my heart out
is allowing them to feel my pain
is receiving their love and encouragement
is watching movies that make me cry, and laugh, and think
is sharing my innermost soulful thoughts with my best friend
is spending a day in bed with Netflix just because I can
is messaging my lover in the early hours of the morning
is sharing belly laughing crazy wine drinking sessions with my tribe
is creating art
is accepting the love and understanding of my man
is being held safe in his arms
is sitting at the beach and soaking in the sunshine
is planning my garden
is clambering around slippery river rocks with my children
is walking beside others who have also experienced my journey
is creating something joyous and wonderful and beautiful
is dancing wild and free
is making love
is gloriously wonderful food
is coffee
is orange :-)Therapy is caring for me in a way that restores my soul
But
I find
it tends to come delivered on a roller coaster
I delight in the parts of the ride that are slow
easy
soothing
cruising
but
while I am enjoying them I don’t tend to notice that the car I am riding in is beginning to climb…
Until I am perched at the top
rocking
waiting
then….
horrifyingly
the ride it gets to be screamingly scary
Situations arise
Events happen
my carriage plunges
down
down
down
brutally intense
it makes me writhe in pain
I feel as if I am being torn apart
the anguish of the years
comes pouring out of my eyes
without permission
and when I think
I just cannot bare another moment,
when I am totally emotionally spent
the roller coaster reaches the bottom
and quietly cruises again
I gasp and gulp and reel
from the carnage wrought on my soul
I nurse my bruises
then realise
I made it through
that time
I begin the gentle soul soothing nurturing
knowing that this time
I have been made stronger
so that the next time my carriage reaches its peak
the pain won’t be as raw
the screaming not as loud
the ride down not as intense
nor as long
Nayyirah Waheed expresses it so well
recovering
healing
from abuse
is not an easy journey
it is wrought with hard seasons
but it is not an impossible journey
if you are willing to reach out
and accept the hands
who want to love you
but the hardest thing of all
for us
is