The untold story of my body and my past… My first time admitting this….
Pain is my body. Not only because of aging, because of my past.
I have always been tough on myself, physically, spiritually, and emotionally.
This will be one of the hardest stories I will write about my journey in this life, thus far.
When I was young, a mere child. I was… molested.
I was molested by a stranger and by a family acquaintance of my parents' “friend”. To this day, my father and mother won’t admit it or talk about it. So I talk about it with my therapist and with people I trust, who care about me.
This was nearly thirty years ago. I still have memories of it. Sometimes, the intrusive memories haunt me. Sometimes, when I look at my children, I have a pang of fear for their well-being. I know I will never, ever, let anything happen to them. But… I am a working mother and can’t be with them 24/7 watching them, making sure they are safe when they aren’t with me. This will always be a worry in the back of my mind.
When I was barely an adult, it happened again, the sexual assault. I was coerced to have a form of sex which was beyond cruel. This person (who karma found, and he got what he deserved), was a cruel and manipulative human being. He is in prison for his crimes, for I was not his…
