Monday, August 29, 2011

IN-TO-ME-TO-SEE



True intimacy begins with the use of “I “statements:

I feel…
I need…
I am…
I want…
I like…
I don’t like…
I can’t stand…
I love…

But that’s just one part of true intimacy…
The other part is what follows the “I “statement…
........raw honesty
The last part is how it’s received by the one who its shared with…
.........listening without judgment in a safe comforting and loving space
True intimacy is normally difficult…
........it is even harder for survivors
Intimacy is just that …sharing to let someone IN-TO-ME-TO-SEE
What has helped you to let someone in to see you?

YELLING!!! ..... I dislike it!

YELLING!  I don’t like yelling: one person yelling or screaming at another.  I don’t like to hear it, be around it and I definitely make it a point not to do it. It’s the escalating of someone’s voice. It is the anger that is transmitted from their mouth to my ears. It is the force in which they speak. It is the demands and cruel words and tones that follow. I can’t stand it! There is a sense of horror that I immediately feel when I am exposed to it. I feel unsettled when I’m around it even if it has nothing to do with me.  For a moment while in that environment I am unnerved and frightened.
Yelling produces several reactions for me… I find myself almost waiting till it’s my turn to be yelled at. I start to feel responsible even when I have nothing to do with it. I immediately wish and start to look for ways that I can fix the situation.
Where did that come from? Childhood patterns are hard to change. As a child, yelling was an alarm. It ment: stand up, pay attention, try to fix whatever is wrong, stay low, listen, think, what can you do to make it better, what can you do to not get into trouble. Hearing yelling would make my mind immediately go into over drive, hyper thinking, reacting, problem solving even when it wasn’t my problem. As an adult I still have these reactions.
I have learned though that someone yelling is really on the person doing the yelling. It is about them, and I have absolutely nothing to do with it. They are choosing to yell. They are choosing that as their mode of communication. There are other ways to communicate, but they have chosen that, and I don’t have to react. It’s not my job to save, fix, make better or react. It’s not my job nor my responsibility. Yelling is just another way for people to communicate. I for one don’t agree that it’s the best way, but it is one way. There obviously are others.
People are wonderfully expressive creatures who have the ability to choose. I for one make it my goal to choose to not yell. Now I’m not saying I have not yelled. Oh yes I have yelled and or raised my voice. However, I can honestly say that each time that has happened It didn’t help me obtain the results that I wanted. In fact, in the long run, it made things worse. Yelling is a form of being out of control. The person doing the yelling is out of control, which then flips a switch in me that produces feelings of being out of control and me trying to fix the situation. One situation fuels the next.
As a young child, once the yelling started, the point, (if there was one) was lost. I shut down and immediately became like a robot. Mentally going thru my data base of what to do and doing all the things I thought I needed to do to produce one end result: Keeping me out of harm’s way. There were those times that I would disassociate. They were probably worse because I was so removed from the moment I could not engage enough to react quickly enough to manage the situation.  End results would be disastrous.  I was a small young child trying to manage an adult who was yelling.  Something is wrong with that picture.
As an adult I now know and understand that communication is a choice. How you communicate is also a choice. Because of my upbringing, I have become increasingly aware of the need to be respectful of others when I speak. Communication- joins me and you together for a moment in time. I have learned that if you wish to be heard, speak so that someone WANTS to listen. Don’t speak because they HAVE to listen.  When I speak, I understand that that moment in time, once spoken, can’t be erased. I try to be aware of content, expression and tone. Once spoken, I can’t take it back. (That last sentence you read is now in our past and it’s too late to take it back).  I try to speak in a respectful voice. Not just for the other person but more so for me. I am a firm believer that what you send out from yourself… will come back to you.  (Wish someone had explained all this to my mother)
I wish my children to not fear me when I speak…. I want them to not just hear me when I speak … I want my children to listen … I want my children to be able to listen… not just with their ears but ….. with their soul. I want my children to also know how to communicate and for that to happen I understand I have to be an example.
My childhood was painful but I am turning that around and using that pain to make a difference in how I parent my own children.
So for me and my house… we will not be yelling.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Please tell my mommy and daddy...

I am spreading the message that child abuse is not right
I am standing with others who are standing to fight
No more hitting, beating, yelling or screams
Children need love, protection, nurturing and dreams
I pray that my story touches more than one
I will keep on sharing it because I’m not done
Expressing myself and saying the truth
No more hiding in shame about my youth
I was hit and hurt and degraded and shamed
Those who do this to children deserve all the blame
Time is my friend because going forward I’ll do
Anything and everything to make it clear to you
Don’t hit your children and be careful of what you say
The damage once done you can’t take away
The pain, shame and changes to their soul
When you hit, yell and beat a child… What is your goal?
Think for a moment what are you trying to do?
Make a child be quiet because they are bothering you?
Children deserve your patience, love and your praise
I was a child once I know of what I say
Don’t take away a child’s soul it’s the only one they have
Don’t beat who they are out of them just to make yourself glad
I ask you to hear me and hear my pain
I am crying out to you to stop and stop again
Saying you are doing “the best you can” as you rape a child’s soul
You are no longer ignorant now because you have been told
Of the hurt and pain you can cause as a result of actions that you do
Stop! Please hear me now make changes in your life and you
Time is what you have so think of that today
Don’t hit or scream or beat think of another way
Your child deserves the best they are a gift you see
Treat them as if they are glass as they break so easily
Wish someone had explained this to my mother when I was just a child
Perhaps she would have listened and taken a lifetime vow
To not hurt me.... my soul..... and I
Not kill the little girl that lived alone inside
Please hear my story
I tell it regardless of my pride
I am standing with others who now stand tall by my side
We are a band of many who are telling our story true
Praying you will hear us and make a difference in you

Sunday, August 21, 2011

#Prayer4today

New challenge.... whats your #prayer4today? Doesnt need to be formal. Doesnt need to be long. Doesnt need to be loud. Doesnt need to make sense to anyone else...

It can be one word, two words, three or more
It can be said on bended knee or while standing straight on the floor
It can be said loud as you can or spoken softly from your soul
It is your special prayer and it just needs to come from your core....


Nightmare twin

THIS POST MAY HAVE TRIGGERS-PLEASE BE SAFE. MAKE SURE YOU ARE SAFE BEFORE YOU READ THIS. YOUR SAFETY IS THE MOST IMPORTANT THING.
Haunted...that's the word that best describes something I know...something I remember...something I still feel...the fear was so real it had a taste, it had physical components, it had movement, it was like a person, someone I would later learn that I would know forever.

It has no name...but it has sounds...it has no face but it has feelings, it has movement, it has life...it can't breathe, it shakes with fear...it waits...it is fear personified...it is impending doom. It is a nightly visitor now...it is not my friend, though it is as close to me as a best friend should be. It is not kind or sweet or caring. It is not fluffy or cute or soft or warm. Its signature is simple–it qualifies as one's total lifetime experience of fear in a one-shot dose.

A Shot...shoot...something I still remember, "click"...something I still hear...fear climbing up my back...grasping my heart...stopping for a minute to grab my throat, seizing my breathing. My hands are tied. My voice is in the off position. My eyes are trained on what I see in front of me...my mind thinks quickly about what will happen...too much, can't figure it out...quickly I figure my sibling will be safe...I will be no more but at least he won't have this memory...She takes me down memory lane... not mine but hers...she is such a sharing individual...she shares all of her hate, pain and anger on me, towards me. She gives it freely...no one could say she was stingy. She fills my small cup of self with all her dismal, dark, negative thoughts, observations and truths. I am lost in them....then in an instant...by the pull of the trigger...."Click"...she has changed my world forever...she birthed someone who would be with me forever, she birthed someone that would grow with me, Someone who sleeps sometimes but can be so awake, vivid and real at others. She gave life to fear in sleep—Nightmares...haunting.

The child she birthed...it only has one parent...my mother birthed it and it lives with me as if it is my twin. I close my eyes to sleep, to dream...to find peace and she is there waiting to share what she alone knows...the amazement for me is the realness, the details, the taste of fear, the feelings in my legs and arms...the "Click"...it is all recorded and plays like a feature film starring me. She is an amazing individual who holds vivid pictorials with sound, lights, action and real terrorizing emotion. What I have learned is that the memories of Nightmare child have always been there...but she was given full life potential that night. She may have only developed into a possibility or an occasional visitor prior to that night...the night that life was breathed into her soul....and she continues to fight to survive, though I fight often to silence her...

Haunting...that's her name...she is my Nightmares...she is my pain...she is my fear...she is me not safe, she is me exposed, she is me screaming inside, she is me bleeding, she is me bruised, she is me scared, she is me being beaten, she is me being shamed, she is me hurt, she is me battered, she is me alone. She is me...that's my point...the nightmares are me...they are me personified. They are me...and me is her...I struggle to get rid of her...but that's the point...she is me...and I am her...I hope to find a way we can co-exist in a world where my sleep and dreams are no longer dues that I pay to be awake in a world that I struggle so hard to be me (without disassociating) in.

May God Bless all those who experience Nightmares due to being abused as children...the children in us deserve safety...the adult in us deserves a good night's sleep...

"The Devil Wears Prada".... Yep they always do

I am spending my Sunday catching up on my blogging: reading and posting J. I have everything I need at my fingertips, coffee, comfy chair, cell phone and laptop and a movie running in the background for company … “The Devil Wears Prada”.. this movie quickly moved to the forefront.
It’s an outstanding movie featuring one of my favorite actresses Meryl Streep
Summary of movie:In New York, the simple and naive just-graduated in journalism Andrea Sachs is hired to work as the second assistant of the powerful and sophisticated Miranda Priestly, the ruthless and merciless executive of the Runway fashion magazine. Andrea dreams to become a journalist and faces the opportunity as a temporary professional challenge. The first assistant Emily advises Andrea about the behavior and preferences of their cruel boss, and the stylist Nigel helps Andrea to dress more adequately for the environment. Andrea changes her attitude and behavior, affecting her private life and the relationship with her boyfriend Nate, her family and friends all to match the needs of Miranda. In the end, Andrea learns that life is made of choices.” As outlined on IMBD.com
For me “Prada”- in just a label for temptation- it looks good, it’s expensive, it draws attention, it is lavish, it glitters, its gold. It’s something you think you want.
Who’s wearing it? The Devil…someone dangling what you think you desire in front of you.
Now, what must you do to get to have what the Devil is offering or has?
Yep that’s the question. Are you ready for the answer?
It could mean giving up your soul….
That’s what happened. As a child it was required of me to go against who I was to get what I needed. I don’t think anyone ever sat me down and said “You will alter your attitude and behavior just to get x, y or z” No it was much more subtle. It was found in statements, actions, requests, manipulations and punishments. My being, desired so many different things, that I did what I felt I had to get what I thought I needed. This behavior continued into adult hood…
It is evident in so many parts of my life. From the decision to marry, to the way I’ve handled my professional life. Fast forward: I am an adult: Single mom. Must do and perform all the functions of mothering, raising a family, and functioning in society.
In the movie there are several examples of the main character Andrea being requested to do things that goes against what she feels is right. The bar was low at first and each time she completes another task for her boss the bar is raised. She completes the next task and the bar is raised again. All the while Andrea is changing to become someone that she is not. All to become and have things that she feels are necessary or that she thinks she desires. She loses her boyfriend and her friends along this process.
I’ve been there done that. Traded some very important things for what I believed was a need to stay employed: Long hours, going against the grain of my being, trading my values for the needs of the business. All the while changing and moving farther away from my soul.
I have made a conscious decision and effort to no longer get lulled to sleep by temptation of things that aren’t true for me. I am currently evaluating what I want and what speaks to my soul and how can I obtain that and what price, if any, I’m willing to pay. I’ve lost some very important things over the past year.
Lesson learned: Don’t change for anyone. We all have to do things on a daily basis that we don’t like. But when the changes are feeling like sacrifices. Relook at what you are doing. See if there is a better way or different way to accomplish while not losing your soul to the Devil. Temptation is the devils most viable tool. It can be emotional trade off, physical, or monetary that is the payment.
As a child my mother was representative of “The Devil”. As a child, one doesn’t know what they desire, everything is what you want and you will do everything to get it… but remember... you are a student of life at that point.  As an adult “success as seen by someone else” was representative of my temptation.  The difference in me now vs. me as a child, is I can choose. Change direction, if that’s necessary. Stop moving in the wrong direction. I am doing that these days. I put an end to being directed by the wrong things and have started getting back to basics. Much like the character in the movie, I suddenly woke up and did inventory of my life. I realized that I had changed to equate someone else’s expectations for my life and not my own. No more. “I am in control of my life. The Devil or anyone else can be wearing whatever they want. If it doesn’t fit me and MY picture of my life… then guess what? It doesn’t come into my life.”
Sounds wonderfully in control, right? Truth is, it’s a work in progress. Changing direction in one’s life can be traumatic. I am experiencing the trauma of this now. You have to learn to trust your inner voice, your feelings, your thoughts… You have to learn what a true feeling is for yourself and confirm that it is yours and not someone else’s. You have to learn what your truth feels like…and not allow outside influences to change your truth.
I’m learning what my truth feels like… I am a work in progress.
Thanks to the movie “The Devil Wears Prada”… I saw that my experience in not uncommon.
Can you relate to this?

Sunday, August 14, 2011

My Favorite Color


A child taken apart loses things
Like the ability to reach out
Or the ability to be
Confidence in who you are, is what is needed to
Be able to accomplish, and do all you do
I had a favorite color...one day and one time
But for some reason, I can’t find it in my mind
I think it was yellow bright like the sun
It was a color in the rainbow, I just can’t remember which one
It could have been red or blue or orange or green
But whatever it was ....it was a part of me
I lost that child, in a swamp of bad stuff...
I am regaining her spirit today, but it’s been rough
I can’t remember which color was a favorite of mine
It was special, and seeing it made me feel divine
That color, was my favorite back then
Since I am starting my life and beginning again...
I’ve decided to choose a new color...its true!
It can’t be red or green or blue
You see....it must be a mixture of colors I’ve seen
Because it needs to reflect the mixture of me
I have chosen this color as a new beginning in time
It is my color of choice...it reflects my life
It is Peach…Yes!... that's my favorite color today
It is my life, and a representative in a way
Of a beginning for a me, a truth that I feel
Peach is my favorite color, and that’s a big deal!




Something written by my daughter....



I am a single mother  (divorced)... a divorce is a difficult thing to go thru for all involved. Especially the children...My children are now young adults...

My daughter wrote this the other day in response to a conversation her and I had regarding the divorce ...


"You carry alot of weight from the past,
like how all the stuff had happen back then with my dad,
and how I grew up hating him
but I still loved what I had a loving mother by my side
I felt like that was all I need to build my pride,
but until you look into my eyes you will never see the lie,
that I will probably spend my whole life looking for a father figure to be by my side..."

Written by A for B


A divorce can leave life long effects...



There are only so many lies you can tell before the truth has to come out....


TRIGGERS there may be triggers in this post. Please make sure you are safe and in a good place before you proceed.

There are only so many lies you can tell before the truth has to come out…

Definition of a lie- A type of deception in the form of an untruthful statement, especially with the intention to deceive others.
Definition of truth- Sincerity in action, character and utterance

As a child being abused you learn to lie. Not on purpose, not to purposefully deceive, but to protect the one person who needed protection… You.
You learn to say you are fine even when you are not. You learn to smile even when you don’t want to. You learn to keep secrets even when you should tell.  Lying becomes a form of protection… like a warm blanket of comfort. Cover the wounds. Keep things going…
I was in my early teens… Daddy was away on business for a few days. I hated when he left because that would mean she could be horrifically abusive all day and night until he returned. I was always scared and on high alert when Daddy was away from the house.
This particular time was truly one of the worst. She had been intensely cruel and in her rage and sadistic systematic way of unjustified discipline she had threw a fork at my sibling. It missed his eye by millimeters. If he had blinked or moved just a bit, the fork, which left a pierced mark on his upper cheek would have hit him in the eye. The soul damaging ramifications of her years of abusive actions became more apparent when Daddy returned.
In a conversation over dinner the question is posed “What happened to your eye?”  Daddy is asking my younger sibling. The entire family is present at the table. There is a moment of silence as the answer, the truth, chokes in my throat stifling my ability to breathe. I literally stop breathing and quickly start to disassociate from moment. Then I hear the answer… whispered from the mouth of my brother… “I fell”.  The meal continues. Dinner is complete. It was at that moment that I realized my family had problems.  We were liars and this type of cover up had been going on my entire life.
I’m not sure what makes that moment stand out for me. Perhaps the events of the night before (I will write about them later) were so overwhelming for me that I was a new person sitting there that day. Perhaps it was the hope that my sibling would be stronger than me and tell the truth and save us both from having to continue living in Mothers wrath. Perhaps it was that my last hope to be saved had just been played out and I knew it. Perhaps it was the realization that my sibling, like me, had learned to lie about his pain and fears and for some reason I felt responsible for that lesson.
I learned to lie to purposefully deceive right inside my own home. I learned to lie to others. The worst was that I learned to lie to myself: Smiling… even when I didn’t want to. Saying I was fine when I wasn’t. Hiding bruises and pain from others. Holding in my tears, even though I hurt.  Thru healing I learned that holding in pain was damaging but equally as damaging was the lies. We were a family that consisted of false smiles, false stories, false airs, we were a public fake.  My family wore makeup in the world. Many people saw my family and thought that we were the perfect family. We always smiled. The kids were the most well behaved. We were always seen together going out. We were always seen outside together cleaning up. We, the kids were polite and mannerly.  We were actors in our own play.
Those are examples of some of the lies…

Then there is the truth…
My family was broken. Each of us was a piece of a bigger larger broken piece. I was a child. I deserved to be a child. I was being hurt often and deeply. I lived in daily fear that rattled the core of my soul. I wasn’t safe. I had to always be one step ahead of an adult deceptive mind… I was growing up in fear. There was fighting amongst the parents, there was yelling, there was throwing of things, there were beatings of children, there were mind games being played, there was fear, pain and hurt often.
My childhood was filled with abuse and redundancy of sadistic treatment that only encouraged lying to be the norm. My adulthood is now filled with moments of truth and being able to tell it.
It is a work in progress that I am learning to be able to say what my childhood is and was and…. its ok.  I am not in that war anymore. I am an adult. I don’t have to lie anymore. The reality of what I went thru is my truth and I can own it and tell it.
The confusion of doing one thing and saying another or hiding one thing to protect another causes confusion and pain…. I don’t have to live in that confusion. That day at the dinner table, I started to see thru the fog. Trusting what my soul is telling me these days is an important step in my journey. As a child I learned to ignore and not trust my soul because everything around me dictated that my soul’s voice must be buried if I was going to be safe. It’s not easy… but I try every day to say a little more of my truth. To speak my truth! Not just about my childhood but also about the here and now. To speak truth about my feelings, my life, my experiences, and my place in my world feels so good.  It’s very easy to go back to what was taught to us a child and there are days that I struggle with being comfortable doing this but I am making progress.
You don’t have to say a lot… but those first few words of truth can be so freeing…
So I ask … what is your truth? How do you feel today? (Breath the question in and let the answer flow out…)
My answer:   Today I am a little tired. I feel happy nor sad… just content to be. I am being lazy and relaxing with myself and later, my kids.
What would your answer be?

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

"I wont let you sacrifice yourself"



"I won’t let you sacrifice yourself"
That’s what was said…
"What do you mean?" I ask
It is explained….

As a child you were taught to give ALL of you away …. You HAD to give … PUNISHED if you didn’t extract EVERYTHING and hand it over…
when that was gone….
You were EXPECTED to …
extract more....

Stop!
“You don’t have to do that anymore “
Breathe in deeply… take it in…

Stop!
“I won’t let you sacrifice yourself”
Breathe in deeply…. Feel it…

I am seen
Someone sees me
My soul was acknowledged in that moment…
It hurt….
I cried….
I sobbed….
Like taking my first breath of air as an infant

In that moment…. I was born…….Again
Thank You BH

I say
" Dont let anyone sacrifice you ... You are valued"
Stop... Breathe it in... Feel it

My name is Touched2MySoul



I get asked “Where did that name come from?” and "How did you come up with it?" Well, very simply….

It describes my life….

My soul was touched a first time - My childhood - Nothing hurt as much as what was done to my soul.. .to my being.. To the essence of who I was supposed to be….

My soul was touched a second time - My adulthood - Nothing healed as much as my belief that “someone prayed for me“ and out of that my adult life has been blessed with the things I didn’t learn or experience as a child….Trust, love, joy, strength, safety, touch, ….Being heard, listening, tears, smiles, joys,  laughs and most importantly my soul…. I am now getting to experience my soul and who I am….. who I am supposed to be.

I’ve been touched to my soul … twice…Once on the hurt going in…and a second time on the joys coming out…

I am Touched 2 My Soul… very nice to meet you!

Sunday, August 7, 2011

Can’t Reach Out


I can’t reach out today
Not that I don’t want to anyway
For my past is the reason why
I never learned to reach from inside
I’ve tried to reach out … oh yes I have
I’ve wanted to reach out and be heard oh so bad
But demons… Yes, that’s what they are
Are afraid you will see my scars
Don’t want to be judged for feeling scared
Want to be held and feel cared
Afraid you will reject that which I’ve felt so long
Why? Cause you have never experienced my song
The melody I carry inside continues to show... but sometimes hides
I am hurting and it’s not my pride
I wish for arms big and strong to hold me
A chest to lay on and a space to be me
For I have fallen…. for just a short time
It happens every once in awhile
Each time I figure it out on my own
Today is no different, I am alone
I can’t reach out…. wish it was safe
But I’m not sure if you can hear my pain
Don’t want nothing from you

Just a moment in time
Time that you would listen to my rhyme
For in my tears and feelings of pain
Is a child that surfaces over and over again
She is an adult... most of the time
But today.... she is a child of mine
Please don’t hurt her as she is trying to learn
If reaching out will mean she gets burned
She wants … No, she needs to cry
She is asking for you to be by her side
Hold her for just a moment in time
For she will grow up to be an adult of mine.

Monday, August 1, 2011

I feel because I do.... I am because I am

Please note there may be triggers in this post... Please make sure you are safe before continuing.  Your safety is the most important thing. 


"Stop crying before I give you something to cry about" 
or 
"every time you move or put your hand in the way.... You get 5 more"


"Stop crying or I'll give u something to cry about"- unfortunately this is a popular phrase used by many parents. Emotional pain, Physical hurt, disappointment, and fear just to name a few feelings that can produce crying. These are just some of the feelings one feels when they are being taken apart by someone they trust. She was my mother... She gave birth to me.

 I was already crying as the statement shows. I was already experiencing something that was producing sorrow enough to produce tears but I was being told to stop feeling. I was told that my pain, hurt, sorrow, fear must be put away. Moved to somewhere else and if I didn't get rid of it and quick... I was going to be hurt more as outlined by her comment "every time you move or put your hand in the way.... You get 5 more".....Do you know how difficult it is to not feel pain? She would hit with all her might. Drawing blood. Leaving marks on the walls, furniture and floors when she missed her mark. Her mark being me........I eventually  found the strength to not cry, make a sound or move from the pain....... it took years.   I would disassociate - leave the scene. Disappear, die.   It ultimately became my victory that I wouldn't cry in front of her. Since when does holding in your emotions become a victory? 

As I grew up I learned to push my pain down inside, stuff it away, don't feel it. I then didn't know when it was appropriate to feel pain and express it. I experienced  a second degree burn from scalding water that I accidentally spilled on my arm as a teenager. It happened as I was removing a cup of boiling water from the microwave. I was in a room filled with adults, my uncle, mother, father and other guests. I never made a sound. I remember it was excruciating pain. I was afraid to tell anyone because I thought that they would see me as stupid for spilling the water and dumber for crying. I have a permanent scar on my arm from that incident as well as a scar on my soul. I never learned it was ok to feel pain and it was ok to express it. My pain was never validated. I never learned when it's appropriate or how it's appropriate to express when something hurts. In stead I learned to take it, accept it,raise my pain thresh hold. My pain was invalid. Her goal was to make me invalid. 

I am not invalid today. I am not  invisible. If something hurts I have learned by testing the waters ... That it's ok tell someone. Its small things that I can express safely.  Deeper feelings of hurt or disappointment are more difficult to share and often don't get shared ( I'm working on this with some success).  I have limited experience in expressing my pains, my sorrows in a safe environment. It's going to take time and trust.  I have learned to be able to say " this hurts my feelings". What a wonderful thing to be able to say " I'm hurt " and feel that and know that someone has heard you. 

 A child deserves the right to express their emotions. Say what they feel. Be validated as a feeling expressive individual. If one gets to do that as a child ... They don't grow up looking for validation as an adult. They feel because they do. They are because they are. Today I know that I feel because I do and  I am because i am.  One can heal, one can become valid after being taught that they are invalid. One can learn to breath in a moment and breath it out and not feel like they will break or shatter into pieces of broken glass. Is it easy? No. But I am learning that the same strength it took to endure the pain of my childhood... Is the same strength it takes to release the pain now... To get back that which was stolen from me. 

I am because I am..... You are because you are
God bless those who can relate .... Know that we are not alone.