Jumpin' Off the Edge

I recently wrote about how sexual abuse I experienced as a child impacted me as an adult. I was surprised at the number of people who called me brave because I spoke about it. It got me thinking about how powerful and destructive secrets can be. We keep things to ourselves because we are ashamed of them. Yet, by protecting the secret, we harm ourselves more. It is when we acknowledge our imperfections that the healing begins. The day I wrote about how the abuse affected me something in me cracked open. It was not an easy day. I spent the evening sobbing for my lost innocence. I felt the weight of my uncle on me all over again. I heard the neighbor boy telling me what to do in the closet. I saw the man who date raped me ignore me when I said I didn’t want to have sex. All very real feelings. Raw emotions came forth as I felt like I was breaking into a thousand tiny pieces. Yet, with each tear I shed came a fragment of peace and light. Once the secret was out, the power of the past

One in five girls is sexually abused. I am the one. I know I am not alone. Sexual abuse has messed with me in ways I am just now beginning to understand. Sexual abuse brings with it shame. It brings secrets. It brings questions. Today, it brought tears as I wrote about coming to terms with yet another part of how it has impacted my life. I contemplated keeping this one private. Instead, I am choosing the vulnerability of bringing you along on my journey of becoming the Me I want to be. If it helps just one person, it was worth it. When I was five years old, my innocence was taken from me when my uncle lifted up my nightgown, laid on top of me and said, “This is what people do when they are in love.” Needless to say, love scares the hell out of me. In less time than it took Sonny and Cher to entertain their viewers, the way I saw myself as a female was changed for 45 years. It took me years to acknowledge it was sexual abuse. It has taken even longer to identify and accept the way

As Patti’s healing continues, it is sometimes not so easy to continue to find blessings in it. She is frustrated by her limp. A limp which slows her down and has people frequently asking her if she is okay. Yet, it is in her limp, that my blessing comes. I tend to walk fast everywhere I go. Growing up, I often had the shortest legs in my group of friends. I learned how to take two strides in the time it took them to take one. At school, I speed walk through the halls to get to where I am going. I leave school right at 3:30 and usually go right home. I frequently stop to experience what is around me, but rarely slow down. I enjoy having my children along with me when doing things. In the past they have asked me to slow down. I had a tendency to get where we were going quickly and wait for them there. My feet just felt the need to move. And then Patti got hit by a car. The blessing of life and the ability to walk continue to be easy to identify. In the month since she has been hit,

  It is funny how life has a way of bringing people into our life when we need them most. Even more so when we don’t know how much a random person we meet can have an impact on us. I have been thinking about her all night wondering about the next part of her story. A series of unplanned events lead me to her. It had been one of those days at school when the contracted time to leave could not come soon enough. State testing, 7 th graders off the wall, and not enough time in the day to get done what needed to get done left me drained. Rather than run out to the nearest bar for a drink when the bell rang, I sat with a friend and colleague and chatted. Before we knew it, an hour had passed. We said our goodbyes and headed toward home for some relaxation. The only thing I had to eat all day was a banana. I figured I would stop at Burger King on the way home for something to take the edge off the hunger pangs. I am not sure why Burger King was the chosen fast food joint. I had ne