Her hand trembled as she reached closer to the door knob.
“I shouldn’t do this.” Doubt and fears tried to silence her. “I can’t do this!”
That hand froze midair.
“Do it! Just do it!” the voice said.
The coldness from the door knob sent chills down her spine and made her stomach churn but she took a deep breath and opened the door.
Darkness…pitch black engulfed her as the door flung open. Fear crawled around the nape of her neck. She wanted to run, as far as she could from that place but her feet refused to move.
Then she heard faint sounds. Faint weak sounds, she had to shut her eyes tightly to quiet her thoughts to listen.
It’s coming from somewhere in the corner of that dark room.
She ordered her legs to walk, to follow that sound.
The sound began to increase with each and every step. The knot in her stomach twisted as she saw something on the dark floor, something was moving.
No no no!!! She gasped as she got down on her knees right in front of a shaking crying little body curled up in a fetal position.
That little stained face looked up and in those two eyes she saw terror, pain, fear, and hurt, all rolled into one.
Ever so gently she lifts that little shivering body up on her lap.
“It’s ok little girl…” she whispered softly, the little body stiffens as she begins to rub her frail back.
“Let me help you…” tears well up in her eyes as she rocks that child on her lap. “Its okay, you are safe now. It is not your fault”
And with that, a deep most painful wailing escaped from that broken child filling the room with grief.
Together they cried and together they will heal…
Many years ago little Maureen’s wings were severed in ways that no child should ever experience.
Last year I took all the courage I ever had to tell my parents what I went through as a child. They were hurt. I was hurt. We all were hurting.
There is still a lot to mend on the inside. I have to fix little Maureen so I can feel whole again to start a new life.
There has been a lot of soul searching since last year and I am not where I want to be yet…
Not quite healed…
This is the hardest post I have ever written but it’s one I need to write…
Where do I start?
Where do I begin?
What am I going to write?
These questions have been going circling around in my head for the past few days.
But I need to write it…
Will it help me understand what had really happened?
Will it help me heal?
Only time can tell…
Maybe by opening the lid and allowing some light into it will cast away the darkness. By exposing it in the most raw honest way I am taking my power back. It is no longer about him and his threats to keep it a secret. He is no longer a threat. It is all about that broken little girl inside me.
Maybe, just maybe allowing that little girl to stand up and say the lines that I never thought I could say will help both her and I heal. Not talking about it doesn’t help. Pretending it never happened only prolonged my dysfunctional ways. Opening up seems like the best way. Although it terrified me, I know this is my truth and my truth will set me free.
“I was sexually abused as a child and this is my true story…”