More Words and a Happy End

Well, the issue of abuse now enters the picture. There is an increasing number of reports of abuse of all kinds, by the media. Awareness of its commonality, is now more than ever. It seems almost inevitable, that I would write about it…

As a young girl desperate for the right kind of attention, my innocent unwise eyes headed in the wrong direction and for the wrong kind of attention.
I realise now, that to be complete, whole, healthy, I needed the affirmation that would lead me to be emotionally and mentally sound. However as is the case with abuse, whatever the means, it leads you on a path of inner destruction.
I could say, I wish that I was never left alone, with the man who molested me. I could say ‘if only’, that other family member had acted upon what she thought to be true and intervened in the quick secret acts of indecent touching, that I was subjected to.¬†
I could ponder that she did not intervene because, was herself intrigued by inappropriate behaviour. Although these questions and ponderings would help me, to better understand not only the people involved but what went on, it cannot change what happened.
With secrets and wrongdoing, it is done at the time without the foresight and care, of the implications, the consequences. Consequences that can destroy lives in ways never even considered. My case wasn’t extreme, though the brokenness was something I could not handle mentally, on my own.

I have presented to you some facts of these incidents, but to protect myself and certain family members I do not want to divulge revelatory details of who these people are.

Years later at a get together, the person who molested me was present.
As far as the abuse was concerned only he (and perhaps one other family member) and myself, knew about it.
It was so long ago and I, not wanting to tell anyone, things went on as though it didn’t happen. In some ways I can live with this now because I know my justice would never come from this person.
At this get together however I was not very comfortable with him being there. Not, for the reasons you may think, but because I was fearful of what he thought of me. For some reason I was particularly sensitive that evening with regards to struggling with my looks and self esteem. I was very much on edge and feared that this man would make a comment about me. He would often say awful things and I feared his venom would be directed towards me. He was not a very pleasant person…

I was walking in and out of the main centre of activity and into the kitchen. On one occasion, I got up and his eyes were following me, that was repulsive in itself.
As I was about to enter the nearby kitchen, I overheard him speak to a close relative of his. He said “She looks like a monkey.” And laughed.

Can you imagine what it felt like to have someone who molested me, treated me like filth now strike again at the core of all that I feared? To ridicule everything that I was trying to protect; my self worth…
Those words hurt. It was if someone was trying to destroy me. Breaking me down by using my weakness against me.

Well, he was a very disturbed person and thankfully I did recover from his words. I recovered because I took a step back from the hurt and realised how broken he himself was. The words ‘broken’ were probably not the words used in my mind at the time however!

So…words. Words of an enemy. Words of a relative. Words that harm and words that hate. All the words spoken to me to harm me, would never destroy me.
The words spoken at school against me, the words spoken by people around me. They could not destroy, because they are not the truth. I do not believe them. Words against us can hurt only because we believe they are true, whether we believe them for a moment or for a lifetime it’s the belief in the words that keeps the wounds open.

I was able to heal from the harshest of words, spoken against me as a child.
There were evil words. The worst of which I can’t bring myself to write because they are sickening.
I look back now and all I see is how messed up people were. But it all comes from brokenness and in the end what happens to those people, those moments? Justice is done somehow.

My happy end is this; all the years I spent dreaming as a little girl, hoping to be wanted, desired, to be beautiful, have come true.
My happy ever after, is living life in all its richness with a family of my own. Facing new challenges, ascending new heights, all experienced through the knowledge that I am loved.
And, shining brightly in all this, is the reality of my immense value not only to those around me and to God Who helped me, but to myself.
And to the little girl I once was.

Charlie x

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