Stepping Into Your Truth Is a Form of Letting Go

It’s been a while since I’ve checked in.

Of course with the full moon being in Pisces. I’m not really surprised by the part of my story I’m choosing to share with you tonight .

I’m going to write about something personal about my life, that only a few people know about me. It may be uncomfortable to read .Ive survived a lot of different traumas in my life. 

When i was 8 years old at a holiday party  at my parents house. I decided to wear this Marrichino Cherry Red dress  down to my knees with white stockings. The dress had so much glitter on it that any  form of light glistened the tiny specs on my dress. I had a one length collar bone haircut with a heavy fringe.

Theres a living room in my parents house its on the main floor. 

when you enter  the room to your left was a couch, to the right is  a wooden  futon bed.The carpet was a dark teal color  with a birds of paradise plant pattern, the chimney centered the wall  opposing the entrance way of the room. The room smelled like cold winter air coming from the chimney.

The party was buzzing in other places of the house, I remember being tired and deciding to go lay down in that room on the futon. the lights were off and the only light coming into the doorless living room was from the kitchen.

I remember laying on my left side under a comforter it was mossy green and brown color with random tone of plum. I remember being woken up by a man rubbing my back and touching my hair. I rolled over on to my back surprised to not recognize  the person next to me. He was still stroking my hair and shoulders and  all the sudden he was now shushing me and telling me  to not be afraid and told me if i didn’t stay quiet he would tell my parents. Before you know it his hands were wandering around my body under my dress and thoroughly inside my body in places that only  stocking seams cling the tightest to. My heart racing out of uncomfortable  pain from this man touching me in places that no one has.

I don’t recall having thoughts about what was happening in that moment except for not wanting to anger my parents by screaming For help.Thats the last thing  I remember before  everything  fading  to black.

 i was only 8 years old 

I carried that event around for ten years before i ever felt brave enough to tell some people  in my family . words carry weight and when you say them you can’t retract them.  

In an attempt to reclaim my power . To silence the shame I carried for years I addressed the spouse of the man . To prepare her , to let her know my side of the story.she was shook to her core and swore up and down to stand by me and face him. Needless to say that went right out the window when she addressed him about it . He Of course denied it. He quickly blamed it on someone else at the party . 

It shaped the way I viewed myself in all relationships .The way I trust anyone in  general.

Even after 20 years I still think about it ,out of the many other events that have occurred over this lifetime I know not ALL of them are my fault . I know it made me numb , I know it made me rage but as time has  moved  it has also made me compassionate .It has allowed me to create vulnerability and understanding in my life. 

Taking time to acknowledge all that has happened to me is a form of me stepping into my own truth. & that is a form of letting go to actual heal for me.

People often misplace my silence , my nurturing trait as weakness. It’s not. 

I still stand strong and speak out when I feel it’s necessary . My words hold weight when I choose to be heard. 

To some of my family that will probably read this I’m sorry you are  having to find out this way. 

To those who  carry shame or guilt of trauma that happened to you . 

I see you.

 I feel you deeply, you are not alone .