Sunday is my reflection day. I think about things that have happened and how I reacted, what I could have done differently and if I was living my purpose. This Sunday I want to start from the beginning so you all understand the journey I’m forging through. Life has a way of happening, maybe not the way we so choose but it just happens. Life happened to me when I was 11. I was young and we lived in a small town – the kids ran free in the darkness of the night without a care in the world. My free spirit was at a small town street dance with person’s way beyond my years but oddly enough that didn’t bother them. There he was; the boy from school, the boy with the curly hair and the deep, dark eyes. He was 18, drove a car and was having a G-O-O-D time. You’ve all been there, you had that one person that you had a crush on that was way too old and didn’t even know you existed – you know who I’m talking about right? It turned out this boy did know I existed and came over to talk to me, I had such a crush on him that I’m sure all I did was nod my head and blush. He asked if I wanted to go for a walk – ‘who me? The 11-year-old school girl who shouldn’t even be here – why not?’. We walked to his car and climbed in – it was at this point that I knew I shouldn’t be there. That boy – the one with the curly hair and the deep, dark eyes also had a deep, dark soul. Life happened that night – I got raped. My innocence in the back of a car on a cool, misty summer night. Yes I was 11 when I was no longer an innocent little girl. I don’t remember much beyond that point other than packing that baggage up in a nice pretty box, with a nice bow on top and tucking it away on the shelf in that baggage closet we all have.
It’s taken me a long time to acknowledge that night, I was sure it was all where it needed to be in my head. How could it not be – I moved on through life. Finished school, went to college, got a good job, got married, had kids….got engaged 3 times, was the ‘other’ woman for a number of years (while I was single), am now separated and struggle daily allowing new people into my life. It was all dealt with – right? I deal with it everyday as I’m now more aware of how it has affected my life to this point. I have not felt deserving or worthy of what life has offered me but I am deserving and worthy as are all of you.
I seek to find the value in what happened that night, some days it’s hard to find, some days like today I’m finding a new value as I write this. I am a better mom to my kids because of the misty, summer night. I have 2 girls, I will protect them to my last breath from going through what I went through. I will be able to be more in tune to situations that don’t seem right. I will not let this happen to them. Maybe that was the lesson in that night – I was strong enough to deal with this as part of my life story but quite possibly maybe my girls aren’t; so the lesson was taught to protect them.
Tanya, you have a powerful writer’s voice — and a powerful story.
You are so correct. It is what we do with the story that makes the difference. Not the what happened, what he did, they did, or even what we did. It’s what we do now, now that the story is yearning to be heard, crying out for breath. That’s what makes the difference.
There is a mystical aura to how you tell the story. A dreamy sensation as I read it.
Having written a blog almost every day for 8 years, I can tell you that it only gets better, and easier. My voice gets clearer, my sense of story stronger.