(This poem is reflects my fears about sharing about my history of sex abuse and trafficking.) If you knew me Would you point your finger at me Turn your back against me Tighten your lips Into an angry line If you heard my story Would your thoughts turn Like sudden storm clouds If you [...]
Category: childhood sexual abuse
Why I Hate Sex Positive Feminism
I had to get this off my chest.
Body- A Poem
Somehow, I find myself fading Away from my Body Disconnection becomes self- preservation
My Rawest Confession, and a Plea
This song really hits my heart. I am 31 years old, and my life is far removed from what it once was, yet I will never forget what it was like. I have found peace, and love, and life. The fountain of Messiah Yahushua/Jesus Christ who satisfies. Do you know what it means to be [...]
Looking Forward, Looking Back
This spring weather has been unpredictable. Unseasonably warm sunshine bleeds into dark curling storm clouds, threatening tornados. Some evenings I walk outside and breathe in the smell of the wet earth, growing again after the floods. Then, I take the children for walks during the day and we save half-dried worms off the warming concrete sidewalks. I’m not sure why, but I could never leave them there to wither.
How Trauma & Remembering is Impacting Me
This is a hard blog post to make. Honestly, writing at all has been a challenge lately. There is so much sitting in my head that I want to work out with paper and pen; and so much on my ever expanding (neglected) to-do list. I am realizing that it's all connected to my trauma, [...]
The Saving Grace of Motherhood
They don’t even know it, but they redeemed me. They lead me to the water of forgiveness. I was born, when they were born.
37 weeks Unassisted Pregnancy
Well, here I am at (almost) 37 weeks pregnant. This is my second unassisted pregnancy but I transferred to the hospital with my first unassisted birth attempt (due to my own unfounded fears, we were fine!). A UP is when a woman receives no professional care during her pregnancy, with a OB or a midwife. [...]
Trauma and Memory Recall
Memory is a strange thing for the traumatized mind. Some memories are nothing more than apparitions of smell, emotion, and touch; try as I might to put flesh on these ghosts, they remain as formless as mist rising in the morning. Other memories are clear on the big picture yet lack details. I remember his [...]
Trigger, Trigger. (PTSD)
Where does this despair hide itself from the rest of me when life is going smoothly? Does it seep into the corners of my mouth when I smile? Does it retreat into the shadows of my insides? How can it escape notice from the very person it inhabits? Until—a nightmare during sleep opens me up [...]
