The Darkness

I think one of the hardest things to deal with from being abused is the feeling that you're never quite good enough. When you are young and another person treats you like you are worth nothing, and your power is stripped from you, it's very hard to take that power back and get those feelings of worth reinstated.

I have two clear memories of sexual abuse. One of these has been with me since my late teens and has never shifted; there's not much of it but enough for me to still feel a pang of ick when I recall it. The son of family friends was playing Hide'n'Seek with us. We hid in one of the bedroom's wardrobes. It was dark. And, you know, stuff happens.

Yep. Stuff happens. I'm at peace with it but am struggling to write what that stuff is. There is that fear present. Not of him but of judgement from others, of someone saying, that's not abuse and you're making something out of nothing.

Maybe I am. Maybe I did. I don't think so.

Because it impacted me. In the context of my childhood and my life, it changed me. I was never the same afterwards. I was very young, and the touching down there violated a part of me. I couldn't tell anyone. I lost my voice. I had never really felt safe before and I definitely didn't feel safe after.

I always felt that there was more. There was a way that one of the adult family friends always made me feel when he looked at me: vulnerable, uncomfortable, undressed. A horrible feeling when it isn't coming from someone you love or choose to be intimate with. Last year, during a healing session (I blogged about this at the time), I had a video reel of the sexual abuse playing through my head. That included penetration and all over grossness. Again, I was very young.

By the time this one was fully revealed to me I had completed so much personal work on my own healing, reclaiming my voice and standing in my truth that it barely impacted me emotionally. If anything, for me, it validated how I had felt all of those years.

Neither of these situations was one-off. And I don't think they were the only ones. But, I'm not sure. And I don't think it really matters. The impact was made. I needed to heal that. I'm happy with the knowledge that I do have. I don't need or want more.

We are all very different. What one person can handle, another might find completely devastating. I think that's okay. We all have our own path to walk. And, in our own time.

When I was at uni, away from home and my family, my indicator behaviours became more pronounced. I became obsessive compulsive with cleaning. I was cleaning the house from top to bottom every morning, manically. I stopped answering the phone; okay on its own, but as I listened to it ring out, and landlines ring forever, I was gripped by absolute terror. I became reclusive and shied away from any physical human contact. I started eating really badly and quite gluttenously (hello future weight problem) attempting to shield and nurture myself all at the same time. And, I started arguing unreasonably and without any flexibility in my tutes at uni; I needed everyone to hear me. Flashbacks were coming at random times.

I was sliding between mania and depression. I wanted to hide and be seen, I wanted control and wanted to be looked after. Contradictory behaviours that were driving the sanity bus straight to insanity.

I had majored in Psychology and knew enough to research the behaviours indicators of sexual abuse. I listed them. Made an appointment with a local sexual abuse specialist counselor. Turned up, with my list, and matter of factly announced that I was sure I had been sexually abused, could she please look at my list and validate that for me.

She was amazing. She smiled, read my list, passed it back, and started a dialogue neither validating or denouncing my claims. With her support, I started unpacking my behaviours and my memories and owning them all. She empowered me to see that I had choices, and reminded me that healing was a process, and a long, arduous one.

And, then she went on maternity leave and my professional support stopped for a time.

It was only through owning my perceptions of my childhood sexual abuse that I was able to move forward, very slowly. I started to speak my truth. The hardest thing was telling my mum. She validated my claims, but that opened a whole other can of worms for me. More on that later.

There were many dark times during the next, close to ten years, I'd say. My twenties became marked by trying to work myself out and get better. I couldn't see me reaching my thirtieth birthday; I was sure I would be dead by then.

I drank a lot in my mid to late twenties, started casually using some low level drugs sometimes, and wanted to walk into the ocean and not come out more times than I can count.

More on all of this later.

But, I survived. I still didn't think I was worth very much, I didn't like myself very much, I was doing more and more for others at my own expense, I was bitterly unhappy, fleeing from situations that challenged me in all of my relationships, working hard to not commit to any people, and succeeding, but I survived.

Sigh. What a journey through darkness.

Sexual abuse: the gift that keeps giving.

Rubbing Against Old Patterns

I am writing a book/book proposal; working hard to manifest last new moon's intentions. I have always wanted to be a writer. And, I am.

I am grateful for this platform in this technological and connected age. But, I want more. I want books in print, partly for ego, if I'm being honest, but mostly because I have something to share. I completed a Masters degree in Writing to support the manifestation of this dream. I started this blog to support the manifestation of this dream. I went to the Writer's Workshop to manifest this dream.

And this week, I found myself rubbing up against the same old conditioning that has plagued my life: fear.

That I'm not good enough.
That I'm not unique enough.
That I have nothing new to say.
That no one is really interested.
That I'm not good enough.
That I'm not good enough.
That I'm not good enough.

Fleeting thoughts, not deep enough to upset me. And, real enough to paralyze the free flow of my writing.

I combat these thoughts, this fear, and keep doing it anyway. This is what is different now. I push through in spite of the fear. I haven't given up. I continue to torture the words, forcing them into uncomfortable positions, making them do my will.

And then Saturday morning comes, I watch some inspirational videos, and I remember to trust myself, and I remember to trust the universe (or God), and I remember that every path I take leads me closer to my enlightenment.

And I hear the higher voice reminding me to be authentic, telling me not to do what other books have done, do what you do best Tina, and I recall a message I received last week from my long term friend and sister, Crystal, and she was already reminding me of what I needed to do. It took me a couple of days, that's all, for my mind to catch up and trust.

That pesky voice who lives in fear, man, it comes at the worst times, and it inhibits growth and movement, and I forgot to acknowledge it and tell it that I hear it, but it has no power here anymore, because it found a different way to get in. It didn't come in and stop me from starting, it waited until I was in the writing groove and then it struck, mercilessly. It camouflaged itself, and it has taken a couple of days for me to see it for what it is.

But I see you now, fear, little f, and I am telling you again, you don't live here anymore.

And so mote it be. Vanquished.

Time to write.

Vulnerability

I plugged my USB into my laptop four and a half minutes ago. Brene Brown's Vulnerability TED Talk came on, and I'm now fighting the urge to fight back tears. Let them flow, Tina, let them flow.

Weird response, you might think. And, yes, I would usually agree. The tears pricked as Brene said that whilst she wanted to get her work out to the world, a part of her has worked hard to engineer staying small.

My tears pricked because I noticed how much I have grown. This resonated with me this time last year; that fear of abundance, of an audience, of people bearing witness to my life, in its totality. This means, the bad shameful stuff as well as the weird and the good.

We are, all of us, a whole package.

People have told me (and god love all of you who have because you have empowered me even further) that they respect the courage I show to post my life on the internet. It has taken me a long time to see this courage they speak of, but they are right. For me, I've always replied that whilst I know there is an audience reading, I don't really know there is an audience reading.

When I write, I write mostly for myself: what is it that I need to most hear to empower me to heal, to process, to grow. Sometimes I write for a particular person, to validate their experience or response, sometimes I write to expose or to teach, but mostly it is for myself. As Beyoncé sings, I was here; a record that I existed and that I live.

Back to being small, this was me. I wanted my 'wisdom' out there, I wanted to be seen, I wanted to be noticed, but not really. Because what if people don't get it, or don't like me, or think I'm weird, or think I'm a fool.

Yep. What if.

Who cares.

My truth is my truth. And my truth can change, and can grow, and that is okay.

I don't necessarily want to be big. But, I do want to be. And, just being now, is enough. I trust that I will put things out there and the consequences will be what they will be. My foundation is strong and won't be shaken.

I think I feel a little nervous about my book on my healing journey through sexual abuse (as part of a traumatic childhood). Maybe a little vulnerability and a little shame lingering, and I think that's okay. We all go through stuff as children that impacts who we become, positive and negative, and it's okay. The first step in healing is acknowledging this. As Dr Phil says, You can't fix what you don't acknowledge.

So, acknowledgement comes first. We each need to hold our head up high and speak our truth. Acknowledge what happened, acknowledge the impact, acknowledge the desire to change, to grow, to bloom.

None of us deserve to feel small. Our experiences and who we are, are significant. And valid. We don't need to justify or validate them for others, our knowing is enough.

And, our desire to be big does not serve us in the telling of our truth, because if we desire to be big we stop being authentic, and we start to behave to please others rather than to serve our own higher interests. And this is disingenuous.

We can only heal when we acknowledge what has been 'done' to us (marked this way because I believe we choose) and acknowledge the impact it has made, good and bad. And, truly own ourselves in every sense. And, when we reach that point, it no longer matters whether we are big, or have an audience, or are noticed, because we come to knowing that we are enough, just as we are.

This did not end or go where I expected it might. I hope you get something from it; I'm almost ready to write.

🙏🏻🦋

A Focus on the Dark

Write the book you wanted to read when you were younger.

Thank you, Higher Self.

I had the title for this post but then became stuck. Where to from here? Not dissimilar to when I start first writing a novel or this new book. I have massive inspiration, can't wait to get started, and when I do, I start tripping over myself.

It is temporary. It is vital. And, it is very annoying.

My question was going to be, what would you want to read? My Higher Self responded as above.

The first couple of chapters will outline my personal experience with abuse, both sexual and physical. Later on in the book, I focus on the emotional and psychological impact of this.

Fractured memories is how I have titled it. I remember snapshots and sound bytes. Nothing else really. This frustrated me for a long time. People need proof and they need to know what happened for you to be credible, for it to be validated. Sometimes this isn't possible for a variety of reasons (after all, even if you do remember it in excruciating detail, you may not be able to voice it).

The impact is a self-doubt and a feeling that you are creating something bigger than it needs to be. Not entirely true. This doubt starts to manipulate your confidence in other areas, detracting from your sense of self and belief in self. Questions sometimes erode trust.

How do we move past this?

Expression. Stand in your truth. Even if you can't articulate it to others just yet, say it to yourself. Own what you do remember. Trust those feelings. Work through them.

Another person's perception of your story is just that, perception. They aren't living it. And if your perception is a little blown out, working through it will bring peace to that need too. If we are feeling something, it is coming from somewhere that needs to be addressed for health. Trust it. Work through it. Heal it.

You will be okay.

The Importance of Voice in Healing Trauma

We all experience some type of trauma during our lifetimes; it is inevitable. The type of trauma can range from childhood trauma (accident, disability, abuse, you get the gist) to losing a child or parent or grandparent or friend or partner, or rape, unemployment, anxiety, the list is endless.

We are all different and we all come from different places; however, I believe that if we are to heal from this trauma, get to a point where we can think about it without anxiety, stress or pain, we need to give it a voice.

For me, the voice first came through when dealing with referrals at school, kids disclosing to me about their own abuse and/or trauma. I would then journal, always trying to get it out of my head so that it couldn't fester. My voice, unbeknownst to me at the time, has also shown itself through tattooing. My tattoos are all markers of moments, experiences and memories. Intermittently, I have journaled and spoken my truth during my life. In mid 2014, I started blogging, expressing my voice through written word to a larger audience.

As a result, I can speak about the truth of my experiences safely. Rarely does talking about, even my IVF journey, bring me residual pain that still needs to be resolved. Finding my voice and sharing my experiences has lessened the impact of the trauma.

It is through sharing (which requires a voice) that I have processed the events, re-lived them enough that they no longer hurt, and ultimately, become grateful for them because I am a better person as a result of them.

I would not be as empathetic, as compassionate, as sensitive, as loving, as resilient, or as inspiring without each of the traumas that I have survived and flourished from.

Finding and reclaiming my voice has been a long journey, starting from when it was first silenced when I was very young. Unfortunately, there are no quick fixes to healing trauma. For me though, finding and using my voice has been integral.

My voice is not your voice. But there will be a voice that suits/fits you. It might come through painting, or fitness, or drawing, or dancing, or running groups, or volunteer work, or traveling, or it could be like mine, through writing. I implore you, if you have suffered and endure trauma, give it a voice.

Share the experience. You never know whom you may help.

You can explore this journey with me further on my Facebook page Tina K Meyer.

Quantum Hypnosis Healing Session Part 4

Connection to source: I received an image of Mother Mary in a Rivendell-type setting. A utopia; people just being in peace. My stomach started to vibrate through it's bloating as I said Mary appeared to remind me to trust.

It is important to note, I have never been a Christian and Mother Mary holds little significance for me personally.

I expressed that I had a fear of living, that people aren't threatened by someone who carries weight. My Higher Self came in at this point to talk to Gabrielle. HS said that Tina has now realised the importance of trust. And now needs to let go of the old life, old connections, to fully move onto the new (original) path.

My voice begins to radiate real strength and control at this point, wholly present, unlike the voice when I was speaking as myself, which sounded a bit drowsy/dopey.

The key is to empower others to heal so that I can continue to heal. I need to write and to stand in the light. Time in nature is necessary – feet on the ground, touching the earth, connected to the earth, every day feet in the grass.

I wish you could hear the voice of my HS: massive biatch, "She thinks driving from Campbelltown to Thirlmere is being in nature, but it's not, because she is not putting her feet on the ground … and she knows this. She doesn't make the time. She keeps saying yes to work she doesn't want."

The tone. Man, it's cutting. And hilarious, like receiving a scolding from a friend's parent.

They then discuss my choice to incarnate. I was supposed to stop incarnating a long time ago. HS then snaps, "She was told ten years ago that a book and healing were her path, and she went straight back to teaching. She knows. She needs to stay this path."

"She needs to trust that we will provide for her. As soon as she trusts this, abundance will come."

I need to take the steps to leave teaching and move wholly onto my next path. It's so funny. Anyone who really knows me, would be laughing at my voice scolding me so vehemently.

I heal through writing and I trigger the desire for others to heal through my writing. I need to realise and accept this.

Gabrielle then questioned why I had been shown the scenes that I had been shown. My five year old self was shown to remind me that even whilst I was scared and alone, my inner core felt safe and grounded. My HS then dobbed on me to Gabrielle, and let her know that before I moved into the next scene, I had placed my hands on my mother and father's foreheads to emanate light from their crowns into their being to allow them to heal faster.

This part has struck emotion deep in my soul; almost the desire to cry. An old soul in a young body emanating love.

My HS then lectures on the heart of the human being, the nerve centre as the stomach; nourishment, expulsion, health. I have a limitation by failing to protect myself when I am there for others. I give my whole self and so take on board the welfare of others deeply. My HS then mentions that they have sent someone to remind me to protect but I'm a slow learner. I also need to use moonstone and jasper to aid in this (I bought both on the way out of Krystal Kamali).

I also need to bless my food consistently and eat mostly a plant based diet to purify my physical body. I need to write affirmations as reminders, and put them up as a way of reclaiming my 'abnormality'. I need to create a list for each aspect of my new ritual; I need to create a structure to support the work I came here to do. I need to master these before I receive the next steps.

My HS then said that I wouldn't be surprised by any of this because I already knew all of it. This is true. Everything I was shown through my session was to remind me of what I already know to be my truth.

We have individual contracts for each lifetime, but we also have universal contracts. I'm not ready to activate my galactic guide but will be within six months (I'm seeing Uluru). My other guides are my guides for this lifetime; I have met the whole group. I need to nurture the child within, my spirit child, "She is birthing in other ways … her mothering experience has reached many many many other children."

We are not just one lifetime. We move from one lifetime to the next, one planet to the next, one universe to the next. Our physical body is just the body we chose for this incarnation.

We then moved to the grid work and my dreams. I live my Higher Self life during sleep. All I need to do is ask for a night off and I'll receive it; I need to voice and ask for what I want – that is one of my lessons for this lifetime. I need to be conscious that I'm working in many realms at once.

My work is to reprogram the individual to enable the reprogramming of the larger grid. The individual programming I have engaged in throughout the entirety of this incarnation: with my sisters, with the bullies as I grew up, in my role as a teacher in a system. Once the connection to that life is broken, abundance will come.

My HS kept reiterating that one of my lessons is to ask for what I need, to express that. Yep. I hear it. I understand. Meh. Also, my weight is the result of a life that I refused to leave even though I knew I should leave it so I punished myself. It's now time to let it all go. To accept that I'm not normal and my path will be everything but. "As she returns to balance, her weight will return to balance."

I think it's important to state that my weight was an issue I wanted clarification about which is why it featured through this session. Also, my best self is not served in teaching and my diabetes is a reminder that I've reached my use-by date in teaching, and my high blood pressure a result of staying in high stress situations, reminiscent of childhood.

My HS then told Gabrielle to let me know that Tara was with us during the session. Answering the call is the key and once one call is answered successfully, it becomes easier to answer every call. As that happens, growth happens faster. Transformation becomes inevitable. "Life does not need to be convoluted to achieve our aims."

We then scanned my body for density, injury, held trauma, and my HS massaged those areas and sent light into them.

I'd like to say that my body has been expelling everything since Thursday's session. I've been sick as everything comes out. I'm okay with that, "the expulsion of everyone else's garbage to create space for her own."

👽🦋👽

So, there you have it. A recount of the hour and forty three minute session I had on Thursday. I giggled a lot as I listened to it. I feel it is my truth. As I've said before, it doesn't have to be your truth. However, if you've had a similar experience, I'd love to hear about it.

I have googled, the nerd that I am, some of the visual references I received. They have all been validated by images from this dimension.

This is an interesting time. We are in a year marked by new beginnings and massive transformation. All I ask, if you are called to do something that will not cause injury or harm to others, answer the call; it will transform your life.

Quantum Hypnosis Healing Session

Man. My body is just so incredibly heavy. I saw my first client this afternoon, but just couldn't make it to the next one. I drove home with googly eyes, not wanting to focus on this reality, desiring to go inwards, to hide and to process and to feel. My throat and head was speedily filling with flu like symptoms, and a hot shower followed by winter pyjamas was calling my name.

I'm now on the lounge. The heaviness is still all through my body, forcing me to be quiet. But the heat of the water on my body has moved something.

Today was an amazing experience. I remember some of it. As part of the process, I need to listen to the recording at some point within the next three days. I will take notes.

I feel very validated. My experiences as a child were validated and residual anger released. And not just my family dysfunction. When I was young I had powerful, and often prophetic, dreams.

One in particular stands out. There was a massive train derailment. People in white were there salvaging what they could, supporting those still alive, there was devastation everywhere. The following morning I told my mum because it had been so lifelike. Later that day, the news revealed a massive train derailment in France and I watched, on the screen, what I had been part of the night before, in my sleep state.

Another that has stayed with me, not so much prophetic, possibly a reminder of my soul purpose after today's session, involved a massive war, armies marching against each other, and a young girl standing between them, coaxing the soldiers to turn inwards to see and feel their own hearts, accepting that war was not what they wanted. She was successful. I believed I was that girl, and that I possessed infinite power to bring healing to the planet.

In fact, when I first started teaching, I was interviewed by the local newspaper, alongside other teachers, and I expressed that my goal, my purpose, was to change the world. I stand with that now.

There is more than one way to achieve this.

Neither of these memories came forward in the session, but they have stayed with me since their arrival earlier this afternoon.

My session opened with my five year old self, wearing blue pants and a red skivvy jumper (it was the seventies). My practitioner, Gabrielle, asked questions so that I could convey what I was seeing. I was in the city. Terraced houses lined the streets. There was a bench. I was sitting on it. It was like a little community park amongst suburban urban.

I felt centred and grounded, but I was lost. I can still see myself so vividly. My dad came up to me, body-less. I could see the anger in his face, in the line of his jaw, a parent's fear. He was shaking me. My mum was standing behind him and to the side. Neither of them was their age now.

I retreated within myself. Outwardly I was calm, untouched, unmoved. Inwardly I was tense, and sobbing, and screaming. My fists were balled and rigid by my sides. I was there and not there, all at once. Gabrielle asked where my body was feeling the emotion. I replied, "In my stomach."

It was glowing red, hot, with bands of burning embers around the integral mass. She asked what I felt I needed to do to release this anger. I said I wanted to scream. She told me that if I felt safe, I should.

I did. A deep primal roar escaped my body, burning my throat on its way out, and tears came with it.

From there I moved to Bolivia. A man outside his white clay home. A toddler crawling in the dirt as his wife exited the door, carrying a basket with sticks. They were not sad, but not happy. There was something there.

We went backwards. She was lying in a blood drenched bed. She was screaming. Primal. Her baby had died. She could not have more children; her body had been ripped apart by this violent death birth.

The toddler was spirit. The toddler was staying with them. Her husband was outside, small, broken, grateful that she was alive, ashamed he could not protect her.

We returned to their present. As she came out with her basket of sticks, he moved towards her, their foreheads touching, eyes closed, and the connection drew pink energy from them, connecting them, and he held her. It was calm. Gentle. Pure love.

I think from there I left Earth. I became my alien self. Brown and green mottled reptilian skin. Thin legs and arms, big belly, his healing center, and typical alien shaped head with big eyes, surveying Saturn.

The next that I remember, and I feel there is a lot I just missed, was me surveying the universe and it's grid. Spears of energy were being focused in key aspects on Earth causing a bridge between galaxies. We were pure energy.

This is my future work. This is my purpose.

There is a lot more. For today though, this is enough.

No, I'm not crazy. Yes, I do believe all of what you have just read. We would be utterly ignorant to think we are all that there is. This is my truth. It is okay if it isn't yours. I won't judge you. Please, do not judge me.

🙏🏻

Gratitude

In 2005, I became a mother of sorts to a young girl. Life isn't always what we expect; and life had been this way for this young girl. She innately knew that there was better out there and she wasn't going to settle for anything less.

She was very unhappy with her home on the Central Coast and moved to be with family near Sydney. She thought it would be better and it would enable her to build the life that she wanted. And it did, but not the way that she expected it to.

She was very sad most of the time. But she also possessed a drive for more. She continued to get up and get dressed every day (brushing her hair wasn't an every day or even every other day occurrence, but you can't have everything in life lol). She continued to come to school, and learn and build relationships that would serve her, and that she could serve.

Until one day she couldn't anymore live the way she had been living. She was fed up with the daily pain, the waiting, the not knowing how to fix it, the everything that wasn't serving her. And we ended up at the hospital together, waiting and waiting, and hysterically laughing at everything. Like we were crazy.

And we are.

She made the decision to be better, to get better, to create and be more wholly in her life. She was sent back to the Central Coast and she really started to fight for what she perceived was hers.

She didn't want to be there. And so she made sure her stay was temporary. She organized her own accommodation back in Sydney. And then, almost every day, she trekked a significant distance to the school she had made her home.

She started to smile again, she started to believe again, she started to breathe again. And we loved her.

She finished high school, graduated, and went to Uni. She graduated Uni, and her future husband and I were there to bear witness. She found work, she explored, she made some crazy decisions, always trusting her self. She worked hard to manifest the life that she knew she deserved and that she wanted.

She asked me to walk her down the aisle on her wedding day. There are no words to express this moment. The feeling of pride … momentus. When she decides to do something, she does it. Damn any obstacles that arise; she slays them.

I am incredibly proud of her and feel incredibly blessed to have her in my life, still. She is a strong, intelligent and driven woman. She is someone that I admire and respect. And she is my child; the universe truly conspired to give her to me, knowing it wasn't my path to birth my own.

And, I love her. And I am grateful to her for never giving up on me.

Happy Birthday beautiful girl! I love you!

❤️🙏🏻

Setting the Intention

Since I was a child, I wanted to be a writer. At first I didn't think I knew enough. Then it didn't pay anything. Then I took on teaching as a back up, which I'd also wanted to do since I was a child.

Last weekend I attended the Hay House Writers Workshop in Sydney.

Needless to say, I now want to be published. I realize I publish here relatively regularly. But as a book. That I wrote. And marketed. That bit is scary but I've decided it is do-able.

Originally, I wanted my first published book to be about this year. Then I realized that whilst this year has been amazing, the book I need to be writing now is my journey healing from a childhood of physical and sexual abuse. That is where my message lies: self-empowerment and happiness.

To that end, I have created a Facebook page for myself in the role of writer. It is my professional page. Each Sunday I will post a video – yikes – relating to the issue, my book, the process. Whatever is appropriate for that week.

If you like reading my blog, especially the childhood trauma and healing stuff, and you want to be updated each week and contribute to my process, please give me a like or share via Facebook or Instagram. My professional name is Tina K Meyer on both.

I will be grateful.

🦋🙏🏻

Forgiveness

I need to forgive someone from my childhood, a male, that I knew before I was fourteen. I’m just not sure who. If it is someone I have already forgiven, then I need to manifest the forgiveness in the physical world and not just in my mind. So, this is it. 

I am grateful for every experience in my life, good and bad, because they have lead me here. I am grateful to every person that has been a part of each experience, because they have brought me here. 

I believe that I chose my life’s lessons prior to my birth. I believe that we all do. We are here to learn and to grow towards enlightenment and lightness of being. We are here to transcend the physical planes of existence. To do that, we must experience and we must learn. 

My childhood was traumatic. As a result of the trauma, I have compartmentalised and boxed away a lot of memories. I saw a lot of violence. I heard a lot of violence. I received violence. Physical, emotional and sexual. I was easy prey; the oldest of three girls born in a time when men believed, still, that women were property and children were toys. 

I forgive those that perpetrated the violence. I forgive them because I understand that I chose those experiences. I wanted to learn what it was like to be a child victim, and I wanted to survive it and create a beautiful life for myself. I wanted to heal so that I could shine a light for others. 

I forgive the perpetrators because they were doing as I requested, so that I could learn and benefit. I forgive them because I also volunteered to be the victim for them to be able to learn their lessons. I pray that they have. 

And I forgive them because I am whole and I am happy. My life is open and my life is full. I am a successful businesswoman. I am a successful teacher. I am a successful writer. I am a successful healer. I am a successful friend, daughter, mother, aunt, sister, and every other label I choose to wear. I am a traveller, in this world and through many others. I read, I love, I learn, I do. 

So, to all of those that have wronged me, I say thank you. I forgive your unkindness, your brutality, you. Yes, I forgive you. 

And I acknowledge that I lost the ability to mother my own child, to have successful and healthy intimate relationships, to trust unconditionally, to not feel betrayal. But I also acknowledge, that in the light of day, I have gained more than I have lost. 

For I have been a mother many times already, I have married the love of my life in many lifetimes, I have trusted, I trust again, and I feel blessed, honoured and loved by the universal mother and father. This life continues to offer me riches and incredibly beautiful people to share my riches with. 

I forgive all who have ‘wronged’ me, and I say thank you to them for enabling and empowering the creation of this moment in time. Which is perfect. 

🙏🏻