Survived

A Daughter’s Journey 

Part 2.5

To me I could never call him my dad’s best friend. He would be forever known as my molester. 

Shocking my last blog? For some it’s probably devastating. For those I confided in back then, there are no words for their safety. Some of those folks are in heaven now. 

So the bigger question is, how did I finally overcome one of many traumatic moments? Finally finding the courage to tell my parents when I was 25. 

The ironic thing about burying a pain for so long as most of us survivors do, is that it will eventually come out in an explosive way.  

Triggers is an important word. Depending on what trauma changed you it matters. For me it was learning who I felt safe around to let my guard down. A reality, just because their family friends doesn’t mean they can be trusted.

I remember being around the age of nine sitting on the porch steps of my auntie’s house in the hood after church and a family friend said to me, “Girl don’t you know you gotta close your legs around here? Because I’m looking”. Creepy. Totally disgusting. That same sick feeling in my gut was there. 

Never doubt your intuition. 

Being a child all I knew is that's not something any child should be hearing from someone I was supposed to feel safe around. I recall telling my mom this story years and years later as an adult and she just dismissed it, laughing it off because she knew that was “just how he was”. Not the response you would hope for from your mother. 

Where is the accountability for grown men who predatorize children?

Remember when I mentioned a child’s intuition? It’s never wrong. No matter when a person speaks of their trauma that has caused emotional manipulative abuse, believe them. 

Triggers are important to recognize. When I finally found the courage to speak my truth to my parents I was 25. From what I can recall I was having a conversation with them in my parents room and my dad brushed his fingers on the right side of my neck, and I Freaked Out! I pushed back his fingers in anger and screamed “Don’t touch me!” now if you knew my dad and his bursts of rage, not the best way to come out speaking on such a sensitive topic. He yelled back “What the f#$k is wrong with you??” and I yelled “Go ask your best friend, he made me this way!” 

It was pretty silent after that. I don’t know if that conversation ever took place. I don’t need to know because one thing I’ve realized after all this time, is there is no explanation a grown man can ever give that justified his behavior towards a child, nevertheless his best friend’s only daughter. 

My mom just looked me dead in my face and said “You better get over that if you ever want a man to love you”. 

Again, the comfort you would expect from your own mother, wasn’t found. This awakening moment should’ve been it. 

I’ve heard my whole life that I'm a survivor. All the things I’ve gone through have made me who I am. 

I am not my trauma. I am God’s child. God has always defined my life even when I didn’t know it. 

Our testimonies are never for ourselves. Recognize your triggers. Block, delete, change the conversation if hearing that person’s name gives you that same sick feeling in your stomach. 

One thing I’ve learned is that some things you experience in life, a conversation, or apology, will never justify the pain from the other person. 

That’s when you find your own forgiveness. Of course my pen, the stage bought me that much needed deliverance in 2015 at a poetry Slam in Boston,MA.

I’ve only performed this poem three times. This moment captured was left with an eerie silence that you could hear a pin drop. 

The tears I’ve seen and deep hugs I felt of teen black girls in classrooms when I performed this poem also brought healing to both of us. 

I no longer perform that poem because healing and deliverance has finally been put to rest. 

Healing is ugly work. It’s isolating. It’s something you really can’t post about. What you won’t see is all the times I’ve yelled, cried, and screamed in my car as to why this traumatic thing happened to me. 

God was there through it all. Even the conversations I’ve had with folks is healing, but at some point you  do let it go. 

Ironically, when I found myself in a relationship after experiencing one of the most devastating losses of my life, it was only then I’ve found completion of healing and embracing intimacy. 

Context always matters. 

Healing Soulmate and I. Summer 2017.

I also sought out countless therapy sessions that helped with my closure. 

Find what you need to release the triggers. You’ll find you’re not alone because the reality is you know someone, that knows someone, that can relate to this. 

As uncomfortable as this topic is, it’s something that can’t be avoided. 

Being strong takes a massive amount of vulnerability and transparency. 

But through it all once the werk is done you can hug your inner child tightly. Comfort her because finally you found your voice to no longer remain silent.