I was a victim of abuse.
I have wanted to write this post for some time, but every time I sit down to write it, or I even get some of it written before I end up deleting it, but I never publish it. So, I am hoping that today is the day, that I say it – I was a victim of abuse.
So what changed?
But, I didn’t do it without help.
Healing The Scars
Scars are like a patchwork.
Each abuse stitched together to make the whole, complete.
Spreading down, around and outwards from the middle of the soul.
But, first the soul is cankered by the unspeakable, the often unnameable.
Ferocious words hardly spoken, small lies that bloom into huge mountains of mistrust and hate.
Broken hearts that have to keep beating, even when each beat is so painful, it pierces the very body, mind and spirit until they are all destroyed.
Then through the darkness comes the morning’s light.
To begin with it, it is too bright, too bright to acknowledge to look at, to accept.
But, time is a great healer, they say and somewhere is the brokenness it is, somehow, but only if we let it in, accept it.
Acceptance is the hard one, especially when others are trying to make you hide your pain, yes, your pain, not their pain.
But, my pain brought me to this moment, this place, this time, it is me!
Now I am an open book.
My heart is open and I am trying to keep it that way, but it is hard.
It is hard to trust you, whoever you are.
It is hard to be myself around you, in case you don’t like me and i have to go and hide again.
But, I ask that you do not lie to me.
Do no bruise my heart with broken words of nothingness.
Do not feed me your lies. Speak words of truth and watch me bloom.
God made me a rose.
Each petal gentle furled, awaiting the moment when the feel the warmth of the sun and the gentleness of the summer breeze to become whole, complete and loved.
And I will bloom!