“I’m here,” said the Moon to the Earth below.
The clouds and rain merely dull my glow.
But no one can extinguish the light in my soul…
I have an iron-strong spirit that shines like gold.
I don’t give in to the overcast skies,
But rise above the force that tries
To keep me silent and afraid to be
An unapologetic, transparent me.”
You know who we are.
We are your neighbors. Your friends and your enemies. Your students and your teachers. Your bosses and your coworkers. Your soul mates and your lovers. Your spouses and your exes.
We work with you, go to school with you, commune with you and socialize with you. We share the same beliefs, and we disagree with you. We get along with you and we don’t.
We are strong and confident, weak and afraid.
We are women and we are men. Old and young. Gay and straight. Bi and trans
We are famous and unknown.
And we are successful and destitute.
Our group is very large and diverse, but we all have something in common.
We were all sexually assaulted or abused.
And too many of us are locked in a shroud of secrecy.
The who, what, when and how is unique to each story. Some of us were children. Others, adults.
But what we all have experienced is insurmountable shame – shame that is not warranted.
We were all victims. But. Victims have nothing for which to be ashamed.
And when we learn that simple truth, we become survivors.
That very simple truth, however, can be buried deep within our psyche and suppressed by fear, pain, anger, misunderstanding, disbelief, judgment, and secrecy. Shoveling away the dirt can take decades, and emerging from the shadows is anything but simple.
But when we find our courage to speak the truth and tell our story to family, friends, professionals or even perfect strangers, we can step out of the darkness and no longer hide.
Because we are no longer ashamed.
We are proud – proud that we had the strength to be honest and own what happened as something someone else did – not something we caused.
Turning taboo into the truth liberates the spirit, and exchanging anger for acceptance brings peace. But the ultimate reason for revealing our story should not be for avenging the perpetrator but for healing ourselves.
So, if you’re not one of us, I implore you to spare your judgment. Please think before you speak. Educate yourself and learn what happens when abuse or assault occur.
And if you are one of us – if you haven’t already – seek the help you need to turn your shame into survival. Find someone who will listen to, understand, and guide you. Embrace your story and speak your truth — in your own way.
Then. You can turn your darkness into light. And finally breathe.
Love hurts. It stinks. I’m better off without it. Done. No more for me.
Sound like bitterness?
Maybe. But it could be survival.
Because the best way to remedy a situation that feels like drowning is to swim.
And surviving a breakup is like sinking into a black hole filled with water and swimming with all your might to reach the surface again.
But. Remember this:
You simply cannot mourn the loss of something you never had.
So before you ruin your pillowcase with mascara stains, think about it rationally.
If it was true love you experienced, the object of your affection would have showered you with roses and champagne instead of making a delivery of whatever to someone else.
As soon as you come to grips with that fact, your sadness will change to anger.
But, beware.
Prison is not worth it.
In a matter of time, your anger will change to cynical indifference.
And the way to get to that point is with humor.
As with everything else, laughter can help even the saddest of hearts.
Consider the story a friend of mine told me about her recent break-up.
Her ex told her that he was “looking for a woman to knock his socks off and that it just didn’t happen with her.”
She said she felt like a knife had pierced her heart instead of Cupid’s arrow. But she tried to maintain her composure, stood up, stared him squarely in the eyes and answered: “Then maybe she shouldn’t wear your socks so damn tight.”
If someone can’t see your worth, kick ’em to the curb. That’s their problem. Not yours.
Because if it’s true love, it’s there no matter what.
And that means when the socks are on and off.