Abuse, Incest, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Rape

ABUSE Has No Measure

I received a response from a friend of mine the other day and felt the need to address it. After reading my blog she texted the following, “I’m in tears and speechless”; then her other response got to me even more because she said, “lol…I am a loser”. She made me laugh but it wasn’t funny. My friend has received coaching from me and I give her advice whenever she needs it. I know most of what has occurred in her life and childhood. After reading my blog, she compared my trauma to her own and felt like “a loser” because I have spent so much time working with her on her issues, when I have so much pain of my own. She is a survivor of many abuses, including being a witness to her father’s attempt to kill her mother.

Abuse has no measure! One does not receive more abuse than another. We all deal with our abuse differently. I know a woman who was inappropriately touched by a neighbor just once; she has never learned to trust anyone because of this. When I heard the stories from the three women who were sex slaves for Ariel Castro for ten years, I too compared my trauma to theirs. It’s inevitable that we will do this from time-to-time. It’s a part of our human nature. No matter how bad your circumstance is or becomes, there will always be someone who has been through “worse”….but remember “worse” and “bad” are relative at best.

Whether you were sexually, physically, mentally or emotionally abused, you hurt. Not only do you hurt , but you will also act out your pain. We usually don’t connect our choices and actions to our pain. If you take the time to be honest with yourself and be willing to take a look into the darkness, you will see the connections. We all have pain to deal with on some level. We all deserve healing. We all have the right to be heard. Your story is just as important as mine.

Abuse has no measure. You all matter…at least, to me, you do. And you are not a loser.

Abuse, Incest, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Rape

I Can Breath Again

I do not know how else to describe what I am feeling, except to say that for the first time in a long time…I can breath again. The support that I have received so far has been quite amazing. To my new friends who are now sharing their own stories of abuse and incest, thank you for speaking up and standing together. I will continue to share my story with you; not because I want to, but because I need to.

I am so happy to say that I have two wonderful cousins that took a stand for me and spoke for me, and let me know how much they love me. When they stood tall in my corner, I found myself taking a deep breath and exhaled in a way that made me feel lighter. That’s all I ever wanted…to actually feel supported.

So the journey continues; because this is not just my journey, it’s our journey.

To my brother and sister, hang in there. Your healing has just begun and I’ll be there to walk you through it. Thank you both for being there and having my back.

My story has just begun; there is so much more to share. I am also looking forward to hearing your stories as well.

May God Bless You All.
Be Well, Play Well & Love One Another

Abuse, Incest, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Rape

BULLET PROOF You Cannot Hurt Me Anymore

The responses to my blog has been quite amazing. Thank you for all your support. I even thank those family members who has taken a stand to be my voice as well. For those of you whos response is to be angry with me, so be it. To my cousins who feel the need to defend your parents honour, well I understand. My feelings about what happened to me are MY FEELINGS. My perspective on this issue is quite different from yours. Whatever was said on facebook as a negative comment was said without having a single word spoken to me. But if you had asked me I would have explained that I found it interesting that my minister aunt and grandmother gave or laon me money during hard times but chose to reject me shortly thereafter. Perhaps the money came from church funds….but that’s what chuches are for, remember. You also would have been told that I originally contacted my aunt because I wanted to be “water baptized” and wanted her to perform the duty. You would have been told that after receiving this money I was told by my grandmother that after having a conversation with my aunt, that I should try to get married first; and that it would probably be better for me to attend the church that my mother attends”. You see my dear family, the church was good enough to “lend me money” but I wasn’t good enough to attend my own family church. I was REJECTED FROM THIS FAMILY FOR THE LAST TIME. I was told to attent another church because of the fear of others. So fogive me, if in my eyes it looked like “HUSH MONEY”, of course they really wanted to help me; they just wanted to help from afar. And if they can sit behind my back and accuse me of being a thief and blackmailer, why haven’t they called to ask about the repayment? If they wanted the money back they would have called by now. But not one call since receiving the funds, not one call. It seems to me that I would not have heard anything about this money had I not started this blog. It seems like we are only hearing about it because I spoke up. I’m not “hushed” any more so let’s expose me for the theif that I am. Seems like the loan was forgiven as long as I kept quiet. I’m not quiet, so now you want your money back!!!? Hmmmmm, so thank you dear cousin for proving my point. If I stayed in my corner, you would not know about the money. Hence, HUSH MONEY! Hope I made that clear.

This family has no idea who I am. I thrive on the strength that God has given me. I have many gifts that I now use to help others. I am a Life Coach who must practice what I preach. I am not afraid and I’m fully prepared for all that is to come….the good, the bad and yes the ugly.

Those of you who will be hurt from this blog or become angry, let me give you some advice. When you become so angry, it is never for the reason that is showing up in front of you. Anger is deep rooted. Look into your own darkness; what is it about you that makes you so angry and defensive. Do you have something your hiding that will upset the family as well? Are you angry because your parent is in pain and has to face their own demons? I am not going to defend anything that is said on this blog nor will I apologise for it. You are all entitled to your own opinions. The negative response(s) is a result of secrets being held within this family. To all my cousins out there remember this….there is no condemnation in Christ, therefore I do not hold condemnation towards anyone. In Christ there is only compassion and forgiveness. So I have compassion for all of you and for those who choose to “nail me to the cross”, as my Beloved Jesus would do, I do also….I forgive you. Especially because ignorance is bliss. You cannot be wronged for being angry because you don’t know the truth. Besides, I’m bullet proof; you can’t hurt me anymore. So when you slap me on my cheek, I’ll turn and give you the other.

Abuse, Incest, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Rape

Shining a LIGHT into the DARKNESS

For every wrongdoer hates the Light,

and will not come out into the Light but

shrinks from it, lest his works (his deeds,

his activities, his conduct) be exposed and reproved.

John 9 verse 20

The Amplified Bible

This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.

This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.

This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.

Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.

This is the song I would sing whenever I felt myself slipping into that dark place of my mind. I would sing it over and over again, until I could picture a little flame within me. I know that as long as I could see and hold that light, I would find my way. Even a small dim light is comfort in the darkness. It reminds me of waking up in the middle of the night, craving a drink of water to quench my thirst. You know you have to navigate our way through the dark; at first you try to convince yourself that you can wait until daylight but your thirst will not allow you. So you grab your cell phone, turn on the screen light and hold it in front of you. There is just enough light to see the steps you need to take ahead of you. It’s just enough light to help you find your way; and when you finally arrive in your kitchen, you open the refrigerator and like magic that tiny little light led you to a place that where the light was much brighter. You quench your thirst. Ahhhh!

My family has been through some dark times and are about to go through some more. No different from any other family out there. We all have family drama and the baggage that comes with it. I began to understand why we keep ourselves in that darkness so long. There’s really only one reason, one “bottom line”. You see in the dark, we are safe. In the dark, no one can see what you are hiding. In the dark, no one can see you. The true “bottom line” is that in the dark, you cannot even see yourself. If you cannot see yourself, then you cannot look at yourself. Eventually, you become lost in the darkness. And in the moment when you realize that you are lost, you also wish to be found. But no one will come; that is when you hear a voice ” I AM THE LIGHT” saith the Lord. Since He lives within you, He shines within you. You must then begin to reach for your light and sing “this little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine”. And when it begins to shine just a little bit, you find your way to the well that will quench your thirst.

This is what motivates me; this is my intention. I do not have hatred towards my family; only Love. It is this very Love that allows me to become that Light that this family needs. Then perhaps, just perhaps, we will all become a Light for others. This is what Jesus taught me:

We cannot pull ourselves out of darkness

nor can we avoid it; we can however, navigate

our way THROUGH it. So shine your LIGHT and

become that Light for one another.

Wise One

Abuse, Incest, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Rape

The Blame Game & Accountability

So who’s fault is it? Who is at fault for what happened to me? Who’s to blame for my grandfather’s sick inappropriate sexual behavior towards me? Are my parents to blame because he had access to me week after week for six years? Absolutely not! In the past, I blamed my extended family members; specifically my father’s siblings. Because they were aware of their father’s obsession of younger women. It was something that was considered “no big deal”, perhaps even amusing. When my grandfather would come visit on Saturdays, he would watch wrestling & Solid Gold. If your old enough to remember Solid Gold, then you’ll also remember the “Solid Gold Dancers”. My grandfather looked forward to those half naked dancers. I heard stories of prior rapes and even animal cruelty. Though my grandfather took a liking to younger women, I don’t believe anyone thought he was a pedophile.

I do not blame my family for what my grandfather did to me; not anymore. Had it come to their attention prior to me speaking up, he would have been stopped. At least that is what I want to believe. In some weird way I can’t even blame him because he must have went through some abuse himself to become the monster that he was to me. I have spent a great deal of time trying to figure out the root of such evil, but to no avail.

I want to take time to mention that there were six other victims for my grandfather that I know of; but only four of them are known to me. They were not raped by him but they were hurt and torn apart in ways they could not imagine. Those other victims are my father, mother, brother and sister. When I speak of “my family”, please understand that I am not speaking of my immediate family because my father’s Father manipulated my whole household; not just me.

Our family was a close (extended) family or that’s what I thought; however, when the family needed to be closer than ever – it did the total opposite. So though I may blame no one for the abuse from my grandfather, I do blame the elders (3 aunts, 1 uncle and my grandmother) in my family for something.

I blame them for NOT holding my grandfather accountable for his choices and actions towards me. They may disagree with me but let me shed some light on WHY I feel this way.

My family did not hold my grandfather accountable when:
…………they chose to shelter him while hanging me out to dry in the rain.
…………he was allowed to deny what he did and set free because the family decided to “handle it”. He was free while I entered the prison of my mind.
…………he was allowed to attend all our Family Christmas Dinners and our Annual Family BBQ. I was forced to be civil to him when all I wanted to do was slap him and create a scene. This is when I became invisible.
…………when they all swept this under the rug. By doing this, they also swept me under the rug; and I’ve allowed them all to walk on that same rug for 28 years. Each time they stepped on me, I sceramed out for help. But my screams went unheard and when they did hear me, I was given a band aid and swept back under the rug. Then they would walk on that dirty rug all over again. I realised that I wasn’t as invisible as I thought….they just simply closed their eyes, because seeing me would mean seeing the injured prey that the predator had captured. MY GRANDFATHER LIVED AND DIED AS A PEDOPHILE.

My grandfather may have knocked me down, but what my family DID NOT DO….CRUSHED ME!

Abuse, Incest, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Rape

Transparency & My Battle With Demons

Promiscuity; Depression; Confusion; Narcissistic; Bulimic; Obsessive Compulsive; Vengeful; Envious; Manipulator; Fault Finder; Risk Taker; Suicidal; Thief; Liar; Unforgiving; Full of Rage; Full of Anger; Self-Hatred; Self-Pity; Self-Destructive; Self-Sabotage; VICTIM. These are the demons of my past.

Like most demons, they sneak up on you; disguising themselves, making you believe that they are your friends. They tell you how much you need them and that they’ll keep you protected, safe from harm. Before you know it, they take control; control of your life then control of you. Eventually these demons destroy you…..if you let them. So, I decided not to let them destroy me.

Six months after giving birth to my daughter, my symptoms of abuse were triggered while changing her diaper. I made a comment to myself regarding how cute her “VA J J” was. I froze and became concerned that I had violated my little girl; I sobbed, promising never to do that again. You see, my other two children are boys (18 & 10 yrs at that time) and I had no strong reactions while caring for them. Nothing I did in the past could have prepared me for the hell that was about to be unleashed on my world.

I knew that I would never hurt my daughter; the problem was I could NEVER SAY NEVER regarding everyone else. I can never say that her brothers or her father wouldn’t hurt her. My parents made that mistake. I was there when my parents sat in the living room across from me sitting on my grandfathers lap. They had no idea that his hand was between my legs. My little girl became a constant reminder of what happened to me and now it was my job to protect her at all cost. For the next three years my symptoms became worse; it was time to get help because this hell & its demons were beginning to consume every part of my being. It took another two years before I was able to find the help I needed because I discovered that what was happening to me had a name; it’s called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I am happy to say that I am currently in intense one-on-one truma therapy and those demons….gone. Ok, maybe not all of them but I can tell you that the demons that are present don’t consume me anymore. Where they once had control of me, I now have control of them.

Abuse, Incest, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Rape


The truth is, that at the precious age of 8 years old my paternal grandfather began to molest me with every chance he got. This was easy as I saw him almost every weekend for six years. He was one of my main caregivers. In 1983 at the age of 10, my grandfather raped me for the first time. He did this when my parents took a trip back home to Jamaica with my younger sister. My older brother and I were trusted in the care of my grandparents. My brother was sent away to our cousins’ house, while my grandmother spent most of her time at our family church that was run by her son-in-law. For two weeks or more my grandfather finally had me to himself. He took my virginity; he violated my trust; I lost my identity; I lost my sense of self. The truth is, I knew none of this at the time. The truth is, I thought it was normal. I thought I was special. I thought I was his favorite. He said if I told our secret that he wouldn’t be able to treat me “so nice” any more. He made me feel like I was his whole world. I loved him, but little did I know, because it was all a lie. He was the only one who made me feel special; and because I thought it was normal, I liked the way he made me feel. When I discovered that what he was doing was wrong, I was devastated but I was angry even more. Angry because this trauma controlled every part of my being for so much of my teenage years, and into adulthood.