Why I didn’t Report It….

People don’t report it because of B.S. like yesterday’s hearing, because of the weeks leading up to it, because in this society we seek sympathy for the attacker while simultaneously trying to discredit the victim and putting them on trial.

People don’t report it because rarely is justice served, especially if said person is in a position of power, a celebrity or athlete, or of “good moral standing” (basically rich white boys).

People don’t report because boys will be boys ( which apparently means they do not have to be taught to control their urges), because people change and they were just teenagers, she was dressed inappropriately, because “no” isn’t really no, because we don’t value consent, because they were under the influence, because they hooked up or kissed before.

People don’t report it because they are ashamed (being assaulted makes you feel dirty, makes you feel so many tumultuous emotions, no matter how many showers you take or how hard you scrub you can never wash it away, trust me I have tried), they are wracked with guilt (freezing is very common and the guilt of not being “strong” enough to stop it is very real and very hard to come to terms with), many times their safety is threatened, as mine was one of the times I was raped, I was told to shut up and be quiet or else he would go shoot my cousins in front of me and still rape me, he held a gun to my head.

I didn’t report any of the attacks after my first one because I never got justice.

My father molested me when I was 9, we sought justice, but because I was far too traumatized to speak at his trial he got to plea bargain and hardly served anytime in jail. We are talking he got out in less than 4 months because of “good behavior.” For months afterwards I had nightmares, I had to sleep with my mama, I checked every door and window several times to ensure they were locked, I was convinced it was my fault, it was because I wasn’t a boy (he always wanted me to be a boy, told me as much and cut my hair and dressed me up like a boy, even after my brother was born.) I was so traumatized and that incident as well as the ones which have preceded it have had a dramatic impact on every facet of my life, but especially my romantic and physical/sexual relationships.

So the first time my cousin assaulted me,he forced me to give him a hand job, tried to do more, but he only stopped because my other cousin saw and because I broke down asking him why he was doing this to me (this was within a year or so of my dad molesting me.) We never pursued it because I didn’t want to go through another trial, the first one was traumatic enough, because we chalked it up to childhood curiosity, because I didn’t want my family to hate me.

The second time when he raped me the morning of my mother’s wedding, I told no one… for years I kept it a secret. I was getting ready to leave for the Navy in a few weeks (I had worked my whole life to enlist, signed up for 8 years right off the bat and everything), I didn’t want to go to a trial, I didn’t want to have to recount that morning/night (it happened between 3 and 4 am) over and over again, I didn’t want to remember that morning, I just wanted to forget, I wanted to get away, to get as far away as I could. I wanted to go somewhere that he couldn’t touch me. The military could also give me the knowledge and ability to protect myself better (a definite bonus, although not my reason for enlisting)
While away at basic I had a massive nervous breakdown while there and ended up having to leave. I ended up losing out on my lifelong dream of being in the military, I had to choose to walk away from something I had spent my life working for, because I knew that I needed to process the trauma and wasn’t willing to risk my own life or the life of my fellow sailors (did not want to have a flashback during an important mission.) I had compartmentalized the whole attack which I thought would be enough, but the military is designed to break you physically and mentally and it shattered the fortress I had built around that fateful day. Losing the military nearly broke me, I lost a piece of myself that day, a piece I have yet to recover, I was devastated. It has been 13 years since I enlisted and not a day goes by that I do not wish things had turned out differently.

The only reason I broke down and told my mom, was because she had been thinking about allowing him to live with us. This was 2 years after the attack, 2 years of sitting in silence, 2 years of pretending like nothing had happened, 2 years of guilt, of shame, of flashbacks, 2 years after losing my whole world, 2 years of failed relationships, 2 years of a failed attempt at college, 2 years of so many emotions.

Even when I told her, we still decided to never take it beyond that point. My family had been through so much, I had been through so much, still I was trying to forget it ever happened. I wanted no one to know I had been violated, I wanted no one to know I had been weak, I wanted no one to know I was damaged goods once again….

Yet, even when he had a breakdown (while in the military himself, such ironic bullshit I lost my own chance to serve due to the trauma of his attacks, and yet, he who decided pretty much last minute to enlist unlike myself who worked my whole life for it, managed to serve quite a few years) and admitted to detectives that he raped me, I still received absolutely no justice, instead I was put through a year plus of hell while he changed his story, while I had to recount that night several times, while I spent my 25th birthday with a detective giving him every sordid detail from that night/morning, while many of my family turned on me (most still believe him over me). Because of the trial I was unable to go to my grandfather’s celebration of life ceremony, he was the most important person in my life, next to my mama, I still haven’t fully processed his death.

The others times before, between, and after those incidents, I didn’t report it because the justice system has proven over and over again they do not care about the victims. To me there was no point.

Traumas like this don’t just affect one part of your life, they weave their way into the deepest and darkest of crevices. Even when you think you have healed, you have processed it, you have moved on, it is ALWAYS there. They do not go away because of therapy, they do not go away after years, they are never forgotten, they become a part of you.

It is for those and so many reasons we don’t report it.

Unless you have been a victim you cannot begin to fathom the emotions that come with being assaulted.

Unless you have been violated on such a deep and personal level you do not understand the depths to which that shame, guilt, and fear can run.

Unless you have had someone make you feel dirty, weak, and like nothing more than an object you can never begin to grasp how that affects you for years, it leaves deep scars that will never heal. To this day, even after tons of therapy, writing about it, and having a very open discussion and dialogue about my own experiences I still feel all these emotions and more. I still get flashbacks, I can still feel their hands upon my skin. While it is better than it was, you never forget.

Even if you have experienced this, everyone processes trauma differently, it is not your right or your place to tell them how or when they should process their trauma. You do not get to decide their way of coping.

***TRIGGER WARNING- This section of this post may be very upsetting***

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It was the summer of 2006, I had just graduated high school early, had returned home from spending a few months back home in California with my family, and was getting ready to leave for the Navy. Several of my family members were visiting because my mom was about to get married to my stepfather. It was supposed to be a happy time for us all, an occasion we could look back on with joy, but for me that joyous occasion has been tainted.

It was the morning of my mom’s wedding, somewhere between 3-4 A.M., my cousins and I had been up playing manhunt, hanging out, and just spending as much time together as we could. With my leaving for the military soon and us all living on opposite ends of the country, we valued the time we got to spend together. With the hours quickly dwindling until the big affair a few of my cousins decided to try and sleep, while the rest just hung out and relaxed in the house. With a lot on my mind from my moms pending nuptials to the love of her life to my leaving for the military in a few weeks and having just ended a relationship with my partner I had quite a bit on my mind. Sitting down just inside the tent where we would be having the reception for my moms wedding, I stared off at the pond, took a few deep breaths, and allowed myself to just relax and be in the moment. All thoughts of the Navy, of my partner and their drama, of the jitters for my moms big day drifted away as I sank further into a state of relaxation.

After several minutes my cousin, who was 3 sheets to the wind sat down next to me, sat down next to me. We sat there talking for several minutes after which he leaned in and tried to kiss me, I turned away, but he pushed my down onto my back, putting his full weight on top of me. I told him to stop, I fought back, I tried everything to get him off me. But he had at least 50 lbs probably more on me and he was all muscle, I weighed maybe 100lbs. Pulling my pants off with his one hand, while his other had mine pinned above my head, he inserted his penis into me as he proceeded to rape me. Tears streaming down my face, I fought back with every ounce of myself, I thrashed around until finally I managed to slip out from under him. I scrambled to my feet, my pants and underwear still around my ankles, I tried to get away. He grabbed me by my ankles, yanking my feet out from under me, as I feel face first onto the ground. Mind you there is a small hill in my parents back yard, so it is already kinda difficult to go up without this. He flipped me over, pinning me down again, he went back at it. Again, I fought back with everything I had, and once more I managed to get away. But, that wouldn’t last as he grabbed me a 3rd time, slamming be back down on the ground nearly knocking me unconscious. This time he managed to keep his hold on me until he finished, although thankfully he didn’t finish inside me. When he was done, he just got up like nothing had happened, while I sat there in a crumpled heap, unsure of how to process this. The first 2 times were about 5-10 minutes before I managed to get him off me, the final time was over 15 minutes.

I just laid there for a few minutes trying to collect myself, because I didn’t want anyone to know what had just happened, I didn’t want to ruin my mom’s big day. I cleaned myself up, wiped the dirt and mud from me, wiped my tears away, gathered my strength and went back inside. I briefly stopped to talk to my other cousins, but then went to my room to finish collecting myself because my mom was getting married in only a few short hours and I wanted to make sure she had the best day possible.

The wedding went off without a hitch, I had to pose for picture with him, my family stuck around for a few more days, most of which I spent trying to avoid him, but not fully being able to because I didn’t want anyone to suspect anything. In the weeks after my moms wedding as the photos came back and we recalled that day, I had to put on a brave face whenever I saw his picture, or his name came up.

As Always My Beautiful Badass Unicorn Phoenix Goddesses,

I Hope You Have A Magical Day

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Taking Time To Myself

From August to the end of September, I tend to pull back from the world a bit. As those months are the times in which some of the most defining moments of my life have happened to me. It is during those months that many of the events that greatly influenced and shaped the woman I am today occurred. They are, for me, the hardest months of the year, they are the time when I tend to take some time for myself, when I give myself space and permission to reflect on all that I have been through in my life, they are the months in which I allow myself the space to continue to heal.

It was during these months that my father molested me (many moons ago now, but not something you ever truly forget), that I nearly died 2 years ago when my idiotic doctors once again messed up my medications (I had been on some pretty heave anti-psychotics and anti-anxiety medications, in which I ended up going off cold turkey. This was one of many times they messed up my scripts and I was done, but it was a week utter hell as my body went through withdrawals. Even 2 years later I am still healing from this), it was during the months of August and September I have had some of my worst suicide attempts and when my uncle took his own life, and it was during the end of September that my cousin ended her life as well as when my grandfather (he was by far the most important person in my life, next to my mother. I am the woman I am today because of him and not a day goes by that I do not miss him) passed away. Each of these events have taught me so much about the value of life, about how precious life truly is, about how even those who are supposed to protect you from the monsters of the world may turn out to be the monsters themselves. All of this showed me a strength within, showed me that even when it feels like my whole world has crumbled I can persevere, it showed me that there is always a lesson in everything.

While I have come to terms with these events and learned the lessons I needed to from them, they do still affect me to some degree during these months. I never want to forget any of the struggles, any of the trials and tribulations I have endured, I have overcome because without them I wouldn’t be who I am. If I were to forget them, I would open myself up to the possibility of them happening again. I am however, eternally grateful for the products I discovered at the end of July, because they made getting through these months easier than they have ever been for me in the past. They have helped me to not completely shut down and shut the world out as I have done many times in the past. They allowed me the clarity and relief to heal but to also understand all of those events on a deeper level than ever before.

As Always My Beautiful Baddass Unicorn Phoenix Goddesses,
I Hope You Have A Magical Day!

Getting Honest With Myself & The World

The downside to always being the strong one, of always being there for everyone else, at mastering not appearing sick is that very few people realize the extent to which you may suffering or the severity to which the things that ail you truly do. People are so used to you helping them, many times they do not realize that you help them because you know what it is like to suffer and a part of you is hoping they will help you to. Now that I have finally gotten my service dog, I realized there are going to be those in my life who do not realize my true need for her.

I am not saying that people do not realize the things that I struggle with, as I am a very open book about most of my health especially my mental health, but rather there is a select few who truly know the capacity to which this affects my life. There are few who have seen the depths to which this has taken over. Most think they know but in reality, they only know what I choose to show them, what I allow the world to see. There is much more to the ways in which my diseases and my health has impacted every facet of my life. I have made a point to be quite selective with what I share, with who I let in, with what people know. I have hidden many of the details from my own family, from my best friends, from so many people.

I spent so much of my life wanting so desperately to be like everyone else, to not feel like I do, to fit in, that I learned how to appear “normal,” I learned how to adapt myself to not be the “crazy” girl, to not be the “sick” one. I studied those who didn’t have the struggles I did, and I tried to mimic them, their behaviors, their looks, their attitudes, I became a chameleon. Along the way I lost sight of myself, of who I was, of what made me… ME. This was one of the most detrimental things I had ever done in my quest for “normalcy,” because I became a shell of a person with a thousand masks that changed depending upon my surroundings or my company. No one got to know the real me, no one was allowed to see the identity hidden deep within. This allowed me to keep everyone at a safe distance, to keep them from seeing just how bad it truly was, seeing just how much I hated myself.

 I spent so many years ashamed of my struggles, of my diseases that I worked tirelessly to cover them up, to pretend like they weren’t there, to be “happy.” I spent so much time hiding away my truth, never allowing anyone the chance to see the real me, to love the real me, to accept the real me. I had convinced myself that it wasn’t possible for people to love me, that I wasn’t deserving of the love and respect I have seen so many others receive. I have convinced myself of so many terrible things, I have poisoned my mind against myself, I have repeatedly sent the message to the Universe that I am UNWORTHY, that I am BROKEN, I am UNLOVEABLE.

The time for hiding is over, the time for pretending is gone, the time for shame is no more. It is time to shatter the masks, to reveal my true identity, to get comfortable in my own skin. It is time to get honest with myself and with the world. It is time to give people a chance to get to know and love me for who I truly am inside.

I spend far too many nights scared & alone, lost in my triggers, crying because once again my PTSD has taken over. I spend far too many days hiding in my house because I am too scared of the outside world, because I so deeply fear what others will say or think of me. I spend far too much of my life consumed with these never-ending thoughts of feeling unworthy, of feeling broken, of feeling so many terrible things. So much of my life is spent in a state of fear that I end up missing out on so much, I miss out on grand adventures, I miss out on relationships, I lose friendships, I miss out on life.  I have spent so much time locked in the prison I have created. My anxiety is so bad is causing these seizure-like episodes, which has cost me the ability to drive. I hold so much tension, so much of my stress in that my body in a constant state of pain. There are days where I can’t even get out of bed from the pain being so severe, days where I just want to throw in the towel and give up. There are days where I have 10 or more anxiety or panic attacks. Most nights I am lucky if I am able to get 2 hours of sleep throughout the entire night. Half of the time is spent waking up, shooting straight up, looking around in a panic, taking several minutes to realize where I am, to realize I am safe in my bed, to realize nothing and no one is hurting me. I have been so hard on my body, from my years of trying to kill myself, my years of just not caring, my years of trying to silence the pain, and it is all catching up to me now.

This past year I have gotten very honest with myself, I have worked on shifting my mindset, I have focused on the ways in which I use my words, on the messages I have been sending to the Universe. I have put an emphasis on the foods I eat, on the products I use, on the people I surround myself with, on so many things. I have changed so many things in my life and will continue to change until I reach the life I seek. While I have worked incredibly hard in the last few years to regain the control over my life, to truly start the recovery process, to heal, I still have quite a way to go. However, I will not give up, as I have now had a taste of true happiness, of hope, of the life I have always sought. No longer will I hide away, no longer will I pretend to be something or someone I am not. While I am far from healing, I am proud of the progress I have made so far. I can say that with each day everything improves.

As Always,

My Beautiful Baddass Unicorn Phoenix Goddesses I Hope You Have A Magical Day!

Connecting To My Power Through Masturbation

As part of this new journey I am on, where I am focusing on loving myself completely, there is one area in which I struggle with greatly. That would be SEX & MASTURBATION. Masturbation has always been a very sort of taboo subject, especially for women to discuss, but it was never one I shied away from. I had always been very open about my sexuality, about my likes, my dislikes, about my masturbation habits. To me, sex and masturbation are perfectly natural and we all do it or want to do it (unless of course you’re are Asexual, in which case you don’t feel the same inclinations we do. Which there is nothing wrong with either, as we all have our preferences), but society is still very much hush hush about sex and masturbation. It weird though, because I am still very open about my sexual fantasies, my masturbation, and all that extra curricular activity, but the actual act of masturbation has changed so much for me over the last several years as has the pleasure I derive from it.

Sex for me has always been a bit of a complicated endeavor, as I am the type who cannot get off without an emotional connection to my partner. Yet, masturbation for me was never really a struggle, that part was always easy for me. I loved it, I relished in pleasuring myself, in connecting with myself, in bringing myself to climax. I loved exploring my own body, I loved touching myself, I loved every aspect of masturbation. I loved getting new toys, loved trying new methods, loved the art of discovery. I remember a point in my life when I didn’t need the assistance of toys (albeit, I enjoyed them, but they weren’t essential to my pleasure), of partner filled fantasies, of videos, of all this other stuff to get me aroused. To me, masturbation was the best part of my day. It helped to relieve stress, it helped me sleep, helped me to wake up in the morning, it helped me with so many different things. I will openly admit that I masturbate at least once a day, if not many times most days. Masturbation has always been an essential part of my daily routine, but it doesn’t bring me the same levels of pleasure it once did. Something happened in the last few years to me and now I just cannot seem to gain any sort of real lasting pleasure without assistance of some sort. Even when I do gain pleasure, it isn’t the same as it was, it is such a struggle and it never really lasts that long, and I certainly don’t climax. Some of the things that kills me the most is all my sexual fantasies involve a partner of some sort, is that my own fingers do nothing for me anymore, and my toys barely do anything. I am really good at sexting and if I choose to masturbate while sexting, then I can generally get myself off pretty damn well, but when it is just me with myself, no fantasy, no messages, no pictures I cannot get the job done. Somehow along the way I became so focused on pleasing my partners, so stuck on the idea that true pleasure could only come from a partner that I forgot how to please myself. I forgot what felt good, what felt right, what my own touch felt like, I forgot what it was like to be the one who made my vagina wet.

Now, most times when I masturbate I hardly ever even get wet, which had never been an issue for me in the past. During these last several years, I have been put through the ringer emotionally and physically and all of that has taken a serious toll on who I am at my core. Where I once found so much enjoyment from masturbation, now I am so self-conscious that I can’t truly get into it. Where I once was able to take myself all the way to climax with my fingers, now my fingers feel foreign to me, they feel unsure, they feel almost disconnected. This struggle has left me feeling broken, discouraged, and dissatisfied, and quite frankly frustrated and fed the fuck up. Men do not realize how dang easy they have it when it comes to masturbation or the struggle that we women face. Masturbation doesn’t hold the same joy it once did for me, but I want to get back to the woman I was before all this, the woman who was unapologetically herself, the one who enjoyed pleasuring herself, the one who had a deep connection to her higher self.

I know much of my struggles comes from the fallout from my abusive marriage, as that rocked me to my very core. It was not physically abusive, but emotionally, and during that time I lost all myself, lost my confidence, my voice, my power, my everything. It has been a long journey over this past year plus to put the pieces back together, to find myself, to reclaim my power, to silence the voices he created. I also know much of it comes from this insane idea that I must have a partner to climax. Which is beyond ridiculous I know, but at this point I am unsure how to retrain my brain to believe otherwise. I used to be a pretty dominate take charge kind of personality, especially in the bedroom, and I have always much preferred the more dominate roles, but that marriage took that from me. It turned me into someone meek, someone unsure of themselves, someone who questioned every aspect of who they were. I want to regain my power, my presence, my confidence.

So NOW….

I am on a mission.

I am on a mission to reclaim my SEXUAL POWER, to be able to PLEASURE MYSELF again. A mission that will help me to reconnect with myself, that will help me to manifest my desires, a mission that will help many different aspects of my life. I know that when we, especially as women, embrace and are unapologetic about our sexuality amazing things happen. I am on a mission to pleasure myself without the use of outside sources, tools, or anything. It is my mission to be able to get myself off using only my fingers and to rebuild that connection and that deep understanding I had with my body.

 

As Always,

My Beautiful Badass Unicorn Phoenix Goddesses, I Hope You Have A Magical Day!

Becoming A BADASS INDEPENDENT WOMAN Who Also Still Believes in True Love

If y’all caught yesterday’s post then you know that I had been in a relationship that unfortunately has ended. During our brief time together that man made me feel such wonderful things, made me feel things no one had yet to make me feel, made me fall pretty quick and hard for him. Yet, more than that he gave me back something I had lost during my abusive marriage, during many of my previous relationships. He gave me back my belief in myself, in my value, in my worthiness, in my capacity to not only give but also to receive love. Our time together may not have been very long, but as I said in the previous post I will be forever grateful for it and I will love him always because of all that I received.

Yet, here is the one thing I struggle with, the one thing I see so many struggle with, men and women alike, but definitely more woman than men. It is something I have struggled with myself for many years. It is this strong desire to be the BADASS INDEPENEDENT WOMAN who ALSO has a LOVING, SUPPORTIVE, PARTNER. Yet, so many times it seems that people have this antiquated view that you cannot have both, that you must choose between yourself or having the partner and/or family you may be dreaming of. WELL once again I CALLL BULLSHIT on that.

It is not a matter of CHOOSING OURSELVES over LOVE…

It is not a matter of LOSING our independence to ANOTHER…

It is not a matter of GIVING UP OUR POWER to our PARTNER….

It is not a matter of SILENCING OUR VOICE to be lower than our SIGNICANT OTHER

It is not a matter of DIMMING OUR LIGHTS so that others may SHINE BRIGHTER….

But rather it is about UNDERSTANDING

Understanding that LOVE is the most POWERFUL CREATOR of all.

Understanding that one can have BOTH a DEEP LOVE for themselves as well as for another.

Understanding that we are not choosing, nor are we losing, but rather we are GAINING so very much.

Understanding that with the right person, our light will shine brighter, our voice will ring deeper, our message heard by more.

Understanding that we are not in any sort of way obligated to have a partner, but if you want one you can still be a BADDASS INDEPENDENT WOMAN.

All that being said, for me right now, what I must learn to do, is to first become that BADDASS INDEPENDENT WOMAN. For, I am a serial relationship person, I do not do casual, nor are flings really my thing. I am the type to catch feelings pretty quick, which is of course exacerbated by my abilities to feel everything so deeply as a side effect from my battles with my mental health, as well as being an empath. Yet, I have never taken the time to foster that deep and intrinsic connection with myself. I have spent so much of my life in relationships, most of which were incredibly toxic, that I do not know how to be with myself, I do not know how to love, to appreciate, to accept myself. I have spent so many years forming my beliefs around myself, around my value, around my worth, based off of the ways in which my partners saw me, based off the partners I was or was not attracting. When I wasn’t in a relationship, I saw myself as unworthy, as unlovable, I found myself desperately seeking out any sort of partnership , no matter how wrong that person may or may not have been for me, I ignored warning signs & red flags, nor did I head the comments of others. I did all this so that I could feel valid, so that I could feel wanted, needed, loved. I did this because without a partner I saw myself as useless.

Society, has taught us that as woman that without a MAN (We still have a ways to go with accepting those who choose nontraditional partners, and I have had both male and female partners. The struggle is real and not based off gender either) we are LESS THAN, that we are somehow INFERIOR, that our value, our worth, or very existence is determined by and for the sole purpose of catching and keeping a man, of reproducing…. We are so brainwashed into believing that without said man we are somehow defective, that we are somehow broken. This then fosters an unhealthy need to find satisfaction, to find our worth, to find love from outside sources rather than from within. This sets women up to find love with partners who seek to control them, rather than help them grow, with partners who wish to take away their power rather than embrace it, with partners who seek to silence them rather than give them the mic in which to speak. We seek companionship in all the wrong places because we are not first taught how to love ourselves, we are not taught that our identity is not defined by a man or a lack thereof. We are not taught how to be strong, how to be independent, how to be BADASS, but rather we are taught that men prefer weakness, that no one wants an opinionated woman, that we must be meek, we must be our partners subservient rather than their equal. We are taught to seek out flaws in others, especially other women, we are taught that life is a competition, that we must step on others to get ahead. We are taught that our power doesn’t matter more than that of a man, that our dignity and sexuality is far less important than a man. We raise women to believe so little in themselves than admonish and shame them when they stay with abusive partners, when a man takes advantage of them, or when heaven forbid they try to break free from those expectations, when they do not want a family, nor do they need a partner to feel satisfied. We need to change that rhetoric….

Yet, being in a relationship was no more healthy for me than being out of one, as I gave all of myself to my partners, I allowed many of them to control me, to dictate my every thought process, to change me at my very core, I allowed them to change deep beliefs. I only saw myself as beautiful for as long as they did, my value was determined by the time and attention they were giving to me. When in a relationship, I give my partner unlimited love and support, many times at the detriment of myself, of my hopes, of my dreams, of my values, and of my feelings. I spend so much time uplifting them, of making them comfortable, of helping them achieve their dreams, that my own become a distant memory. Then next thing I know, they’re moving on with their lives and I am far worse than I was to begin with. So much of my identity has been defined by my partners that much of it is taken from me with the parting of each of them. In a relationship, I am no longer myself, but rather an extension of my partner.

Now is the time I RECLAIM my POWER as A WOMAN…

Now is the time I FOSTER my SELF-LOVE as a WOMAN

Now is the time I MAKE MYSELF the PRIORITY

Now is the time I DETERMINE & DEFINE my VALUE

Gone are the days of ALLOWING others to DICTATE my WORTH

Gone are the days of GIVING my ALL to those who sought to ABUSE IT

Gone are the days of FORGETTING all that I OFFER

Gone are the days of HELPING others grow, while putting myself LAST.

When the time is right, I shall put myself back out there, I shall find the partner who is worthy of me, of all that I have to offer, but for now I must focus on myself, I must ensure that I do not follow the same path I have for so many years now. All that I have been through, has not changed my belief or my desire to find true love, but has rather given me a deeper understanding of what true love actually means.

A

s Always,

My Beautiful Badass Unicorn Phoenix Goddesses I Hope You Have A Magical Day!

Our Bodies Are Not Our Own…. But They Should Be!

I am not one to typically talk about political issues often on public forums such as this, but as a woman the current directions of the policies affects me directly. So we are going to talk about a very hot button and personal issue for me, but it is something I feel incredibly passionate about. I had made a video about part of this subject on my personal Facebook page many months ago, and was honestly shocked at the love and support I received. As a woman, for the first time in a very long time I am honestly terrified for my safety, as my rights and those of other women are being threatened in my country. Things like Planned Parenthood and rulings like Roe VS Wade gives women a safe place to get the medical care and attention they need and deserve, but now all of that may be stripped away from us. Do people so easily forget about when girls were having babies at prom and dumping them down the toilet or leaving them in dumpsters? Do they not remember the horror stories of coat hanger abortions? Do they not realize that by defunding programs like Planned Parenthood, like overturning Roe VS. Wade they are not going to prevent abortions, but rather put more lives at risk? Do they not understand that by doing all this they prevent women from having access to birth control, to safe spaces where they can learn about their bodies, the changes that occur, and the complications that come from being a woman?

That being said, I understand we all have our own opinions, our own experiences, our own paths and journeys in which we are embarking upon, and I respect everyone’s rights to their opinions, to their feelings, to their perspectives, all I ask is that others show me the same level of respect. I am not under the impression that everyone will agree with my thoughts or opinions, but we are all adults and should take time to step out of ourselves, out of our own ego and try to understand the reasons behind others choices.

Deep breaths, here we go…. Please understand this, like many of my posts, is incredibly hard for me to make, and this is about much more than just abortion, this is about women’s rights as a whole. I had an abortion, when I was 26… Y’all need to understand something here that was by far one of the most heartbreaking and hardest decisions I have ever had to make in my life. While, I do not in any way regret my decision that does not mean it was an easy one to deal with. It is a decision I did not and still do not take lightly, it is one I have thought about many times over.

A little backstory for y’all, having kids biologically that I carry in my own belly is not an option for me, I was informed of this fact many years ago, and while it broke my heart when I found out, I learned to live with that reality, I accepted it and told myself I would adopt. It is far too risky for my health as well as for any potential child for me to even consider having one. Outside of those risks, as someone who lives with pretty severe mental health issues, that adds a whole new level of risk for complications during and post pregnancy. The chances of me carrying the child to full term without myself and or the child losing our lives are incredibly slim and those are not a risks I am willing to take. While I do not take birth control, as my body very severely adversely reacts to the hormones, I do take proper precautions when having sex, but you can’t control everything. Having my tubes tied, while I wish I could find a doctor willing to do it, also isn’t an option until I am 35. I also have a very firm belief that women should have access to ALL of the medical care they need, whether it be birth control, safe abortions, treatment for STD’s, and more.

I knew almost immediately that I was pregnant, I could feel it, I didn’t need some test (although, I still took one) and I was devastated to say the least. It was hard enough learning that I would never be able to carry a child of my own all those years before, but then to find out I was pregnant only made that pain that much worse. I knew I had a decision ahead of me, a decision many wouldn’t agree with, a decision many feel the need to shame people for. There were quite a few moments, where I told myself that maybe just maybe it was worth the risk, but in the end I knew in my heart what I had to do. I called my mom up, tears pouring down my face, and she met up with me at the park we used to like to walk at. We walked for quite a while as I weighed my options with her, as I worked through the emotional roller coaster I was now riding, as I came to terms with the decision I knew I had to make. We were always raised Pro-Choice in our house, as we understand that it is not our right to tell another woman what she should or should not have to do with her own body. So I knew no matter what decision I made, she would support me, but that didn’t make the decision any easier.

I went in for my procedure not long after that and it was excruciating, I have never felt a pain like that before, and I never want to again. That whole experience traumatized me for quite some time afterwards. I had difficult letting my future partners get to close to me, I began to fear sex, I dealt with a lot of shame, I dealt with a whirlwind of emotions as I healed from it. In the days after I had it done, I hardly left my bed and when I did it was to run to the bathroom. Even to this day, quite a few years later I think of it, but rather than the shame I once felt, I have found peace. For, I know that I made the right decision for me as well as that child and all parties involved. I know that what I did was brave in its own way, I know that there is nothing for me to be ashamed of. I was lucky as my mother and the father of the child both were willing to support whatever decision I made.

The reason I struggled so much with my decision in the beginning is because we as women are taught that sex is bad, that masturbation is dirty, that our sole job is to reproduce. Society has taught us that when a woman has multiple partners she is a whore or a slut, but when a man has multiple he is congratulated. We are taught that we must cover ourselves up, that we must not show off our bodies, for we may give the boys the wrong idea, or we are inviting them to touch us. We are taught time after time that our bodies are not our own, when we put these ridiculous policies in place that strip women of their rights. When we teach our boys that is it the way the girl looks, dresses, or acts that is responsible for their urges not themselves, when we teach them to pass the blame onto us instead of how to control themselves and their own urges, when we let rapists go because of the social standing, when we try to discredit the victim rather than supporting them we take that power away from women. (I also understand men can be the victims of sexual assault too, but that is not the point of this piece, nor am I in anyway discrediting what male victims go through.) We as a society raise women to believe they must hid in the shadows, they must be meek, they must not be too sexy, too confident, too independent, or too opinionated. We raise woman to believe we as women must tear each other down, that life is a competition, that we are inferior unless we have children and husbands. We raise women to be fearful and ashamed of their own bodies, to judge others, to fear their power, to fear their sexuality.

Abortion is a hard enough choice for someone to make, without other people, especially other women making them feel like they did something wrong for it. NO ONE has the right to tell another person what they should or should not, what they can or cannot do with their own BODIES. You do not know their history, their health, and the reasons behind their decisions. You do not have to deal with the hormonal changes, with the physical changes, with the emotional changes they must go through during a pregnancy, nor do you have to deal with the changes after one. I do not care if you have been pregnant or have kids either, as each person’s body is different and may not be able to handle a pregnancy, each person has their own experiences which may make bringing a baby into this world unwise. Those women need more support than ever as they are going through some seriously heavy shit when dealing with an abortion. Of all the women I know who have had one, while not one of them regret their decision, they also struggled with it, because of the way in which we treat those who have had them. We need to have a more open dialogue and a safe space for women to talk about it. You would be surprised at how many women have had an abortion.

Getting raped or violated in any way is hard enough without people trying to discredit you, without people trying bullying you, without people making it your fault. NO MEANS NO. Whether it is spoken or not, it doesn’t take a rocket scientists to know when someone does and doesn’t want you. If heaven forbid, a woman gets pregnant from an assault, you have no right to SHAME her into keeping that child. Living with the aftermath of an assault is traumatizing enough, but then to have a reminder every day for at least 9 months is nearly unbearable.

To be a woman is far more difficult than man realize as the pressures and expectations which are placed upon us, can be so overwhelming, as we continually have our bodies, our rights, our thoughts, feelings, and identities violated and stripped away.

We need to STOP SHAMING women who do not have kids or who do not want kids
We need to STOP SHAMING women who have had abortions
We need to STOP SHAMING women who are vocal about their sexuality.
We need to STOP SHAMING into thinking things like masturbation and sex are dirty.

We need to stop putting policies in place that take the power and control away from a woman as to what she can and cannot do with her own body, policies that tax women for something they cannot control, policies that give companies the right to deny women access to birth control, access to the care they need. We need to teach women that they are beautiful, magnificent, Goddesses who are powerful beyond words. We need to teach women that their sexuality, that connecting with the bodies as a whole, that embracing what makes them unique is a beautiful thing.

As Always,

My Beautiful Badass Unicorn Phoenix Goddesses I Hope You Have A Magical Day!

We are NOT Unworthy!

Our past, the relationship with our parents, with previous partners, with friends, with ourselves define so much of who we are, of who we become, it defines the ways in which we see ourselves, the ways in we speak about ourselves, the ways in which we perceive the world, the ways in which we interact with others, it becomes a part of our very soul. Many times these lead to deep seeded feelings of unworthiness, of being unlovable, of powerlessness, of fear, of so many terrible things. After time we start to believe these projections of the insecurities of others, the times we were abused, the times we were made to feel broken, made to feel invisible, made to feel like a burden, made to feel underserving, the times we were spoken down to, the times our power was stripped from us, all the horrible things we have endured become a part of our identity. We take all of that from relationship to relationship, from childhood to adulthood, from friendship to friendship, we allow it to define us, we lose sight of our value, we forget our magnificence, we dim our lights, we build up walls, we send the wrong messages to the Universe.

Feelings of unworthiness do not simply happen overnight, they are created from years of abuse, years of being told you are too much this or too much that, years of people tearing you down, years of people breaking you, years of harsh words, years of so much trauma, so much pain, so much turmoil. But, we have the POWER to change the effects of that, to break that cycle, to heal, to recover, and to discover our love for ourselves again. We have a choice to how long we allow that to control us. Life always presents us with choice and we as humans have this amazing thing called Free Will, which means at any point you can decide that enough is enough and choose to change. I am not saying this will be an easy journey, for undoing years of negativity, of anguish, of feeding yourself these lies will take time, it will require some serious work on your part, there will be set backs, and even when you have made progress, you will find moments where you still need to make improvements, but it can be done.

For me, it started with removing toxic people and toxic situations from my life, for I understood that as long as I kept myself in that sort of negative environment I would never truly be able to escape, I wouldn’t be able to grow, to change. Let me tell y’all that was not easy by any means, because it meant leaving my marriage, leaving my friends, leaving my family, leaving my entire life behind, it meant leaving what was left of my support system. In the weeks after I began cutting out the toxicity I could feel myself finally being able to breathe again, I could feel myself finding myself again, I could feel my fire starting to roar back to life, I could feel my power seeping back into me, this was of course little by little, but progress was still progress. As time progressed, I felt myself growing, I felt the vice grips that once suffocated me loosening, I could feel my inner goddess itching to be free. But I was SCARED, I was still so scared, to let her out, to step into my power, so I regressed back into my hole of self-loathing, of negative self-talk, and of self-sabotage. I wrapped myself up in a blanket of the lies I had been working so hard to forget, I allowed the demons I had fought so valiantly to regain their power positions, I took solace in the darkness and dimmed the light I had built, I allowed the weeds of self-doubt to take over my garden once more. I allowed myself to fall back into my old patterns, I let that vicious inner voice drone on and on for months, as I sank further into my castle of self-hatred, of feeling unworthy, of feeling sorry for myself.

You never truly realize how much all those words, all that you have endured affects you until it has taken over you, until you are sitting there alone at night bawling your eyes out, until you take time to stop and really listen the way in which you speak about yourself, until you pay attention to how you react when others compliment you, until you find yourself wanting so desperately to escape, but then running scared when you start to taste that freedom. But, I had to change, I knew it with every fiber of my being, I knew this was not who I truly was, I knew I had to face all the pain and really allow myself to work through it, I had to face the demons and slay them one by one once and for all, I had to stop speaking such venomous words about myself, I had to get comfortable with being myself, I had to and still have a lot of work to do.

With the toxic people and toxic situations behind me, with a newfound determination to face my fears head on, with a renewed vigor for true progress I delved into mantras, into journaling, into discovering myself. I trudged through the trenches of despair, hacked at the bushes of anger, and hiked the mountain of self-sabotage. When I arrived at the top, before me I saw all of my potential, all that I had forgotten, and all that I had yet to discover. Along the way I saw the strength I had gained from all I had endured, I found my voice amidst the screams and echoes of those who tried to silence me, I recited mantra after mantra until I started to believe them as reality, I realized all the amazing value I had to give to the world. I finally started to open my heart to love, to open myself up to the Goddess within, to be proud of who I was, of all that I had accomplished, of what I had to give.

For me, that realization hits me, a bit more each day, as I delve further into this journey of self-development, of self-love, of soul work. Each time I think I have worked through it, each time I feel like I have found my acceptance for myself, each time I think I have moved on, I have healed the wounds from my past, I am reminded that there is still work to be done. This is becoming especially evident in recent weeks, with all that I have been learning about people from my past, about myself, and with my current status in life. Each day I discover more stuff which I need to work through, I find areas where I still struggle with my worthiness. Yet, unlike before I refuse to run and hide, to make myself small, to fall back into my own patterns. Instead I choose to work through it, to deal with it, to change my mindset.

For the first time in my adult dating life and honestly, in my dating life as a whole, I have found and am with a partner who respects me, who sees all of me, who doesn’t judge me, who makes me feel worthy, who makes me feel beautiful, who makes me feel like what I say matters, who makes me feel intelligent, who makes me feel the way that so many others should have made me feel, but never did. I have a partner who sees the darkness within me, who experiences the mood swings that come with my battles with mental health diseases, who knows of the wounds of my past, and rather than shaming me for it all, rather than adding to my pain, rather than belittling me, he instead embraces it. He allows his light to shine on my darkness, he gives me understanding and patience when my mood fluctuates, and he caresses my wounds with words of comfort, of empathy, of healing. I am lucky, but I also know that the reason he came into my life when he did, is because I changed the way in which I view myself, the way in which I speak to and about myself, the message I send to the Universe.

This is of course not to say, that I do not still struggle with those feelings, but rather that I now have the tools and support to deal with them when they come up. The entire reason this post came about was because some of those insecurities, of those feelings of unworthiness came rearing their ugly heads during the end of our conversation last night. He did nothing wrong, but the wounds of our past are not so easily forgotten. They still plague me, as we get further into our relationship, as I adjust to actually being treated with respect in a relationship. To me, the ways in which he treats me are so foreign to me, I am unware of how to react, of how to handle it, I still find myself looking for something wrong, questioning everything, fearing getting to close. But, I do realize he is sincere in his affections for me, he truly does love and respect me, so instead of allowing them to win as I have so many times before, instead of silencing my feelings, I was honest with him and myself about how I was feeling and decided to write it all out, so that I could work through it, so that I could overcome it, so that it wouldn’t consume me. Now here we are at the end of the post and I feel in a much better place than I did when I first started this post. I realize these feelings will always be a part of me, but at the end of the day I know my value, my worth, and I honestly do love myself, and I take great comfort in knowing that I have someone who loves me too…

As Always,

My Beautiful Badass Unicorn Phoenix Goddesses I Hope You Have A Magical Day!