4 minute read
THIS IS ME...HEALING
By Claire O’Leary
It’s a lifelong thing you know, healing.
Like layers of an onion, I’m fond of sayingNot that I invented that phrase I adopted it after years of hearing it from friends, my therapist, everywhere it seemed.
A deep seething, burning feeling that would riseI’d push it downAnger wasn’t pretty
It wasn’t fit for a pretty little girl to show that emotionBut it was there neverthelessLike a bottomless pitNo, a volcano
It bubbled, gurgled, boiled until… It exploded.It was little stuff reallyThat shouldn’t have set me offThe toilet paper roll was on backwardsThe butter was hard…It wouldn’t spread easily on my toastAnd…it made my toast coldWho wanted to eat cold toast.
I’D BLOW
Like a volcano, I felt it in my stomachStill do as I write.
A hard ball of …What?TarBlack coalHot, yet coldIn the pit of my stomach
It stays there hot, burning, seethingWaiting for its’ moment.
I couldn’t say that!Couldn’t contradictCouldn’t share my opinionCouldn’t disagree
That wasn’t proper for a pretty little girlLike me
I should sitLegs crossedTidyHolding it inLike holding in your pee or more(No wonder I was constipated)
It was unnatural
I was a little girlMeant to run, play, ride bikesThrow snowballsEat mud cakesNot just sit on the couchLooking pretty
Hold it. Hold it. Hold it.
BLOW!
Don’t tell your motherShe’ll be …Sad?Mad?Disappointed?HeartbrokenWho was I to break my mother’s heart.
SILENCE
Besides, what would she do?Leave?
She had 6 kidsNo jobDidn’t speak English wellShe couldn’t take care of herselfLet alone 6 kidsWell 5 really the eldest was married now.Still what would she do?
What could she do?Besides, I still loved him right? Right?Did I?Sometimes yes.Other times, there was hate.Anger, No,
RAGE!
That seething, roiling pit of tar in my stomach.
I should be happy right?I had a husband who loved me. Did he?
A beautiful little girl.Who was sweet and lovely. Oooh when she hugged me it was the best feeling in the world.But when she clung to my leg while I was fixing dinnerWhen she needed me most
A SWAT!
It was just a little tap right?It was over her diaper so it didn’t hurt right?
Right!
But looking back…Did I hurt her?She was crying.She needed me.Needed my loveMy attentionAnd I was too busy…
Doing what I was taughtTaking care of my familyMy husband.
That was my job right?Get dinner on the table, Take care of everyone?
What about first hugging my child? What about me?
That came later.After the divorce. After the seething. After the cheating. Not his. Mine. After the explosion. After knowing.
This wasn’t love…
Oh, how long I’d been thinking about that. How long I’d been holding it in. Seething.Roiling.Waiting…
TO BLOW!
To realize that wasn’t love.
Love doesn’t include Wanting to share your wife with others Wanting to watch.
How many times had I said no! How many years?
Until I said yes. And it was over. Done.
Or was it?
Another yearMore silence. More seething. More cheating…
And then… the separation.
The fire. The devastation.The loss.The knowing.
The moment when he said he’d keep her, my daughter. She was only two.
I may have lost my temper I may have been ready for a break When I said…
Yes, take her with you while I think While I play.While I breathe. While I be…
Be what?Be who?
I didn’t know.I wouldn’t know for years to come.
But when he said he’d take her from me. I knew.
That would never happen.That I loved her more than life itself.That what he said was love,
Was NOT!
Someone who loves you doesn’t say that to youAfter you’ve stood outside your homeStanding for hours watching the flamesEngulf your homeYour clothesYour memoriesEverything you thought you loved.
You can’t take my daughter too!The anger, the rage roiled within.
I said nothing..
But I was strengthened by that rage Plotting PlanningAnd very shortly after.
WINNING!
I never looked backNever regretted my decision.
Sure, I missed my things I still now, over 50 years later, think about the losses at times
But with the strain, the stress, the pressure of not being me gone I became kinder
Mostly I became happierMore lovingNever another swat.
I learned how to love my childHow to express it.
And in time I learned to love myself.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Claire O’Leary is founder of The Empowered Voice (Traveling Art Exhibit & Symposium) and Voices Heard, the interactive e-Zine that empowers survivors to shatter the silence of their sexual abuse which helps them heal and help others heal through sharing their stories.
She lives in Donnelly, Idaho with her husband, and enjoys being a mother and grandmother. Claire’s a CSA (incest) survivor, an avid reader, meditates and dances her heart out any time she can.
She’s an advocate, speaker, and mentor.
