Voices Heard Winter 2024

INTERACTIVE E-ZINE | WINTER 24

Voices Heard

OUR STORIES

ONE LITTLE WORD, ONE BIG IMPACT

HOPE FOR A FUTURE TORNADO IN MY MIND, MY MOUTH FULL OF BEES

HER STORY DESERVES TO BE TOLD NIGHTSHADES

HEALING MY INNER CHILD, A BEAUTIFUL GIRL WHO LOVED TO CLIMB TREES

ADULTERATED: AN EXCERPT

THE BUTTERFLY, THE SNAKE, AND THE BEE

RISE: SHATTERED SILENCE TO STRENGTH

MY HEALING SPACE

THE LAST LEAF

WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU TELL YOUR RAW STORY?

Winter 2024

EDITORIAL TEAM

CLAIRE O’LEARY

Founder, Editor-in-Chief Creative Director

SHERYL BLAHNIK Copy Editor

CONTRIBUTORS

PHOTOGRAPHY

SHERYL BLAHNIK

JESSICA GREEN BROWN

DONNA BULATOWICZ

RACHEL GRANT

NUBIA DUVALL WILSON YODDEE

CLAIRE O’LEARY

TOMO SAITO

Our stories vary, But, the result for each of us is equally impactful…

The abuser had died long before, and I rarely thought of her…

Moons ago, I spoke of the bed and how it made me turn

No

BUILDING RESILIENCE

FROM THE EDITOR: OUR STORIES

Photo by Tomo Saito

Our stories vary, But the result for each of us is equally impactful.

This issue of Voices Heard is chock full of inspiring stories. Some will make you cry, some may make you chuckle and each one will remind you that we’re not alone.

Thank you for sharing your stories.

Donna Bulatowicz , a repeat contributer, shares the power of our words and how she used them to make changes in her life in One Little Word, One Big Impact Pg. 8. Her Story Deserves to be Told by our copy editor, Pg.12. Sheryl Blahnik is the story of friendship beyond bounds.

Nubia DuVall Wilson shares her journey through her poignant poem, NightShades , Pg. 14. Yoddee shares an excerpt from her book, Adulterated , a book written in the vernacular about a little girl who’s trauma we all know too well. Pg. 16. Jessica Green Brown shares her quest of thriving through adversity in Rise: Shattered Silence to Strength My Voice, My Truth, My Life, My Story, My Choice. Pg. 22. The Last Leaf, by none other than me, Claire O’Leary, is an allegory written as a poem describing the torment, secrecy and healing from abuse. Pg. 28. Rachel Grant, our regular

contributor, tells her story in Voices Heard at long last in, What happens when you tell your raw story? Pg. 30.

As always, the Resources section offers books for Adults, teens and young adults and kids as well as links to online resources for kids, parents, and adult survivors . Nubia’s book, The Survivors Club has been added to the resources section with a direct link as well.

Our theme for the spring issue is “Together We Heal.” Share your wisdom and your stories with me at Claire@ClaireOLeary.com.

View Past Issues of Voices Heard

The one and only printed issue of Voices Heard (thus far) is available for purchase for only $$30. This stunning issue of Voices Heard makes a lovely gift for another survivor or those associated with survivors. And allows me to continue with my mission of breaking the silence Check it out.

By Claire O’Leary

“ Our stories vary, but the result for each of us is equally impactful.

ONE LITTLE WORD, ONE BIG IMPACT.

By Donna Bulatowicz

“

The abuser had died long before, and I rarely thought of her. The times I did, I shoved the memories away quickly.

My healing journey began with vivid, lifelike dreams containing scents, sounds, colors, and sensations. I felt the cold, ancient, checkered linoleum beneath my feet.

I heard the buzzing of the florescent lights and the low, mellifluous sound of her voice trembling with emotion. I smelled the clean, floral scent of her perfume that she wore on rare occasions mixing with the old school smell of yellow chalk, pencil shavings, crayons, and dusty secrets.

There she was, sitting on her metal and wood teacher desk. The upper elementary teacher who molested me swung her feet and held out her arms, a hopeful look on her face. Her eyes filled with tears as she said, “My Donna, I’m so very sorry—beyond sorry. And I love you so deeply.” I felt stunned. Then I wanted out of the dream and away from her. I woke up abruptly, disoriented, with my heart pounding.

The abuser had died long before, and I rarely thought of her. The times I did, I shoved the

memories away quickly. I didn’t understand what she was doing in my dreams. I certainly hadn’t invited her in, nor did I want to think about her. Yet this dream had caused a crack in the dam holding back the memories.

Then I had more dreams of her. She always showed up the same way, though she looked more hesitant and sadder each time.

At one point, I told her she wasn’t allowed to touch me again. I also told her off for all she did to me all the abuse, retaliation, and echoing pain that screamed like a bean sídhe.

She listened with a bowed head and apologized. She no longer reached out to me, but she said the same things repeatedly— that she was sorry and that she loved me. She also kept calling me hers.

These dreams—along with various other synchronicities—showed me I needed additional healing

My word for 2022 was courage. I had

Photo by Getty Images

embodied that word earlier in the year by reporting discriminatory experiences instead of just excusing them. I also requested FMLA to deal with my long covid, which steadily grew worse. Now I needed to summon up the courage to face the fact that I had more recovery to do. Over three decades after she molested me, the impacts haunted me like uneasy ghosts.

I bravely told my closest friends and some family members that I was embarking on this journey. I had no idea what to expect; I was venturing into unknown territory. To help guide me along the way, I picked up various books, started therapy for healing sexual abuse, joined survivor groups online, and started learning more about the impacts of trauma and how to heal.

It took courage to order books about childhood sexual abuse. I worried about what others would think of me, and I felt uneasy about “admitting” that my teacher had molested me. I’d experienced negative reactions from the police, certain teachers, and others when I told on my teacher the following school year; I didn’t know whether I would face the same or similar negativity as an adult, though I had more power and social capital than I did as a child.

Two of the first books I read at the start of this healing journey were Healing Steps: A Gentle Path to Recovery for Survivors of Childhood Sexual Abuse by Sharyn Higdon

Jones and Leaving Darkness Behind: Recovery from Childhood Sexual Abuse by Elizabeth M. Altmaier. Both books gave me a starting point for this journey and showed me how much I didn’t know about the nature of trauma, the impacts of sexual abuse, and healing. (Links to both books are also in the Resources section) Due to my experiences with the child psychologist over three decades ago when I told on my teacher, I had thought healing was a linear path. I thought it would not take long. These books taught me that healing is neither linear nor quick. I needed to cultivate patience with and compassion for myself, something that I struggled with.

Therapy also helped me realize the challenges of the healing journey. I would need to integrate memories that I’d tried to bury. I would need to care for the wounded parts of myself, show love to my deepest, darkest memories, and re-process them (EMDR therapy) so that they no longer held the immediacy, terror, and oozing pain.

In one of my first searches for how to heal from childhood sexual abuse, I discovered Saprea’s website. Saprea provides healing resources for survivors, resources for parents, and much more. I learned they offer a retreat for women survivors; the only cost of the retreat to survivors is transportation to the pick-up location. They interviewed me and invited me to schedule my time at the retreat.

Saprea also provides free online survivor groups. I found one and joined, not knowing what to expect; I summoned up my courage to go to the group despite my fears. I found the group consistent, welcoming, and helpful. There is a set pattern that they all follow, which includes discussions about the previous session’s healing skill and the new healing skill for that session.

Saprea soon had a new queer and trans group, so I joined that one instead. The group I had been in was full of fabulous people, but I wanted to be with other people in my marginalized group; I’m a lesbian.

“ I would need to integrate memories that I’d tried to bury. I would need to care for the wounded parts of myself, show love to my deepest, darkest memories, and reprocess them ...

Photo by Getty Images

“

… I wrote about signs of grooming and shared how my teacher had groomed me. I learned that this helped some of my friends identify signs that someone was grooming a child at each of their schools, and they intervened.

Being in that group, I felt like I fully belonged and could be myself completely. This group has had a significant positive impact on my healing; healing happens in community rather than isolation at least for me. This group saw me, heard me, and validated me.

Toward the end of 2022, I summed up my experience with my one little word and—for the first time—posted on my social media that I am a survivor of childhood sexual abuse. I worried about how people would react. I mostly received support. I decided to post bits of my story occasionally to educate people.

For instance, I wrote about signs of grooming and shared how my teacher had groomed me. I learned that this helped some of my friends identify signs that someone was grooming a child at each of their schools, and they intervened.

My one little word had brought me so many ways to show courage in 2022, especially on this new healing journey. I decided to choose love for 2023, as that was an area in which I needed to grow. I showed love toward others easily but struggled to demonstrate love toward myself. Thus, one focus was on cultivating self-love. Love has always been part of my worldview, and I wanted to expand it and find more ways to show and celebrate love.

As in 2022, the way my one little word showed up throughout the year amazed

me. I didn’t expect such a strong lesson, in how love and grief coincide. I had known that from previous losses, but the death of my dad in February 2023 illuminated how entwined they are. His death unmoored me.

Instead of shoving grief aside, as I had done in the past, I let myself feel it. I showed love to myself for the grief I felt and remembered the fun, funny, loving, and even challenging times. One lesson reinforced through this journey with grief is that love is not bound by either time or consciousness. It is eternal and exponential.

Courage

and love helped me to do things I had never previously imagined myself doing. I told my story publicly, in written and spoken form, including interviews with StoryCorps.

View Donna’s Interviews with Story Corp.

Interview 1, Donna’s story

Interview 2, How we can help

I did trainings for teachers, and I’m revising and expanding them. Love leads me to do all I can to help other survivors and to try to prevent abuse. I move beyond my fears that I won’t be good enough, that I’ll mess up, etc., by focusing on my goal and by being compassionate and loving with myself when I inevitably make mistakes.

Love and courage helped me to reclaim hobbies that I used to delight in and that my abuser and her enablers shattered. I wrote the first draft of my first book and am working on the first draft of my second book. I started art journaling. I created beaded

Photo by Getty Images

ornaments again. Even one year ago, I hadn’t imagined that my one little word—love— would help me reclaim these pastimes and dreams that bring me joy.

My ability to demonstrate self-love was tested when I had a full hysterectomy due to Endometrial Interepithelial Neoplasia. I followed the doctor’s instructions. I let myself rest and sleep as much as my body needed. I accepted help, and I reached out when needed as well. It takes both courage and love to ask for help and to give myself what I need; for too long I have pretended not to need help and pushed my body to, and sometimes beyond its limits.

I have lovingly, compassionately, and gently released what no longer serves me. I’ve learned that healing is an act of love and courage, as well as the best gift I can give myself as a survivor. Through being loving to myself on this journey, I can acknowledge the progress I’ve made in this dance along the healing path and continue to advance. I have done exquisitely challenging healing work, and I’ve released some stored trauma.

Through Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprosessing (EMDR) Therapy, I have faced and processed some of the worst memories of the sexual abuse, which my therapist classifies as “extreme.” The memories I could barely stand to acknowledge have become ones I can face with immense compassion and love for little me. I have far fewer flashbacks than I did at the start of the journey, and I can manage the ones I have. I am able to accept how awful the abuse was, rather than denying the horrors.

An unanticipated side effect of learning more about the impacts of childhood trauma is that I have gained compassion for my abuser’s experiences (not her choices) as I learned explanations (not excuses) for much of her behavior. I know that she experienced severe child abuse and neglect, including sexual abuse. I learned how that can shape a child’s brain. I know that she had an extremely hard childhood; she grew up in a violent house, in a town known for violence. Although she bears no responsibility for the ways trauma altered her brain and nervous system, she bears full

responsibility for the choices she made to harm me and other little girls. Regardless of her experiences, she chose her actions.

As I developed more compassion and empathy for what she experienced in her life, I realized that I may eventually forgive her. It’s not a focus of my healing journey, as I am centering myself in this journey. But if it happens organically, I’m okay with it now. I’m also okay if it doesn’t happen. I am the star of my own healing journey, the dancer along the path. Love infuses my journey, as does courage.

Overall, I made tremendous growth by choosing love as my one little word for 2023, including in ways I never anticipated.

I can’t wait to see what my 2024 word— joy—brings. I know that this coming year will be one of enormous change. I am looking forward to seeing the ways courage, love, and joy entwine in 2024.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Dr. Donna Bulatowicz lives in the beautiful state of Montana. She studies and advocates for inclusive children’s literature as well as sexual abuse education and prevention. She recently completed her term as chair of the Charlotte Huck Book Award for Outstanding Fiction for Children.

You can reach Donna on her Facebook page, or email Donna.

“ I move beyond my fears that I won’t be good enough, that I’ll mess up, etc., by focusing on my goal and by being compassionate and loving with myself when I inevitably make mistakes.

HER STORY DESERVES TO BE TOLD

By Sheryl Blahnik

“

But she knew that this relationship wasn’t normal. She knew other girls didn’t have this kind of relationship with their dads.

She would be well over 100 today. She was a complicated, kind, adventurous, serious, special woman.

I met Tess through a mutual friend twentyfive years ago when Tess was about 80 and I was 40. She had the ram-rod straight bearing of a soldier, always ready for battle. She wore an invisible cloak of body armor that was difficult; nearly impossible to penetrate. Yet, there was a sadness, a darkness, always present in her eyes. I was a counselor but not for Tess. She was my friend. I wanted so badly to ask her about her past, to let her know I saw the pain that enveloped her and kept her from fully engaging in the world around her.

Over time, Tess shared a little of her life with me and with another friend. After Tess passed away at the age of 95 we pieced together the history of her pain.

It started at the age of three. Her mother’s new husband started violating her. She was much too young to know what to say;

let alone understand what was happening to her.

Over the years, as Tess went to school, she saw how other little girls were. She realized that she was unique and tried to tell her mother about the abuse. Her mother told her to stop making up stories. Her minister told her that she was making up stories.

So, she kept silent.

Her abuser told her that this was what happened in families and that he was preparing her for marriage. She admitted that she began to feel terribly guilty when she started to “enjoy” the feelings she had as she got older. But she knew that this relationship wasn’t normal. She knew other girls didn’t have this kind of relationship with their dads.

She was never allowed to have friends, never allowed to be with friends after school. She had to hurry home so her abuser could use her slight body for his ugly agenda.

As Tess grew up, at the age of sixteen, she left home for good. She didn’t look back.

Photo by Getty Images

Tess eventually met a kind-hearted man, a bit older than her. He proposed to her, and Tess shared her story with him. She explained to him that she couldn’t have a typical marriage with physical love, but he was willing to give her this because he had fallen in love with her.

They shared many years of life together before he passed away. They never had children but cared for a niece and nephew who needed a family to love them.

Tess unburdened herself after many years by sharing her story of pain, love, growth and shame.

My friend and I embraced her and reassured her that she was loved and that we cherished her friendship. Her story was safe with us. For ten years, her story has been silent. But it’s time to open the doors and windows to air out the cobwebs of pain that started with a little three year old, and went to the grave with her.

Her story needs to be told.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sheryl Blahnik was a counselor and spent thirty-two years working with college students as a counselor and Dean of students. She spent considerable time working with students who experienced sexual abuse and trauma, in addition to all of the other mental health issues that students needed support to manage. Sheryl worked with a number of women with eating disorders and found that many of these young women were survivors of sexual abuse.

Sheryl is retired and living in sunny Arizona. She is surrounded by light and love! She is committed to editing “Voices Heard”. Sheryl is an artist and loves to create paintings that inspire and engage others.

“ She explained to him that she couldn’t have a typical marriage with physical love...

NIGHTSHADES

Moons ago, I spoke of the bed and how it made me turn— my head in my hand and heart, almost dead, divided in the hardened cushions, burned. The hate and anger transported by dread. But now I fear the home is next, it’s not my place of usual rest—assured the solace in wretched jest, the light shines out, a glow from squares that rarely show the truth behind the know.

Home is neither wood nor brick nor steel, not floors filled with plight. No. It’s bones and blood and might, safety that flows from within at night.

Engulfed by loving self to heal the rot in frames that mimic mirrors—with murmurs, reflecting the journey I’ve overcome, but not for naught! Escape, as shattered pieces cascade to ground with fervor. They crunch and bunch under pounds of flesh and toes, upon a stone I rest, and pluck them off, one by one. Red scars remain that leave a trail like brail—a story shows, as dawn returns, I save my SELF below the nurturing sun.

Reunited with the roaring fury of life!

Stripping centuries of struggle and strife, ending the cycle of unresolved trauma, all from deciding to become a mama.

Holding my bloodline to my bosom… I wrapped us in cloak.

They traced my scabs, a patchwork quilt of lessons, now our lore. Generational blindness to sexual abuse carved muffled sounds in my skin.

Shades recede, light shines as the universe says, “You’ve saved your kin.”

By Nubia DuVall Wilson

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Nubia DuVall Wilson is a published poet and author, TV/film producer and advocate for survivors of sexual abuse. In May 2018, she published her second book, The Survivors Club, a supernatural novella inspired by her journey to heal as a survivor of childhood sibling sexual abuse. The novella is the inspiration behind a TV pilot currently being pitched to be optioned through her TV and film production company Starfury Productions. When she is not managing the day-to-day operations of her lifestyle-focused public relations and marketing firm, Cielo Consulting, She works to break through the silence around the high prevalence of child sexual abuse in the United States—especially among women of color—and the long-term effects of abuse into adulthood. Nubia graduated from Barnard College, Columbia University, with a degree in English and a minor in Religion. She lives in New Jersey with her family. Learn more at nubiaduvall.com and on IG and TikTok

Together We Heal.

Voices Heard the interactive e-Zine that empowers you to Shatter Your Silence.

Now accepting submissions for the Spring, 2024 issue.

The Spring theme is “ Together We Heal .” Submissions requested by April 15th.

Email Claire@ClaireOLeary.com with your story and bio in a Word document. Please include bio photo, social media links, website, books or artwork you’ve created as well. Attach high resolution photos, artwork or videos separately.

www.empoweredvoicetravelingexhibit.com/submit/

ADULTERATED AN EXCERPT

By Yoddee

INTRODUCTION

“

No one ever spoke to how a bad-thing can instantly call into memory ALL the other Bad Things that ever Happened to you!

Hi, I’m a big-body nobody from Queens by way of Harlem. ‘Just one of the ones that was rarely protected, respected, yea, it’s complicated. As unfortunately common child-molestation is, it will never wane from being a complicated, complex subject-matter, never! Why? Because sane minds will never understand adults that prey on children for Adult Activities!

Malcolm X is quoted as having said that the least protected, and the least respected person in America is the Black Woman. He passed away in 1965, before I was born. While looking at that episode of Like It Is with Gil Noble, I wept for Black Woman…the lengthy suffrage. After I got violated then discovered [it] happened to other children, I wondered if an addendum to Malcolm X’s assessment were in order? The least protected, least respected people in America are Black children! No, it’s not a competition in traumatic events! What would be the sick prize in that? Most children can barely fight back other kids, let alone, adults! This physical disadvantage, when it comes to predators, makes them the least protected, least respected.

This is a mini-memoir: a recollection about the worse night of my young life! A crime that changed my character drastically from what it was.

‘Told

in the vernacular.’

Photo by Getty Images

ONE: SPANISH HARLEM 1977

‘Smelled the liquor before I felt the touch— he shook me awake! “Your mother wants me to wax the floors, you gotta sleep in our room, so I can do your room. By the time you wake up your floors should be dry.” Is about what [he] said (to me) in the summer of 1977.

At eight years old, I barely talked-back to other kids, let alone adults. In my era, talking-back or questioning adults was a nono. A big no-no! Moreover, I barely spoke at all; was mostly mute from toddler-hood to age eight!

This crime got me talking—Talking!

This Crime changed me in so many ways! Some good, some not so good!

Back to the moment of a sleeping child…

…groggy, I really didn’t give it a second thought, followed orders, got up, walked to the master-bedroom, got in the bed, fell back to sleep…

‘Eyes Jolt Open!!! Fingers… ‘Entered my virginal hole!

‘Back turned to him!

Instantly I knew [IT] was Wrong!!!

I was never taught about the birds & the bees! ‘Not expressively taught.

Heard some kids in school speak on it—what they learned from their parent(s)/or some older person in their family!

Thankful for that information—cause that, along with what I learned in church, I knew [IT] was/is Wrong!

Horrifically WRONG!!!

IT felt WRONG!!! HORRIBLY WRONG!

Some church-members said: Good things are proof of God . And Bad Things are proof of the DVL!

No one ever spoke to how a bad-thing can instantly call into memory ALL the other Bad Things that ever Happened to you!

Point-in-Case:

At five-years-old I woke up from a nap to go to the bathroom… the door was ajar, pushed it open. ‘Noticed a male seated inside… he was sitting on top of the commode. ‘Wasn’t sure if he was actually using the toilet or just using it as a seat. I didn’t talk really, so couldn’t cough-up the words “excuse me,” but a gasp emoted as I tried to back out, but he PULLED my arm! Very strongly! I Yanked back, as strong as I could muster—for a skinny five-year-old! I was thin as a rail when I was a little girl. No way “I” could overpower that slim, yet, muscular male! He looked to be about twenty years old.

He didn’t speak, but he did chuckle as he released my arm!

Maybe he found mini-mutiny amusing!

I ran back to my Mom’s room! Locked her bedroom door and went under the bed to hide!

“ This crime got me talking Talking! This Crime changed me in so many ways! Some good, some not so good!

Nandi age 5 or 6 with mom at the apartment where the Mad-Dog look-a-like was met.

“

At five-years old, only thoughts that came to mind were my favorite TV shows and my favorite candy, snacks. Touching anyone’s body parts was never a thought, let alone a desire!

For some fearful reason, my need to pee vanished!

While under her bed I braced myself… wondering if he was going to finish-up in the bathroom and kick her door in to find me?

I began to pray to God! Prayed HE would send my Mommy home! Send somebody back to the house! My brother, aunts, someone sane to rescue me!

From what I could see, he resembled ‘MadDog ’, a character that played on episodes of Good Times. A very popular TV program of that time. He looked too young to have been a date of my Mom’s; too old to be a friend of my brother’s; maybe he was there for one of my aunt’s… I wasn’t sure. I don’t recall ever seeing him again, after that.

Yes, this ill-memory came to mind while in my Mom’s bed w/her then-husband’s finger in my…!

The brain connected the two incidents +, instantly! My brain did, anyway!

This ill-recall flashed mentally a lot quicker than [it] did for me to type [it]!

A follow-up passing thought: ‘Still fiveyears-old, another older male, not as old as Mad-Dog looked, but older than me! He proposed that I chase him, and if I caught him, I could touch his butt. Then he’d chase me, if he caught me, he gets to touch my butt Huh??

I shook my head NO!!! I didn’t talk, but I knew the difference between Yes and No! And that proposition was a definite NO!!! He walked away! Thank God!

At five-years old, only thoughts that came to mind were my favorite TV shows and my favorite candy, snacks. Touching anyone’s body parts was never a thought, let alone a desire! Such an idea depressed me! No, I didn’t tattle to my Mom; suppose I was so grateful he walked away versus yanking

my arm like the Mad-Dog look-alike did! Moreover, urban kids learn early that tattletellers are labeled trouble-makers, thus not liked. Tattling isn’t dealt with as seriously as ‘Snitchin’ is in tha streets, but again, tattlers aren’t liked. I could barely talk then, just the though t of having to do so made my little heart race.

So, if I could avoid it, I did.

I never wanted to make waves… back then, it was said: Kids are to be seen not heard I took this directive to heart and obeyed. I barely wanted to be seen this could be a subconscious reason I stayed skinny during our Harlem years. I got yelled at for holding food in my mouth—junk food, candy, I ate, home-cooked meals? I tended to pick over, not want. And my Mom can cook, so could her sisters. I didn’t become a foodie till we moved to Queens. I digress. Mommy took me to speech-specialists to find out why I wasn’t talking… they examined me, then concluded that I was fine. I simply didn’t want to talk.

One doctor told my Mom “When she’s ready to speak, she will. Enjoy the quiet years.” Mommy thought he was a tad sarcastic, yet felt relieved that I was okay, physically, larynx ‘n all.

I survived summer camp, far away from home, upstate New York. As Mommy helped me packed for that, she repeated “Don’t let anyone touch your hair or your privacy.” At six-yearsold, I had some idea of what the latter meant, but not a full comprehension. She and other elders in the neighborhood would warn kids of Stranger-Danger! To my young mind, that meant All Dangers were ‘Strange ’ and off in some distant far away land!

Nope, these sick strange incidents happened locally, right in N-Y-C! In my home, no less!!!

They were for damn sure strange but not issued by strangers!

Well, except for the Mad-Dog look-a-like in our bathroom. Just because I didn’t

recognize him, doesn’t mean one of my family members didn’t… if not, how did he enter our apartment?

Rhetorical; I know, you, the reader, doesn’t have an answer for that.

I had just gotten baptized at seven years old. I somehow thought that getting baptized would cleanse me and protect me from any future violations. WRONG!

‘Camping with The Girl Scouts when I was a Brownie, more woods! ‘Survived that!

At summer camp, I went in the woods alone too, in search of berries and a quiet place to read—survived that!

I didn’t have the wisdom to hold the fear that That was a no-no… to walk off from the counselors, peers and the main campsite in search of solace and wild berries! Most children are fearless! ‘As an adult, I’d never do that! ‘Done watched too many newsshows: Cold Case Files ‘n such! I know not to! Grateful for those moments in nature in my youth, yet… green in the greens!

I couldn’t believe I was safe that far away from home, but wasn’t safe at home! ☹

I survived the recent Blackout!

The Blackout of 1977 took on a whole new perspective for me! ‘Compared to an adult digit in an eight-year-old hole , the Blackout felt a lot less scary!

Years: five, six, seven, eight… quite the harrowing hurtful moments for a young mind, body and soul!

‘Five, six, seven, eight, who do we appreciate? The Sane Gods!

Early on, I knew [this] was insane!!! I knew [It] wasn’t of God!

Where was my Mother at the time?

The same place she was at when the MadDog look-alike Yanked Me ! Work .

Next thoughts… Mommies shouldn’t have to work—they should be home protecting their children!

I thought of things I overheard my Mom say over the phone to some of her gal-pals: How she met this person… he rescued her! Yes, well that’s how he won her heart. They initially met in a Harlem number-hole Well, not exactly the number-hole, that was in the rear of a store. Mommy entered the store to make a regular purchase. When he came from the back to process her order, she playfully asked him where was he?

He explained… then asked her if she wanted to play.

She told him that she didn’t gamble.

‘Somehow, he talked her into giving it a try.

Mommy said she played a dollar—and regretted it soon as she did; when he told her she could have played fifty-cents. Mommy typically liked practical purchases and loved a bargain.

When she returned that next day to see if she won, she found out she didn’t.

Perturbed, she demanded her dollar back!

He relented, gave her a dollar, but told her to never play again—that that’s not how gambling goes.

They exchanged phone numbers, but Mommy swore she never intended on using it. Till one night she and a friend found themselves out-of-town—on foot! Some kats drove them up there (after a Harlem house-party) under the lure of going to an after-party. The ladies assumed that the after-party was also in Harlem—not many miles away, upstate! As these kats pulled in to the rural-looking motel’s parking lot, their energy shifted from hospitable to hostile. [It] matched The Scene of that area…very grim. The ladies demanded to be driven back to Harlem!

“ Years: five, six, seven, eight … quite the harrowing hurtful moments for a young mind, body and soul!

“

I refused to turn-over and ‘participate’! I can fake sleep, but can’t fake That!

The men refused, saying they were tired.

Then they told the ladies the room number adding that they’d have to get out of the car eventually.

The two men got out of the long car, took the car key, and casually walked in the motel…

The ladies sat in the back of the car near panic!

But they didn’t want to cry, or scream—felt they didn’t have the luxury for all of That!

They needed to be calm, level-headed, to think on their next move.

‘Cause what they did know? They weren’t about to follow those men in to that motel room! God or Devil only knew what awaited them in there!

Once quietly out of the car, the ladies walked… and walked… found a diner, asked for their pay-phone; there is where Mommy called who would become her second husband, and the first one to introduce me to my privacy, uninvited! The one that drove up there to rescue her and her friend from rural parts unknown! Why wouldn’t she think he was a great guy?

Why wouldn’t she say yes when he proposed?

I was happy he rescued her, but now sad, cause… who was going to rescue me from him??

My older brother stayed outside a l o t! When Mommy dated someone, he really stayed away! He didn’t like her dates! In short, medium or long, he wasn’t around (either) to protect or rescue me in that sick moment! I’m eight, so he’s fifteen, old enough, tall enough to pose a challenge for Mommy’s second husband!

Had he been present, 2ndHusband may not have even attempted such!

To those that like to blame the victim , even under-aged victims: No, I wasn’t up in his face, or giving him attention via begging for money, or anything; I never sat in his lap! I didn’t play most adults close, let alone men!

I didn’t play anyone close, really.

Aloof then, aloof now.

I thought of my Mom’s beauty, & how his drunk-dirty-digit explored my virginal under-aged innards…

Mommy was beautiful! Exquisite angelic beauty!

Her grown gal-pals, also beautiful in their own right! Harlem in the 1970s were filled with many lovely ladies! I’m talking many Willonas and Thelmas walking around Harlem …

What on earth did [he] see in a skinny, hipless, bosom-less eight-year-old??

Again, I knew [this] was/iS a crime and not of God! [It’s] psychotic!

My body fell numb…

…I wanted God to take me away!

I just wanted to BOLT from the house and run to a neighbor’s house! Anyone sane will do!

‘On my side feigning sleep… at some point he was pulling on my shoulder, to turn me on my back?

Then what?? WHAT??!

DEARGOD, NOOOO!

I held on to the railing under the box-spring for DEARLIFE!!!!

I refused to turn-over and ‘ participate’! I can fake sleep, but can’t fake That!

I heard a key turn… MOMMY!

He jumped up outta bed!

I left that bed and room too!

I went to the bathroom to cry and clean!

Numbness seemed to dissipate as soon as the silent tears fell…

I heard Mommy’s voice “Why is the chain on?

Why would you put the chain on when I’m out?” She was speaking through the chained ajar’ed door to her husband.

‘Supposed it took him a minute to put some pants on.

He ran to open the door for her “Sorry about that, baby. I must-a chained it out of habit. And fell asleep.” He lied in explanation as he let her in.

Liar! ‘Were my thought s in the bathroom.

“Did you do the floors?” I heard her ask him. He didn’t lie about that. ‘Were my thoughts, still in the bathroom.

“Yea, not sure if they’re all dry now, though.” His voice sounded nervous, off.

She couldn’t tell something was amiss?

Maybe she dismissed it to his love for the bottle (booze).

“Who’s in the bathroom? ” She either asked him, or asked whomever was in the bathroom; her voice’s trajectory seemed to lob near the loo’s door.

“Who else lives here?” He first answered her question with a question. Then answered “Your daughter.”

“Thank God I’m not your daughter.” Were my thoughts, still in the loo.

“What is she still doing up at this hour?” Mommy asked, before he could answer she added “It’s after one a.m.”

“I supposed she had to use the bathroom,” he responded very matter-of-factly.

“But at this hour? ” Ma repeated. “Nandi, are you okay?” Ma called out to me.

I didn’t have the life-force necessary to speak up, so I couldn’t answer her right then and there.

I then heard him remind her “You know, she’s quiet. And you know it’s natural to use the bathroom.”

How dare the offender answer for the offended?

I felt nauseous and vomited!

“Nandi !” Mommy called out!

“Will you let that child have peace in the bathroom! ” He scolded my Mom!

The nerve! He wouldn’t let me have peace-in-purity! ☹

He wouldn’t let me have peace while sleeping, but demanded my Mom let me have peace while vomiting??

Once I cleaned myself up and cleaned the bathroom after myself, I exited…and went right to my room!

I heard Mommy ask again if I was okay as she passed me by in the hall to use the bathroom, herself.

I nodded okay.

I didn’t have a lock on my bedroom door but I did have a lock on the sleeping-bag I used on Girl Scout trips. I would swaddle myself in that under lock and key from there on out!

Would that pose as a good deterrent to dirty-digits? Find out in chapter two.

[Nandi: Chapter 2 will come after I peruse the feedback from part 1] Send comments or request a copy of her book directly to Nandi

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Nandi was born in Harlem, New York in the late 60s. Attended (public) elementary school, there; and continued in that scholastic lane later in Queens.

She went to high-school in Manhattan, to study Graphic Communications Arts (Printing), where she majored in Journalism and Photography. Felix & Oscar inspired. :)

#TheOddCouple

She also attended Community College in Bayside, NY in the early 90s. whre she soon married and became a Mom.

In the 90s she also pursued an acting and writing career; off-broadway plays, auditions, extra-work... It was fun!

She later returned to college in her 40s, to major in Legal Studies. She wanted to work with Barry Sheck’s Innocence Project.

She was told via many spiritual readings she’s a Heyoka Empath … among other adjectives. [A Heyoka is a very powerful healer and empath that feels the emotions and energy of others inside their body. The Heyoka is perhaps the most powerful Holy Man or Medicine Man as s/he has the natural ability to help heal physical afflictions, emotional issues, and or simply bad moods.]

Now, a retired granny, yet … still seeking to get her written works published … S.O.S.!

Donations for Nandi’s publishing goals can be DM’ed to Nandi on her IG: Nunde333 Gratitude.

RISE: SHATTERED SILENCE TO STRENGTH

MY VOICE, MY TRUTH, MY LIFE, MY STORY, MY CHOICE

By: Jessica Green Brown

“

My dad would tell me not to cry because it didn’t hurt when he would beat me.

Jessica as a child.

“With the hell I’ve lived, nothing could stop me from chasing my dreams. Give me hell, I’ll rise to the challenge. I may fall, but I’ll always get back up and keep fighting. I will RISE. I am insatiable fire. I not only survived my past, but I overcame it. If I can, you can too, and do even more. You are not alone.”

My name is Jessica. I was born in Huntington, West Virginia, with two bottom teeth and I had a dental visit the day I was born. I won a coloring contest when I was two years old. By the time I was in first grade, I was doing my own homework

for school without supervision or help despite the abusive circus around me. My mom was a state employee and my dad was honorably discharged from the Navy.

I endured severe child sexual, physical and emotional abuse, domestic violence

and complex trauma at the hands of my biological father and older brother. I have been raped, beaten, silenced, and abused in about every way possible time and again by men. I was isolated and was not permitted to have friends, which was strictly enforced by whatever means necessary. My only friends were cats.

A radio played in the basement constantly so the neighbors couldn’t hear the screams. My dad would tell me not to cry because it didn’t hurt when he would beat me. There were constant battles with the neighbors where my dad would pull guns on the neighbors if they turned around in our driveway, which was at the end of a dead-end street.

When I was four years old my mom ended up pregnant again and my dad didn’t want anymore kids, so he kicked my mom so hard in the stomach my baby brother was born full term with water on his brain dead. I only remember how devastated I was that I wasn’t getting a baby brother at 4 years old and didn’t find out what happened until many years later. My dad murdered my little brother and got away with it.

The sexual abuse was so commonplace in our household that I didn’t even realize until fourth grade that something was wrong. It was just the way it was and the only thing I knew.

Breaking the forced silence I lived in and attempting to get help when I was 10 years old nearly cost me my life, but I knew it had to stop and my dad was dangerous not only to me, but everyone.

I initially reported the abuse to the CAP program at school when I was 9 years old. About six months later, I came home from school knowing nothing and my dad met me at the door with his 44-magnum, pacing the floors. I hid in the closet, which my mom

coaxed me out of when she came home from work prior to Child Protective Services (CPS) arriving. When the CPS worker arrived, I reiterated the allegations of sexual abuse despite being threatened with a gun by my dad. She watched him run at me while she was there and she left me there with him, telling him he had to leave. CPS never came back. Three months later my house burned down and the day it burned my dad picked me up from the same school I’d reported him. My mom came in, signed me out, while he was waiting in the car. I was in hell. I was severely beaten numerous times for telling on my dad and “trying to get him into trouble ” as he called it.

The neighbors knew the situation but refused to get involved. They were afraid of my dad. My family knew about the situation too. They refused to get involved. They told me to tell the school. Even my mom fed my dad after CPS came and she knew what was going on. I saw it and the neighbors told me he was still there. I was on my own. With everything going on, I failed World History in school, but I learned how to write poetry in 5th grade and was runner up in the school spelling bee.

In the end, it took me changing counties, moving to a new house, going to a new school, telling everyone at school what was going on amongst the other kids, and then one day a police officer showed up at the school. I reiterated my allegations yet again. That’s the day I was removed from my home thanks to a police officer on a wild goose chase and a very kind, concerned 5th grade teacher who happened to take an interest in me. They were heroes to me at 10 years old. CPS was going to take me to get clothes that day until I told them my dad would “blow them away” to get to me and I refused to go into the house.

When I was placed in kinship care, my dad knew where I was, and began stalking me. My half-brother also picked up where my dad left off because he blamed me for the

“

Until the day he died in 2020, my halfbrother made it his life’s mission to punish me for what my dad did to him

“

My second foster mom went above and beyond. She was there to comfort my mom when I was dying in the hospital, from a suicide attempt…

things that my dad did to him. He referred to me as “ Little Orville ”. Until the day he died in 2020, my half-brother made it his life’s mission to punish me for what my dad did to him, everything from beating me with a belt in kinship care and stealing my identity in college to trying to kill me with a butcher knife on Thanksgiving Day when I was 17 years old.

I tried to stay with my grandmother at first in kinship care. My dad showed up on my grandmother’s doorstep trying to get to me.

me first. I was safer alone, on my own, away from my family in the woods and in nature where I ran. I had peace where nobody hurt me there. It was like a vacation.

At 11, after I returned to live with my mom, my dad would frequently show up and try to break down the back door to get to us. My mom would panic and freeze. I had to call the police, but every time, by the time they showed up, he was long gone. My mom had a domestic violence petition against him that was supposed to protect us, but what

My grandmother met him at her front door with a shotgun and told him she would blow his brains all over the sidewalk if he didn’t leave. She was very sick with breast cancer and also couldn’t handle the way I acted out in my sleep from the trauma I had experienced, like grinding my teeth and fighting in my sleep, so I wasn’t able to stay with her long. She lived next door to my aunt and uncle, and was sent to stay there.

I was never asked why I was running away. My aunt’s solution was to tie me up with a belt to one of her dresses. I wriggled loose from it and ran away again. When that attempt failed my uncle took a belt to me to try to stop me for running away. It didn’t work. In kinship care, my philosophy was if no one knew where I was, my dad couldn’t find me, and my half-brother couldn’t beat me with a belt because he’d have to find

were we supposed to do with that? Throw it at him when he came after us?

I stood up to my dad at a theme park when he showed up on a motorcycle, while stalking my mom, brother, and myself.

My mom and brother were running away scared, but I walked right up to him and told him to leave us the hell alone because he was not supposed to be anywhere around us. He turned around and left.

I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and post-traumatic stress disorder at age 11 after being placed in my first foster home. My foster mom thought I was going to run away, so she grabbed me, dragged me into her house. When I fought back I ended up in full

IStock image by ysbrandcosijn

restraint. Afterwards, I refused to stay in her home and was removed the next morning. I was moved to my second foster home which ended when I was returned home to my biological mother at age 12.

My second foster mom went above and beyond. She was there to comfort my mom when I was dying in the hospital from a suicide attempt after CPS sent me home After my mom’s boyfriend severely beat me with my mom standing right there and doing nothing, I didn’t feel worthy of even sleeping in a bed, so I overdosed on a half a bottle of sleeping medication and slept in my closet. My mom woke up to me seizing in the closet. My second foster mom had heard the call on the scanner and showed up just in case it was me [it was]. My mom’s boyfriend at the time told my mom she should let me die. He left the hospital and cheated on her that night.

I’d heard that they aren’t permitted to hit you in state’s custody, so when I was 13, I refused to go back home to live with my mom and was returned to state’s custody. The judge assigned to my youth services case told my mom it was the worst case of abuse he’d ever seen. That’s when I met my CASA worker, Bob. I was a firecracker, and my first thoughts were “oh no, not another pervert ” when I met him.

Through his advocacy and relentless efforts, he changed my view of men, was instrumental through his work in me getting justice and showed me by example that not all men are perverts.

While I was never able to return to my second foster home due to no beds being available, I remained connected and in contact with my second set of foster parents. I was placed in three more foster homes after that.

Following a traumatic and triggering experience in my third foster home, I was personally just done with foster care. My fourth foster home was a temporary placement and my fifth foster home I literally

refused to go into their home until they removed me. After jumping out of a social worker’s moving vehicle and running away in the middle of nowhere when I was 13, I was placed in a lock-down treatment facility.

When I was 14, I went to Golden Girl Group Home where I spent the next four and a half years. During which time my dad was caught after eluding justice for nearly five years.

I testified against my dad in court at age 15 . He was sentenced to 45-105 years without the possibility of parole because his psychological exam found him to be an ingrained pedophile incapable of rehabilitation which were the terms of any parole.

He would never be eligible for parole. His sentence was to be served consecutively not concurrently. He was only charged for the sexual abuse of my half-brother and myself, but not for anything else he did. My dad died in prison of COVID and underlying health conditions in November 2020 in Mount Olive Penitentiary. Prior to his death, we conversed via letters for a couple of years. I got my closure on the situation and was able to come to terms with it. I was able to forgive him for what he did, but he was where he belonged.

Despite missing most of middle school due to being moved around so much in state’s custody, I graduated high school with high honors on time and had 13 poems published by the time I turned 18. I was never adopted. At around 17 years old, I was placed in the permanent legal and physical custody of Golden Girl Group Home. Golden Girl Group Home is my childhood home and the first and only safety and stability I knew in my childhood.

I almost chose not to go to college because I didn’t think I was ready, but the group home enrolled me anyway since I started college as a senior in high school with English 101. I attended Marshall University and started with remedial classes in math. Despite making a C in my introduction to

“ Despite missing most of middle school due to being moved around so much in state’s custody, I graduated high school with high honors on time and had 13 poems published by the time I turned 18.

“ I inspire them through sharing my life story, philanthropy, writing, public speaking, and advocacy.

social work course, I declared social work my major. I made straight A’s through the core social work curriculum courses and graduated with honors, a 3.34 overall GPA, with my bachelor’s degree in social work. My senior thesis of over 400 pages on the correlation between domestic violence, child abuse and animal abuse, was sent to the president of Marshall University.

After I graduated from Marshall, I obtained my license to practice social work through the Council on Social Work Education examination process and worked for CPS for almost a year following graduation from college.

I also volunteered for the Team for West Virginia Children for two years while I was in college as a Court Appointed Special Advocate, (CASA), for two years while I was in college, advocating for abused and neglected children in court. I ended up in a domestically violent relationship where I was blackmailed and repeatedly raped, which not only re-traumatized me, but resulted in having to stop volunteering as a CASA.

I didn’t have medical insurance in college and had no way to get my medication, so I went without it. Due to long term lack of medication and re-traumatization from the domestically violent relationship I was in, I got sick from the disability I was born with, which is bipolar disorder, and ended up catatonic and in and out of consciousness. My body broke down simultaneously and certain areas of my skin broke out severely in cystic acne. I was legally disabled. It took many years for doctors to find the right combination of medication to treat my condition. Now I am on low doses of maintenance medications and am medication dependent to remain conscious.

When my dad died in prison and was cremated, my half-sister hid our dad’s ashes so traditional closure was prevented. To get my closure I had to get creative. My mission is to use my negative situation and flip it into a positive that will help other people.

I also want to recognize the hearts and hands who helped me become who I am too. That’s my way of giving back after the opportunity that was given to me by being helped. Paying it forward.

Despite being legally disabled, I became a licensed BSW social worker with a preapprenticeship manufacturing certification. I have a deep passion for helping empower and inspire people to thrive, overcome and be resilient, despite their adversity.

I inspire them through sharing my life story, philanthropy, writing, public speaking, and advocacy.

If my story helps even one person, it served a purpose, and everything I went through is worth it to me.

I want to empower, inspire, and encourage people to not only survive but overcome and thrive despite the adversity they face and chase their dreams, using my life story as an example of what can be done and more. It’s easy to tear someone down, it’s harder to build someone up, but much more rewarding.

The best way I have found to overcome and thrive, despite adversity, is to flip a negative situation into a positive one and use it to help others, which enables you to RISE above the situation.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jessica Green Brown is a licensed BSW social worker with a pre-apprenticeship in manufacturing certification. She has a deep passion for helping empower and inspire people to thrive, overcome and be resilient despite their adversity through sharing her life story, philanthropy, writing, public speaking, and advocacy. She has been a featured guest speaker in podcasts, videos, blog series, and radio shows shared and broadcast globally. She’s a humanitarian, artist, published poet, and author who has been quoted by Resilience: Advocates for Ending Violence and Foster Kids United. She was Volunteer of the Year for SCSA in 2021. In 2022, she completed the Women Igniting Change Program; a purposedriven organization that unleashes the untapped potential and contributions of women around the world..

She currently volunteers for Foster Kids United and serves as a member of the board of the nonprofit I Believe You. She is working on writing an autobiography, studying Spanish, French, and for the law school admission test.

I watch the leaves

Fall off the tree

One by one

Two by two

Five by five

The wind shifts

Gentle yet enough

Suddenly it shakes them loose

They’re swirling round and round

Like my thoughts

When I allow myself to remember

When I allow myself to remember how much I don’t remember

How much I don’t want to remember

Yet feel I should Remember…

That remembering Would let things loose

Like the last leaves

Clinging to the tree

Not wanting to let go

Not wanting to blow away

To wither and die

And then the tree stands naked and alone

Bereft of thought

Bereft of sound

Bereft of the sense of movement –

The leaves soft and sensual

Gently tickling her branches

As the breeze was gentle on a warm day

There were many branches

As she had lived a long life

Explored many directions with her roots

THE LAST LEAF

She was still strong And would see another spring

But first she knew she would feel the cold of winter

As she once again allowed the bitter winds of winter To chill her to the bone

And the last leaf –Would fly off in a frenzy the last memory would be spoken

Shared with few at first Then, shared with many

All would listen And support her through the gales of winter

The saving grace

The soft gentle warmth of the snow falling gently Covering her boughs like a soft skin

Protecting it from the Chill of the north wind

She stood naked and alone Bereft of leaves – save one

The leaf clung to it’s bough Though shaking

In the chill on the north wind

Not yet ready to let go.

Not ready to reveal it’s last secret The branch too Holding tightly

For it feared what would happen When the last secret was revealed

It wasn’t something she’d done It was something she heard Something she felt?

By Claire O’Leary

While she was watching from above

Something that just wouldn’t leave her

That would come back to remind her

That she was weak and alone

But wait…

She stood in defiance

Even through the worst of it

So what then did she need to keep secret?

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 survivor, an avid reader, meditates and dances her heart out any time she can.

She’s an advocate, speaker, and mentor.

BUILDING RESILIENCE

WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU TELL YOUR RAW STORY?

By Rachel Grant

One of the things I often tell my clients is that your story is a layered and beautiful thing. It is yours to tell, when and how you want to tell it. It can grow and expand, contract, ignite, become dormant, evolve, and even surprise you at times.

Recently, I had the opportunity to be interviewed by Matt Johnston, who, through his masterful questions, got me to share about things that I really never have before! It was a true lived moment of exactly what I teach my clients, and I hope you’ll tune in and enjoy getting to know me even more in this unedited, unfiltered way!

LISTEN TO THE INTERVIEW HERE.

If you prefer reading, here’s the transcript. Where did you grow up?

I grew up in the Midwest. I grew up in Oklahoma, in this little town, Bartlesville, Oklahoma. There are two things that are famous about Bartlesville, Oklahoma. One is that there’s actually a Frank Lloyd Wright building. Like, why, I don’t know. And then Phillips 66 gas station, which eventually evolved into 76, was there. So, every field trip was to the mansion, which was Frank Phillips mansion. A small town, you know, and country life in good times. Good gravy.

But yeah, I was there until 18. Then I moved to St. Louis to start college. First of my family to go to college.

So, you were you the youngest sibling?

Yeah, I was the baby. So, I have an older brother and sister. They’re 10 years and nine years older respectively. In many ways, I was like an only child, because they were off, you know, doing their own things. They were out of the house, by the time I was 10. So, most of my teen years were kind of like an only child experience, which is why I’m so stingy and don’t like to share my leftovers. [Laughs]

Don’t touch them. They’re mine. Yeah.

Why was there such a big gap? Was that just your parents, society, or is there something else?

I was just one of those oops babies like they were they were kind of done and… And then… because my dad was, let’s see, my mom was in like late 30s when she had me, which in 1976 was way more rare. And my dad was I think, in his mid 40s. And he’s always teased me that they were going to give me up for adoption. But when I was born, I came out the womb with an inch of, like three

inches of hair, and just sticking straight up like a cockroach. And all this red hair. My dad’s the redhead. He was like… Well, can I give up a redheaded baby or am I gonna keep her. So yeah, that was interesting. Yeah, go ahead.

So, tell me about growing up. When you were four, five, or six, your siblings were still in the house. They were in high school, right?

Yeah.

And what was that like?

Well, as a little one, I was very social. I was always running out of the house and running down the streets. There was this apartment complex, just about three doors down from our house. I would literally just go like door to door knocking, like “do you wanna play?” “Hello, do you want to talk?” “Do you want to hang out?”

And like, at five, six, there was a huge park across the street from our house. So, we kind of grew up in this. It was country but it wasn’t like back country. So, there was a park across the street. We had about an acre out the back door. I spent a lot of time in the backyard. I spent a lot of time running around in the streets and across the neighborhood. You know, my mom and dad, I was just thinking about them when I was little.

What were they like?

I mean, my mom was an entrepreneur. She owned her own business. She was a bookkeeper. So, I really would spend a lot of time on the floor at her feet while she was working, and she would give me little crafts to do or little things … I started filing when I was five years old. So here, here’s some files, kiddo, go do that. It helps me with my work. She would take me around with her on her jobs. So, I would see her working and it was kind of funny.

Later in my life. I had this whole narrative about myself as being very different from everyone in my family, and “nobody’s ever

done any of these things that I’ve done, like start a business.” It wasn’t until I was probably, you know, three years into my business, that I was like, “Wait a second… My mom was a business owner. She was an entrepreneur.” Well, I grew up watching her do that. It’s so strange how it just didn’t really even click in. I didn’t hold her in that way until much later in my life.

My dad was a hard worker, he worked at a zinc factory. So, he worked overnight, and he’d come home and pass out pretty much. But every once in a while, he’d stay up and take me to the donut shop before school. So that was our little time together, a lot of times. He was yeah, was a hard worker. He was a Navy man. He was very gentle, but he had a temper, and I had a temper. So, in my teen years, particularly on the other side of trauma, right when everything just gets out of whack, we would have some drag out, blowout fights.

But he always stood up for me and then he died. He died when I was a senior in high school, he got cancer and the week after I graduated, he died.

So I barely processed that and I was off to college.

Is this from being in the factory?

It was. It was really hard for me to engage. It was really hard for me to be a part of that whole process, so I never asked questions, right? Just that, okay, this is what’s happening. But I tried to maybe tune it out as much as I could. Yeah.

So tell me about your high school years. It sounds like those were eventful.

Lord, have mercy. Me as a teenager ...

So you had mentioned trauma in relation to this. So, I’m guessing that happened in the high school period.

“ I would literally just go door to door knocking,“Do you wanna play?” “Hello, do you want to talk?” “Do you want to hang out?”

“ But the impact of what he had done, wasn’t gone. I was really overwhelmed by a lot, and I didn’t know how to talk about it.

My trauma really started at the age of 10. It’s possible earlier than that, but I only have really clear memory of it starting at the age of 10.

So, my grandfather moved in with our family when I was five. And this was my mom’s dad. Yeah. And so, I was actually really excited about that.

Because again, my older brother and sister were not really paying me much attention And my grandfather was somebody who I would run home from school to go see and I’d go straight to his room, and we would play, and we would hang out, and we spent a lot of time on the front porch. He wore this orange fuzzy sweater that in my mind made me camouflaged because it matched my hair. I’d cuddle up with him. I was a super cuddly kid. If there was a lap, I was in it, I was affectionate.

And then the abuse started. And that really took me out of myself. So, from the age of 10, to roughly 11 and a half. Then my mom found out what was happening.

She just happened to walk by one day and saw him. She looked out the window onto the front porch and saw him touching me and she became mad. She came like blazes out onto the porch, like a mama lion and she snatched me away from him. My mom and dad responded really well to the situation, and they got my grandfather… they made him leave. They moved him out. They moved him in with my Aunt Betty.

That’s sometimes a tough spot because I really think about my mom who now has Alzheimer’s, and she doesn’t remember

me. She doesn’t know me anymore, right? My dad’s gone. But in that moment, both of them were really there for me. Really strong really strong for me.

I’ve been doing this work since 2007 with survivors of sexual abuse and I hear so many stories that are not like that. So many stories of parents who turn a blind eye, parents who defend the person who’s causing harm. And I think there are more stories where people do as my mom and dad did, but we don’t usually hear those because it’s usually just painful moments that people share. Yeah, so that kind of set me on my course.

And he was gone. He was out of the house. But the impact of what he had done, wasn’t gone. I was really overwhelmed by a lot, and I didn’t know how to talk about it. You know, my parents got me into a counselor’s office once or twice, but that was scary. That was hard.

The Counselor, looking back on it, was a complete idiot, saying things like, “Well, did you ever think about not going out on the porch with him?” “Did you ever think about not wearing tank tops?” So, all these things as a 10- or 11-year-old… I didn’t know how to advocate for myself. But had that happened today? I would have told him to go fuck himself. Right? Like, you know, that’s not okay. So that shut me down.

And I thought okay, well, it further confirmed all these fears that I had done something… I had caused all this right. So, I just refused and being the stubborn redhead than I am, I won. My parents, they just surrendered to it.

In middle school and high school there was always this thing. Sitting in the background. Really ... Yeah, really affecting me. Even though I didn’t understand how to talk

about that or how to put those pieces of the puzzle together. I just knew that I was angry.

I knew that I wanted a boy to make me feel like I was good enough. That I needed evidence that I wasn’t a worthless piece of shit, and that I wanted to understand really big things which made me often feel outside of my peer group. Because I didn’t want to talk about who Kirk Cameron was. My generation, Oh Lauren, I date myself, Laughing …“How cute is Kirk Cameron.” “I love Kirk Cameron.

I’m just saying to my friends like, “Are you kidding me?” “Like this is such a waste of time.” “Can we please… like don’t you understand there’s really bad shit happening in the world?”

So, I finally found my crew, right? I found them and of course, these oftentimes were other girls who had experienced trauma because we just got it. We didn’t have to talk about it. You don’t have to name it. We just understood each other. And yeah, but I started working when I was 16. I think that’s something that my mom and dad definitely modeled and instilled in me – being a hard worker. I picked up a little job and really haven’t stopped working since and yeah, it feels like a place to pause.

So, while it was going on, going on for over a year, right? Wow, what was going on? Like what was your level of awareness of what was happening?

I certainly didn’t have any terms. I didn’t have any labels. There wasn’t anything in my world that had informed me or educated me about this.

Today, I think it’s much more common that parents are having conversations, not all, but many conversations about

consent. Conversations about safe touch. Conversations about abuse very pointedly, um…but when I was growing up, it was… I was very much in the world of; respect your elders. That was, you know, my mom comes from the Jehovah’s Witness background, she left it when I was five. But that certainly had impacted her and her frameworks, right. And those were passed along. So, the adults know what they’re doing. Okay, that was about all I understood the adults know what they’re doing. So, if he’s doing this, it must be okay. Even though everything inside of me was you know, cringing and shutting down and disassociating and, you know, going home I stopped… I stopped running home from school, right? I started meandering, I started taking as long as I possibly could. I’d walk through the forest. Right, walking through the trees, and through the fields there.

Yeah, all I knew is that I felt bad. And when I felt like I was doing something wrong. And I remember thinking, when you do bad things, and you do something wrong, you get punished, you get in trouble. So, I’m not telling anyone because I don’t want to get in trouble. I don’t want to get in trouble. So, I just kept it to myself. And that was hard, man. You know, because…it’s hard because, for everybody else. You’re just the same person. Like there might be some signs but for the most, like, you know, you sit down at the breakfast table. I mean, an hour after the first time my grandfather really abused me that I remember, I’m sitting at the dinner table. And my mom’s “How was your day and what did you do” and you know, what do you say? You tell lies, basically, you start pretending. So, I remember that feeling a lot. Feeling like I just became an actress. Right? And that helped in some ways because it helped me disconnect. This isn’t really me. Right? This is a version of me that’s experiencing this but not the full me. Yeah.

“ I stopped running home from school, right? I started meandering, I started taking as long as I possibly could. I’d walk through the forest. Right? Walking through the trees, and through the fields there.

“

Whether you’ve experienced abuse, one time, one moment or you experienced it over the years, it has the capacity to have huge impact.

So you weren’t always necessarily completely aware of the right or wrong of the situation at the time, but that did. I think what’s interesting. I’m trying to figure out how that transition turned into anger and actual frustration about it because certainly you weren’t feeling that at the time because you were… You didn’t understand playing the game that shouldn’t have been played. So how did that evolve? How did that feeling evolve?

Well, I think the moment when my mom ran out on the porch and yelled my name, in like the her best, “Rachel, you’re in trouble” voice. Like, at the time, that’s how it landed for me. I was like, oh, I’m, the one she’s yelling at. I’m the one who’s in trouble here.

It wasn’t until much later in my life that I unpacked that and recognized it as her fear. Right? And her, just protecting and her wanting to get me away. But it was in that moment. There was also this moment where I was sitting on the porch with him one day, and my Aunt Betty pulled up unexpectedly into the driveway and he snatched his hands away from me.

I thought about that one a long time.

And there was the part of me that recognized in that moment. Oh, he knows! He knows he’s doing something wrong! He doesn’t want other people to know about this. So maybe this isn’t okay.

That started to generate more of the questions and then when he moved out of our house... And, I would say, it was really in my teen years that I was feeling the anger but I didn’t know I was feeling the

anger about the abuse. I was angry at everything but it was all misdirected anger. And it wasn’t until maybe my mid 20s when I finally really sat with the anger that I felt towards him for the choices that he’d made toward my life. Did your mother know how long this went on? So, this is one of the wildest things about trauma and about the experiences. It’s not just the individual. It is when you know the family knows. And when the family’s involved it is a family experience. And so, it was probably in my 20s when I was talking to my mom about it. I can’t remember why it came up or why I was talking about it. But I said “you know, all those times that he did that to me, every single time. You know, I didn’t understand what was happening” or something along those lines. And she said “Wait a second. What do you mean every single time? Oh, and what do you mean? Rachel, it just happened that one time right that one time that I saw!” “No Ma No!”

And so, from the time, you know, 11 and a half until my 20s my mom was holding this as a one-time experience. And absolutely, that informed and influenced the way she dealt with me around it. I mean, what I know now having done this work, there is no such thing as competition in trauma, right? All hurt is hurt. So, whether you’ve experienced abuse, one time, one moment or you experienced it over the years, it has the capacity to have huge impact. Regardless, but for her and her framework, she was thinking, “okay, it just happened once. I got in there, I stopped it. She was going to be okay.” And she didn’t know all that I was really holding. All that I was really dealing with. The extent to which he abused me. The different types.

How did she react? How did she feel when you told her that went on for a year?

She just cried.

She didn’t have any words, and she didn’t need to have words. I mean, how would she know. I wouldn’t talk to her about it. I wouldn’t share with her about it until that time in my life when I was finally ready. So, I don’t blame her in any way about that.

But yeah, it was just a real moment of like, well, we’ve had this very differently and how did it feel for you?

It was difficult because one of the things that I’ve struggled with my mother is feeling misunderstood. Feeling like she didn’t get me. Feeling like she didn’t know me really. I would often blame that on her upbringing or her being from a small town and these sorts of things. But, in that moment, it was difficult because, on one hand, it was reinforcing that old narrative of here we go again, “she doesn’t really get me. She doesn’t really understand me.” But there was also some relief in it. There was this little bit of a sense of she couldn’t, she didn’t know. She didn’t have all the facts. So how can I expect something from her, in that case?

What happened to him?

He died very shortly after he was found out.

I was at summer camp. I loved summer camp. Summer Camp was my jam. And I was there in the cabin, the camp counselor came in and asked if I’d go for a walk with her. So, we did and along the way in the walk she said “you know, I heard from your mom that your grandfather has passed away. Do you want to leave camp? Do you want to go back home for the funeral? And I said “Nope!”

No way no how! Not interested! And I went off to the next thing. So, it wasn’t until I was in my 30s Matt, that I went to his grave.

And I very specifically went to his grave because I was in a relationship, and I was struggling. We had hit one of those places where I wanted more. He wasn’t sure. And that unsureness was triggering all this old stuff with me about being an object to be used. Just being good enough for so much and no more. I connected to a very specific moment with my grandfather. When in one of the few moments where I can remember me resisting. Me trying to push him away.

He just said, “let me play with you.” And that seared into my mind, you know?

[Child enters.] Oh, can you say hi? [Both laughing] No. That’s great. But you have other children as well? I have a four-year-old.

Sorry about that. Goodbye buddy. Love you.

So, you saw this manifest in high school. I remember you saying, trying to move in with a guy and like, what’s the story there?

Yeah. Well, I mean, like so many survivors of sexual trauma you’re chasing … You’re chasing a sense of self-worth. You’re chasing a sense of value. So, everything about abuse and trauma teaches you that you’re an object. You’re here for the pleasure and benefit of somebody else. That your needs don’t matter. And so, you end up constantly externalizing that. You’re constantly looking outside of yourself for that sense of value. For that sense of worth.

And boys … I’m bisexual, so later women, you know became the easiest way to do that. If you show me attention, if you approve of me, then I will feel better about myself. And I think by the time I was 16, 16 and a half leading into 17 things were rough in my house. I was aggressive. I was violent. Sometimes I had, you know I was suicidal at times.

“ Like so many survivors of sexual trauma you’re chasing … You’re chasing a sense of self-worth. You’re chasing a sense of value. So, everything about abuse and trauma teaches you that you’re an object. You’re here for the pleasure and benefit of somebody else.

“

So, I went back home. Yeah, and still to this day, they really amaze me when I think about them because there wasn’t a blip at all. There wasn’t any shaming. There wasn’t any we told you so

I was a handful. No doubt about it. I was a complete handful. And my parents had tried various things. They put me in a juvie house for a little while. But we just weren’t getting along. And no fault to them at all. I was a handful. And so I think there was just a part of me that was like, “I gotta get out. I have to escape this in some way. And maybe everything will be better if I’m out of this house.” And so I met Buddy, such a country name (laughing) and my first true love. His name was Buddy.

I met him at a party. Yes, and then, you know, as you do when you’re 16, 17, you fall in love and it’s just full of life and you know, excitement and fun, and I honestly don’t know how we got it in our head, that it was a good idea to move in together. I have no idea! I can’t remember what the circumstances were. He was into it. We ultimately said yeah, let’s do it. And oh, my god, like the 90s in Oklahoma. Two 17-year-olds can roll up into an apartment complex and be like, “Give us a place” and they say, “Sure no problem.” So yeah, so we moved in together. And it was great in so many ways. It was healing in some ways, but you’re 17.

Oh my gosh, right. I knew nothing really, about being in that kind of relationship and my brain wasn’t even done developing at that point . So, there was reactivity. He had his own history of sexual trauma, and we collided eventually. It just evolved into physical abuse and verbal abuse both ways. Both ways. And so eventually it just got to a point where it was madness. It was just madness to stay together. One of us would have ended up really hurt.

So, I went back home. Yeah, and still to this day, they really amaze me when I think about them because there wasn’t a blip at all. There wasn’t any shaming. There wasn’t any we told you so. The only thing my dad did was pick up a bat and head out the door. A little bit of what had been happening. I was like, Dad, no, don’t do that. But they just welcomed me back. They made it so easy

for me. I mean, it was so easy for me. So, then I spent the last year of my, you know, 17-18, watching my dad die. And watching my mom watch my dad die. And my sister and brother weren’t there.

So, it was really just the three of us.

I was skipping school a lot. I’m still, you know kind of dating, hanging out, kicking around. But all I had my eye on, at that time in my life was Matt, was “get the fuck out of here.” To get out of here. Like there was something in me that said, get out of Oklahoma. You gotta go.

And you know, I remember … This is how they prepared us for the SATs. I only had one high school we had one high school in Bartlesville. And the day before the SATs, the counselor comes in and says “Alright, y’all, we’re gonna have a test tomorrow.” So, make sure that you drink some orange juice before you come to school. But that was it. That was our SAT prep. I didn’t even know. So I sit down and do this. You know, five hours of testing or whatever it was. And then, you know, months and months, and months, and months later, I’m starting to fill out applications for college. Again, I’m the first in my family to pursue college. And so, I get to this question about SATs. I’m like, “What is that? ” So, I went to the school counselor, she’s like, “Oh, that’s the test you took when you drank orange juice.”

[Laughing] Oh my oh my gosh! “You did great, you did grea t.” That’s my life so … And, ugh, honestly, my sister had moved to St. Louis. And had been living there for, I don’t know, maybe like, two or three years, however long it was. But there was a school down the street from her, the University of Missouri. And so, I just thought “Alright, that’s where I’m gonna go.” You know, my sister was there. I didn’t put any more thought into it. The map and the flight and garden.

Once I got there, it was … What I just remembered is the night before I left I got

my ass kicked, Matt. I got my ass completely kicked that weekend. I was doing the tour around town, saying goodbye to folks and I rolled up on the basketball court and this girl came at me accusing me of sleeping with her boyfriend. And quite honestly at that time of my life I was like, it’s possible. It’s totally possible. So, I’m in my car with my best friend — busted lip driving to St. Louis. I roll up on the dorm and it’s like, I just remember feeling this sense of like, “Okay, life starts now.” But of course, it didn’t. I mean, that was a nice thought.

But it didn’t you know; I still hadn’t dealt with the trauma. I still hadn’t faced it. I was still pretending that everything was okay. And then one day I was sitting in the computer lab where I worked and Chris rolled in. He had like the biggest smile, and I was like, “wow, who is that guy? ” And I just … every time he’d come in, I’d pull up a chair next to him. I’d try to, you know, to chat. And then we fell in love.

But I really still wasn’t ready for a relationship. I didn’t really understand the implications of how the trauma was going to continue to derail things for me until I faced it. So, we were probably about a year into dating. When I told him more about what had happened to me, and he encouraged me. He was supportive. He helped me, you know, try counseling again because I really didn’t want to after the experiences I’d had. But, ultimately, I did. I started going to counseling and I started getting a little bit of support.

What’s tough about Chris is that we spent 10 years together, so 18 to 28, like all my 20s and we were married for three of those.

But that relationship went the same way. It just stayed on for much longer. So, it too, devolved into emotional abuse and physical abuse.

I was in my 20s when I was doing the deepest healing work around the sexual trauma, so it was a very … it was a very strange time in my life because on one hand, I’m doing this deep healing work around past trauma and then coming home and being traumatized. It was really the most unstable time in my life. Yeah, those were some tough years!

Did you think this was some sort of pattern at this point, and that is your fault. Oh, yeah, I mean, everything is my fault.

That’s the number one lesson that trauma teaches someone. That everything is your fault. If somebody is not happy, it’s your fault. If something doesn’t go right, it’s your fault. And so, one of the things about him is that he was a really good manipulator. He could come into the kitchen … like he walked into the kitchen one day and he hit a glass and it fell off and broke. And he turned to me and said “Why did you do that? What’s wrong with you?” And I was so twisted in my own head that I started crying and apologizing.

“I’m sorry.”

And so, I think this is one the things that is very much at the root of the reason why I fight so hard for people who experience sexual trauma. Because that’s just not fair. It’s, just not fair!

When we have that unhealed part of ourselves, people can manipulate, can maneuver that for their own gain. And nobody should have to live that way. Nobody should have to continue to feel like they’re worthless and feel like they’re to blame for everything because of the choices that other people made. And so, as in all abusive relationships, there are parts and elements that are wonderful. There are things about him that I still cherish to this day, but there wasn’t enough and then

“ I was in my 20s when I was doing the deepest healing work around the sexual trauma, so it was a very … it was a very strange time in my life because on one hand, I’m doing this deep healing work around past trauma and then coming home and being traumatized.

“ It just completely clicked for me in that moment. “It’s not my fault, but my grandfather’s.” I got so clear about it, in that moment. And that shifted everything.

eventually, you know, it came apart. I lost my train of thought there a little bit.

How did that end?

You know, he had an affair. And he said that he wanted to leave and wanted to divorce and again it’s hard. It is like, it’s embarrassing to some extent, even though I totally get it. I totally understand it now. I fought for him that I was like, “No, what do you mean, you can’t leave? We got to figure this out.” And I think you know, there’s sometimes that part of us that does want to rewrite history. So, it’s like I’m gonna keep trying, I’m gonna keep pushing, until I get that other outcome that I want. And, I mean, this is one of the things that like … life is so strange in so many ways, how things piece together and how things come to happen the way they do. So, the woman that he was having an affair with, Sid, said, “Before you all make this decision, I want you to go to this workshop. Go to this workshop as a couple and make sure that this is really what you both want.”

And he brings this to me, right like, “Here’s what she suggested. I think we should go to this workshop. I think we can begin again ” Okay, fine. And what’s amazing about that, is I get to this workshop with the intention of saving my marriage. “He’s gonna see the light.” “He’s going to have an awakening we’re both going to have these big transformations and we’re all of a sudden going to be fabulous and good.” But what actually happened is, I took the mic at one point in this workshop and the facilitator, this man, I can’t remember his name. I really wish I could because I owe him so much.

He starts to ask me these questions and I start to talk about the sexual abuse. And I can’t even remember how he navigated me there.

But for whatever reason, however, when he said it, whatever he did, it just completely clicked for me in that moment. “It’s not my fault, but my grandfather’s.” I got so clear about it. In that moment. And that shifted everything.

And so, my attitude towards Chris and the marriage shifted.

Fast forward a couple of years. I stayed in that community. They have different workshops that you can go through, and I was attending the workshop where you try to take like all the things that you’ve been learning into your community, create something to give back. And I knew I wanted to do a panel. I wanted to bring people together to talk about sexual abuse. I wanted them to have experts and to have some sort of event along those lines

So Matt, I was talking to this guy about it, and I couldn’t think of a name for the event. I was really struggling with it. And he says, “Well tell me a little bit more about why you want to do this, the background.” So, you know, I told him, and he says Rachel you know, I don’t know what to call the event, but you’re such a survivor. You’ve been through so much. It’s amazing. It’s amazing how much you’ve survived. And bless his heart. I didn’t know this was gonna happen. He didn’t know it was gonna happen, but I totally lost my shit on this man. Just started yelling.

I was like, This is not okay. I do not want to be a survivor who wants to do that. No one wants to survive their life. That’s a that’s a waste of life to just survive. I don’t want any of that. Isn’t there something beyond surviving?

And he starts laughing at me. And you know, when you’re upset about something and somebody starts to laugh, you’re like, now I’m double upset. But he says “Rachel, I don’t know about any of that. But I know

that you now have the name of your event. Beyond Surviving.”

And so how wild is life, that the woman that my husband was having an affair directed us towards this community. Where I would ultimately get some of the most profound healing around the sexual abuse I experienced and would also set me on my course in so many ways to what I do today.

This is the stuff I love. I love that about life. And it’s a constant reminder to me that the things that feel like stings, the things that are pain in our life, can, as cliche as it really sounds, be of purpose.

I wasn’t going to do any of this Matt. I was going to be a high school English teacher. I was going to be Robin Williams “Carpe Diem ”. You know, “Oh captain, my captain ”, that was my vision for my life. And then life happens. It went in a different direction.

And that started what you’re doing now. You started with that event and blossomed outward.

Yeah, I think that was, you know, the end of that. The end of my marriage was a huge turning point for me. You know, I had moved. We were in California, but at that point I ended up in California because he was coming out here for school. And I fell in love with California.

I was really scared at that time in my life, when we were divorcing, because I was in my mid to late 20s. So, you know 30 is approaching, which now today I’m like “It’s no big deal.” When you’re 28 approaching 30, it feels like a big deal. And “How am I going to support myself? How am I going to you know, make a living out here. Can I even afford to live here? ” “Is anybody going to want me? ”

Like “I’m a 28-year-old divorcee with sexual trauma.” Like all that was still there for me.

And I remember sitting in my living room on the floor. I didn’t have anything in the apartment. I just had a lamp and a sleeping bag at that moment. And I was crying. I was just crying and sobbing because I didn’t understand. Like, “Why is this my life?” “Right ” and “Why is this happening to me ” and “Who am I that I keep causing this?” And it was almost like, I like to think of it as an angel because I can be kind of WooWoo, spiritual, but that’s kind of also my intuition, my higher self. I just heard this voice “Rachel, stop it!”

“You’ve got to get your shit together, like right now. Or you’re gonna spend the rest of your life like this.” “Get up and do something.”

And so, I did a lot of somethings. I started reading everything I could. I started going to groups. I eventually got my master’s in counseling psychology.

But really, the hugest impact in my healing journey was when I started studying the neuroscience of trauma.

And so that had all started around 2006,2007. I had done a workbook “Shelter from the Storm ” that had really helped a lot. And I was thinking about that time in the workshops and things I learned there. I was reading more about trauma. I always talk about this as my book-smart time. Like this is my time of becoming book-smart about trauma, learning about it all trying to get the terms and put the pieces together. But I was so convicted about doing something that every single thing I understood, I then tried to use my background and education and curriculum development to translate it into an action.

So if that’s true, if that’s the theory, that’s the idea, then what do I have to do to back that up. Or to get that into my system to shift or change something? And so that was to be my “Beyond Surviving Program” being kind of birth right. I didn’t know back when I said

“ I like to think of it as an angel because I can be kind of WooWoo, spiritual, but that’s kind of also my intuition, my higher self. I just heard this voice “Rachel, stop it!”

“

I walked into his office and said, “I want to do a group for women who have experienced sexual abuse.”

beyond surviving that it was gonna become a program. There was a gap of time between that. But I hearkened back to that moment. Oh, that’s what I’m creating now. That, by the way, that event, never happened. The only thing I really looked at that time, I got two really important critical things from that time.

It’s not my fault, and the name.

But, so I’m just kind of piecing things together and I’m using myself as a guinea pig. Like “ What happens if I do this?” “I s that effective?” “What happens if I do that?”

And then I was in church, at the time, here in San Francisco and I built a good relationship with one of the care pastors there. And just kind of in my head, you know, again, like I’d like to think that there was all this foresight and planning. No, I just like this moment of like, “why not?” “Let me go see what happens if I say this.” And I walked into his office and said, “I want to do a group for women who have experienced sexual abuse. But like that was the extent of how much I thought about it. I didn’t have a lot of structure to it, a lot of outline for it. So, I think I want to use this book as the jumping off point. But I think there are other things that I want to build in and that I want to teach, and I want to offer but that’s not all I know.”

And it turns out that he had experienced sexual abuse himself.

And so, he was all for it. And he said, “great, what do you need?”

And his name is Marty Scribal.

He’s okay with me sharing that and sharing that part of his story. And I name him because we all need advocates along the way, right? We all need those people who open doors for us. Without that moment of him saying yes, I probably would have gotten here somewhere, somehow, you know, but that set me up in a safe community. I Started working with women. It’s totally free. I

mean, I was straight up with them. I was like, I have no idea. This is what’s worked for me. I hope it will work for you. You all are my guinea pigs. Sign waiver here.

So, for three years, I did that. And I didn’t really know it at the time, but I was crafting the program. And I was like, “that doesn’t really work ” or “Oh, I need to add another piece in there ”. Or, “Oh, yeah, this really lands! ” And “This really makes a difference.” And so it was, you know, really around 2010 or so that I decided all right. “Let’s run with this. Let’s see what happens.”

I started to feel “there.”

Two things that happened.

I started to feel like I had a good handle on what I wanted to do and what was effective and different about how I was approaching this. From, when these women were saying things to me like “I’ve been in therapy for 20 years, and nobody’s ever explained it to me this way.” “Nobody’s ever helped me see it the way you’ve helped me see it.” I thought, “Okay, there’s something else happening here.”

And … I’ve been a nanny for a very long time, right when I moved out to California in 2004. I’d been with that family for nine years. These are my surrogate babies. So, they kept growing up. So you know, I stayed in their life, as you know, surrogate auntie. They did not see me as nanny, so I’m at a crossroads in my life. “Okay, where do I go from here?” “Do I continue being a nanny?”

I was talking with a friend, my dear friend Della, who speaks with such life. It’s so important that we have people like that. And she says, “Rachel, you gotta go to grad school.” “No, no, no way. I’m not gonna go back to school. I’m in my mid 30s. Are you kidding me? Like I’m over it. I just did not get to go to grad school.”

She says, “If you’re going to back this up, if you’re gonna do this, you’ll need a little bit more.” So, I did, I enrolled, and I got my

master’s in counseling psychology.

I started with the intention of being a marriage and family therapist. I was going down that track, but a couple of things happened along the way that helped me see that therapy was not my lane — that what I wanted to do and how I wanted to do it was not going to be able to happen in the therapeutic world. Therapy is amazing, but it wasn’t the right space for the approach that I wanted to take. Whereas coaching was, and so that’s what I did. I started learning more. I started calling up coaches. I talked to like 100 coaches, Matt. “Can you talk with me about your coaching business?” “Can you tell me about coaching.” “What is it, how do you do it? ” And just learning, learning, learning. Eventually, one of those people a woman, Chris Carey, another door opener for me. She said, “Yes, you can be kind of an apprentice. And you can do some admin work for me in trade. I’ll show you, I’ll give you the lay of the land.” She kind of showed me the ropes and helped me think through what I wanted to do and how to set up my business. And she gave me my very first client. So, you know, I was building, building, building. And trying things out, getting a little bit of traction.

And around 2013 or 14, I was solid. I knew exactly what the Beyond Surviving program was. I knew exactly who I wanted to help and how I wanted to help them.

I felt really, I had enough clients where I was starting to feel like yeah, this is good. This works, you know? But I didn’t have the business savvy. And so my dear friend, Lauren, said, “Hey, why don’t you come to this weekend conference? ” “It’s all about building business.” It was the company that she was working for, Bill Barron Coaching. So I went, and I fell in love with the community. And a year later, I was …

I’d still been working part time gigs because I had not gotten to the place where I could fully support myself as a coach. So, I was doing little side jobs, and I was working for this startup down in Redwood City. And I remember a day I was talking with a friend and I said, “This is sucking my soul. Like I just want to focus on my business.” And “God the hours that I spend down there, you know, it’s fine, but it’s not really what I want to be doing and it’s, you know, not really a high return on investment income wise.” so I was, you know, bitching and moaning as my mom would say, I’m out and about not doing anything about it, right. Then a week later, they fired me. Being fired from that job came out of the blue. I didn’t see it coming at all. And I remember calling Della up and saying “I’m unemployed. I just got fired from this job.” She laughs at me, and she says, “Rachel, you’re not unemployed. You own a business. What are you talking about?” And then all right. Okay. Here’s what I’m going to do. I’ve just got to plan for myself.

I said “All right. I have you know, this amount of money in savings that can last for this many months. So, if I don’t have to take more than x amount out each month to keep myself going, then I’m just gonna focus 100% on the Beyond Surviving and working with people who’ve experienced sexual abuse.” And that’s what I did. I never touched my savings.

That was the moment in my life where everything shifted to being fully focused on this work and I haven’t looked back.

I don’t look back!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Rachel is the owner and founder of Rachel Grant Coaching and is a Sexual Abuse Recovery Coach. Rachel holds a Master of Arts in Counseling Psychology and is the author of Beyond Surviving: The Final Stage in Recovery from Sexual Abuse and Overcome the Fear of Abandonment. You can download both free on her website She works with survivors of childhood sexual abuse to help them let go of the pain of abuse and finally feel normal. Her program, Beyond Surviving , is specifically designed to change the way we think about and heal from abuse. She has successfully used this program to help her clients break free from the past and move on with their lives.

Reach Rachel here or on Facebook

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SUPPORTING SURVIVORS

RESOURCES: BOOKS FOR ADULT SURVIVORS

Beyond Surviving: The Final Stage in Recovery from Sexual Abuse by Rachel Grant. Author Rachel Grant brings to the table a passionate belief that you do not have to remain trapped or confronted daily by the thoughts or behaviors that result from abuse. Through her own journey of recovery from sexual abuse, she has gained insight and understanding about what it takes to overcome abuse.

The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma by Bessel van der Kolk M.D. Dr. Bessel van der Kolk, uses recent scientific advances to show how trauma literally reshapes both body and brain, compromising sufferers’ capacities for pleasure, engagement, self-control, and trust. He explores innovative treatments—from neurofeedback and meditation to sports, drama, and yoga—that offer new paths to recovery by activating the brain’s natural neuroplasticity.

Forgiving The Nightmare, by Pastor Mark Sowersby begs the questions “How do you forgive when you’ve been wounded deeply?” “How do you move past the pain that keeps you up at night, leaves you isolated, untrusting, and afraid? How can you possibly forgive them, especially when they don’t deserve forgiveness?”

Glorious Awakenings, My Journey of God’s Healing by Chris Cline is about her journey of God’s healing from sexual abuse. It shares the abuse and the path she took to heal – God redeeming the pieces of her that were broken emotionally, physically, spiritually, and sexually. Chris says “It is a beautiful story of how Jesus saved me – how my journey healed me and brought me to a closer relationship with God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit.”

Healing My Life: From Incest to Joy by Donna jenson. A deeply personal story that explores the sexual violence Jenson endured at the hands of her father, the refusal of her family to acknowledge her pain, and a rocky escape as a teenager from the Midwest to start anew in sixties-era California. Jenson writes with her sense of humor firmly intact, reminding us that joy is possible in the face of great pain. Poignant, brave, and helpful, Healing My Life offers a much-needed testimony for anyone affected by childhood sexual abuse.

Healing Sibling Sexual Abuse: A Very Personal Story by Hannah Louise Cartwright RN, MA, Memoir and self-help book for adult survivors of sibling sexual abuse written by a psychotherapist. Her book tells the personal story of recovering from sexual abuse at the hands of

a sibling. Cartwright aims to help victims understand the impact sibling abuse has on survivors, provides tools to help them begin their healing journey and emphasizing that survivors can leave the past behind and build happy lives ahead.

Healing Steps by Sharyn Higdon Jones: A Gentle Path to Recovery for Survivors of Childhood Sexual Abuse is a step-by-step guide to healing from the deep pain of early sexual abuse. Such profound abuse touches the core of a woman’s being: in unwanted memories, confusing feelings, distorted self-image, ongoing relationship struggles, and more. This frank and thorough book, written by a therapist who has herself survived sexual abuse, offers clear-eyed advice, stories of struggles and recovery, and most importantly, exercises to guide you in your own healing.

The Journey of the Heart by Anna Cley. From floating boxes to lifesaving riddles to an

BOOKS FOR ADULT SURVIVORS CONT.

enlightened mirror, The Journey of the Heart is a timeless tale that speaks to the inner child in us all.

The Journey of the Heart offers heartfelt assurance that no matter what circumstances we are born into, our future is ours to write.

Leaving Darkness Behind by Elizabeth M. Altmaier. This book helps survivors find the road to recovery and learn healthy practices that will lead to thriving, not just surviving.

Survivors of childhood sexual abuse can begin a recovery journey informed by accurate understandings, not myths, and empowered by processes that help them thrive. Written for men and women by an author who is herself a survivor, this guide tells the truth about what complex trauma means for your physical and mental health.

Loving My Salt Drenched Bones by Karo Ska. Karo Ska delivers an ensemble of poetic magic

in her highly anticipated book, loving my salt-drenched bones. Ska’s mastery of emotional and interpersonal subject matter takes the reader on a journey into the bright side of darkness filled with love, heartache, joy, and the poetic tone that only Ska can manifest.

The MindBody Toolkit by Kim Deramo, D.O. Ten Tools to Instantly Increase Your Energy, Enhance Productivity, and Even Reverse Disease.

The MindBody Toolkit explains the science behind the mind-body connection and gives you 10 tools you can use anytime, anywhere to activate self-healing and awakening now!

Miss America by Day by Marilyn Van Derber. Former Miss America, Marilyn Van Derber, tells the story of how she was sexually violated by her father from age 5 to age 18. She was 53 years old before she was able to speak the words

in public: “I am an incest survivor.” Van Derbur describes in detail what specific “work” she did on her successful journey from victim to survivor.

My Pain is My Power by Tanisha Bankston. Tanisha’s life changed before it began at the age of 5 or 6 years old when she was raped by a friend of the family and she wasn’t believed. The damage caused her to have to relearn how to walk. Her pain continued through adulthood before she could finally enjoy life.

Shattered Innocence by Darlene J. Clark. Abuse happens too often. Back in the 1960’s, it was taboo to speak about this - especially the sexual abuse. “Shattered Innocence” takes us on Darlene’s journey of discovery and healing.

Sibling Abuse: Hidden Physical, Emotional, and Sexual Trauma

Second Edition by Vernon R. Wiehe Often excused by parents as `kids will be kids’ behavior, sibling abuse remains largely unrecognized. Symptoms of such abuse and its devastating effects on victims go undetected, victims do not receive appropriate therapeutic intervention, and transgressors do not come to the attention of the courts.

Sibling Sexual Abuse: A Guide for Confronting America’s Silent Epidemic by Brad Watts. This book is written by a counselor who rehabilitates offenders. The author gives insight into sibling sexual abuse—the causes, the effects and the devastating statistics.

The Survivors Club, by Nubia DuVall Wilson. Eva wakes up and finds herself in a 1920s lounge with four strangers. One by one, each is mysteriously pulled back in time by an invisible force to keep an unknown boy named Quentin alive. Without a sense of time and no way out, the group becomes entangled in a life or death situation. Tension increases while they piece together a puzzle that reveals more than just a complicated boyhood. Ultimately, each stranger has a secret that creates more unity than they could have imagined.

Thriving After Sexual Abuse:

Break Your Bondage to the Past and Live a Life You Love by Denise Bossarte. This book is an eloquent and empathetic selfdevelopment book laying out a blueprint for survivors to heal themselves. Bossarte writes with fierce candor as she shares her own traumatic experience with childhood sexual abuse.

The Ugliest Word by Annie Margis tells the story of a little girl named Lark whose father is molesting her, as she navigates childhood, and the woman she becomes. An aspiring writer and artist, Lark’s spunk and creativity buoy her as the abuse progresses.

The Ugliest Word is for those who survived childhood incest and for everyone who loves a survivor, is friends with or works with one.

Victim 2 Victor by Anu Verma.

This inspiring and brutally honest memoir details the struggle for survival and the search for healing and happiness. Raised in abuse and navigating through consequences, a young, broken soul finds the strength to embark on a journey to reclaim her self-worth. Her inspiring journey is a lifelong struggle to find self-worth on the ruins of self-esteem.

What Do I Do Now? A Survival Guide for Mothers of Sexually Abused Children (MOSAC) by Mel Langston PhD and Leona Puma. What do I do now? is a mother’s cry after she learns her child has been sexually abused. A mother’s belief in her child’s disclosure and her active support and protection after disclosure are essential to recovery from the horror of sexual abuse.

BOOKS FOR KIDS & TEENS

30 Days of Sex Talks for Ages 8-11: (2nd edition) Empowering Your Child with Knowledge of Sexual Intimacy by Educate and Empower Kids. This is a series that helps you discuss sex education as a family. Having these talks with your child will establish a pattern of healthy conversations for the future. As you move through the discussions, these interactions will gain depth and your relationship will strengthen. Your child will become more comfortable talking to you about anything as he or she grows into the healthy, knowledgeable person he or she will become.

Cory Helps Kids Cope with Sexual Abuse First Edition by Liana Lowenstein This therapeutic story and collection of creative activities are designed to help children cope with sexual abuse and trauma. Therapeutic games, art, puppets, and other engaging techniques address the eight components of TF-CBT (TraumaFocused Cognitive Behavioral Therapy). Includes a reproducible story, assessment and treatment activities, and detailed parent handouts. Geared to children aged 4 to 12.

Good Pictures Bad Pictures Jr.: A Simple Plan to Protect Young Minds by Kristen A. Jenson (Author), Debbie Fox (Illustrator) It’s not if our kids come across pornography, it’s when. This is a great book for parents to read to kids about why pornography can be harmful.

I Said No! A Kid-to-kid Guide to Keeping Private Parts Private by Kimberly King and Zack King (Authors) and Sue Rama (Illustrator) Helping kids set healthy boundaries for their private parts can be a daunting and awkward task. Written from a kid’s point of view, I Said No! makes this task a lot easier.

Please Tell: A Child’s Story About Sexual Abuse (Early Steps) by Jessie Written and illustrated by a young girl who was sexually molested by a family member, this book reaches out to other children in a way that no adult can, Jessie’s words carry the message, “It’s o.k. to tell; help can come when you tell.

Repair for Kids: A Children’s Program for Recovery from Incest and Childhood Sexual Abuse by Margie McKinnon (Author), and Tom W. McKinnon (Illustrator) R.E.P.A.I.R is Recognition, Entry, Process, Awareness, Insight, and Rhythm. Enter a Six-Stage Program with your child to cross the Bridge of Recovery and make available a whole new world of hope.

Some Secrets Should Never

Be Kept by Jayneen Sanders (Author), and Craig Smith (Illustrator). A beautifully illustrated children’s picture book that sensitively broaches the subject of keeping children safe from inappropriate touch.

Tootles the Turtle Tells the Truth by Lenell Levy Melancon. This is a lovely book that playfully walks a child through a story about someone scaring a child into not telling. The characters ask interactive questions at the end of the book to engage readers in a candid discussion of good, bad and scary secrets.

TEENS

Ascend, a Zine for teen survivors of sexual assault and friends. Ascend supports young people who are survivors of sexual assault.

Caprice by Coe Booth, written with extreme sensitivity and honesty for middle-grade readers, is a painful but ultimately healing novel about finding support from your parents and friends, articulating your truth, and choosing your own path.

As Caprice tries to figure out her future, she is pulled back toward her past, and the abuse she endured from her uncle when she was little -- an abuse she’s never told anyone about.

From acclaimed author Kate Messner comes Chirp, the powerful story of a young girl with the courage to make her voice heard, set against the backdrop of a summertime mystery.

When Mia moves to Vermont the summer after seventh grade, she’s recovering from the broken arm she got falling off a balance beam. And packed away in the moving boxes under her clothes and

KIDS & TEENS CONT.

gymnastics trophies is a secret she’d rather forget.

Fighting Words by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley In this powerful novel that explodes the stigma around child sexual abuse and leavens an intense tale with compassion and humor, Kimberly Brubaker Bradley tells a story about two sisters, linked by love and trauma, who must find their own voices before they can find their way back to each other.

Ten-year-old Della has always had her older sister, Suki. When their mom went to prison, Della had Suki. When their mom’s boyfriend took them in, Della had Suki. When that same boyfriend did something so awful they had to run fast, Della had Suki. Suki is Della’s own wolf--her protector. But who has been protecting Suki? Della might get told off for swearing at school, but she has always known how to keep quiet where it counts. Then Suki tries to kill herself, and Della’s world turns so far upside down, it feels like it’s shaking her by the ankles. Maybe she’s been quiet about the wrong things. Maybe it’s time to be loud.

It Happened on Saturday by Sydney Dunlap. Thirteen-year-old Julia would much rather work with horses at the rescue barn than worry about things like dating and makeup. But when her BFF meets a boy at camp, Julia’s determined not to get left behind. After a makeover from her older sister, she posts a picture of herself online and gets a comment from Tyler a seemingly nice kid who lives across town. As they DM more and more, Julia’s sure that Tyler understands her in a way her family never has. Even better, their relationship earns her tons of attention at school. Then Julia finds out Tyler’s true plan…

Let’s Talk About It by Erika Moen and Matthew Nolan. The Teen’s Guide to Sex, Relationships, and Being a Human. Inclusive, accessible and honest graphic novel guide to growing up, from gender and sexuality to consent and safe sex. Perfect for any teen starting to ask questions.

The Secrets We Keep by Cassie Gustofson In the vein of The Way I Used to Be and Kelly Loy Gilbert’s Conviction, this “exceedingly well-written, powerful, and suspenseful” young adult novel follows a girl’s struggle to reconcile friendship, sexual abuse, and the secrets we bury deep down inside to survive.

High school freshman Emma Clark harbors a secret—a secret so vile it could implode her whole world, a secret she’s managed to keep buried…until the day her best friend, Hannah, accuses Emma’s father of a heinous crime.

ONLINE SUPPORT

ONLINE SUPPORT GROUPS FOR SURVIVORS:

1 in 6 sponsors free anonymous chat-based support groups for male survivors of sexual abuse seeking a community of support. Sessions are offered Monday through Friday. These written chat (no audio or video) groups focus on education and mutual support for males and are facilitated by a counselor.

Complicated Courage is a website and blog for sibling sexual abuse survivors.

Healing PTSD Naturally iKathryn Berg, of Lotus Homeopathy offers support on Facebook for people who suffer from PTSD to help them discover natural methods of dealing with PTSD, no matter what the cause. This group supports all trauma not only sexual abuse survivors.

HelpRoom Offered by 360 Communites an affiliate of RAIIN, HelpRoom is an anonymous online group chat option that allows members of the community who have been affected by sexual violence to connect with one another. Trained staff facilitate group discussions to ensure a safe environment for all visitors to discuss topics and experiences related to sexual violence.

Hidden Water Healing Circles meet weekly — either in-person or online — and are designed to enable participants to find the growing edge of their healing alongside others who have had similar experiences with childhood sexual abuse.

Incest AWARE is a group for those working to end incest and help survivors of incest abuse to heal.

The Incest AWARE Facebook was born following a large meeting of incest prevention advocates, healers, and authors who came together in February 2021 to talk about the opportunities and challenges we face today in our efforts to prevent incest.

Isurvive is an online abuse survivor support group. Their forums/chat

rooms are open to adult survivors and their loved ones seeking to heal from all forms of abuse including sexual, physical, verbal, emotional and ritual.

The Lamplighter Movement is dedicated to recovery from incest and child sexual abuse. They have chapters located throughout the US that organize groups for survivors.

National Association of Adult Survivors of Child Abuse NAASCA has a list of recovery groups and services worldwide for adult survivors of abuse, including incest. Their online daytime recovery meetings are an open discussion forum about child abuse trauma and recovery and are hosted by volunteer members.

Sexual Assault Advocacy Network (SAAN) Facebook Group was founded to support the people who support sexual violence survivors. Their active Facebook group connects survivoradvocates who are working to support incest and sexual abuse survivors, change policy and raise awareness.

Survivors Of Childhood Trauma is a friendly Facebook group that offers help and advice to fellow survivors from all walks of life.

Survivors of Incest Anonymous (SIA) is a 12-step recovery program for adult survivors of incest. They offer a range of peersupport groups including virtual, phone and in-person – all free of cost. Their website also contains resources and information of interest to incest survivors.

Tail of the Bell is geared toward adult survivors of incest. It will soon be offering peer-to-peer incest survivor facilitated groups called YANA. Participants will become members of small groups of 6-8 survivors maximum who will meet weekly in a virtual space to offer mutual support and guidance.

Wings Support Groups offers a variety of virtual and in-person groups in the Denver Metro area. Wings supports adult survivors of childhood sexual abuse to live

their fullest, healthiest lives as they speak about, heal from and thrive beyond CSA trauma.

SUPPORT FOR FAMILIES OF SURVIVORS

M*OASIS Support (Mothers* Of Adult Survivors of Incest and Sexual Abuse) is a resource website and blog for anyone looking to understand how to support a survivor of incest and sexual abuse.

StopSO Support for Families Online Group is a safe and supportive space for family members of a sexual offender or for family members of someone who is worried that they may cause sexual harm. (StopSO also provides services for those at risk of offending and concerned about their thoughts or behavior.).

SEARCHABLE DATABASE

Psychology Today’s website has a “Find a Therapist” directory of therapists, psychiatrists, treatment centers and support groups located throughout the US that is searchable by city or zip code.

RAINN’s National Resources for Sexual Assault Survivors and their Loved Ones resources and references

NSVRC (National Sexual Violence Resource Center) has compiled a list of linkable websites and resources offering support and help for survivors, which includes links to support groups.

IF YOU OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW IS IN IMMEDIATE DANGER AND NEEDS MEDICAL ATTENTION, CALL 911.

NATIONAL

RAINN Hotline:

800.656.HOPE (4673)

Live Chat 24/7

Crisis Text Line:

Text “START” to 741741

Rain Website

4 pm – 12 am 7 days a week IF

National Domestic

Violence Hotline:

Select “chat now”

Or call 1.800.799.7233

(If you’re not alone text

LOVEIS to 22522)

NDVH Website

COLORADO

CCASA Hotline: 800.799.SAFE (7233)

CCASA Website

Advocate Safehouse Hotline: 970.285.0209

Response Hotline: 970.925.7233

Response Website

Colorado Crisis Services: 844.493.TALK (8255)

Text TALK to 38255

Voices Heard shatters the long held silence of sexual abuse survivors through story-telling and expressive arts.