This isn’t a cute story to match the painting.

Trigger warning…

She’s been asked often, how she has memories of such a young and vulnerable age. Memories looking over her Mom’s shoulder, soap in the mouth, whippings for accidents, and rolling around on her grandfather’s floor. Oh and don’t forget about that grandfather’s clock! It was so scary, as it chimed at noon.

Her grandfather passed away when she was only 4. She remembered the green tent and rainy day. She didn’t really understand where it was he went to, but she knew everyone was sad. She has one real memory with her Pop-Poo. He, her Granny, and herself sat in the maroon interior car watching a train. It was the first time she had ever seen a train and she felt super special sitting in the front on the center console watching as it screamed by!

It was in the house where her first sexual and inappropriate conducts would have happened. Most is blocked and tucked away in a dark secret place. But the one thing she can never hide is how she feels. She grew thinking it was normal for boy cousins to treat me inappropriately.. No one ever explained to her it’s not ok. In fact, no one ever talked to her about any of it, even after she told her Aunt. She remembers still the conversations she overheard from the adults discussing it. She didn’t feel it was necessary to tell again about the other incidents.

By age 12, this young girl was touched, made feel uncomfortable, verbally, physically, and sexually abused. Her happy place at her Aunt’s suddenly stopped. Her best friends grandfather showed her something that made her nauseous. The image of his penis still fresh in her memories.. stripping her of the only place where all of her happy childhood memories were. She told her Mom she didn’t want to go back and she never questioned why.

These feelings still haunt her, still make her uncomfortable even at age 39. Scared to look men in the eyes, in public. Always fearing she will give the wrong impression.. lead them on.. invite them into her space.

I will stop at this grade level and continue another day into the teen years. It’s a lot to endure; these feelings. Just know these horrible behaviors that were inflicted on me, changed, robbed, altered, and forever made someone different. It happens to too many people. Children need to be allowed to just be children so they can grow into the human that is meant for them.

Until next time…