Usually, I write about the chakras and focus on you and your amazing potential and possibilities.
But Spirit keeps telling me to share something really, really personal with you — my #metoo experience — and it scares the hell out of me, because I don’t fully understand the “why” of this sharing and really don’t want to impose on you.
Still, I trust Spirit. Always. Unconditionally. So, I MUST follow this guidance. Can you read this with an open heart and give my sharing a soft place to land?
I believe I have personally outgrown these events and now have a lovely relationship with my beloved, Ross, but it still, it seems important that all of us women who have suffered some sort of abuse put our voices out there so we can reflect a real picture of what has been taking place sexually in our world for centuries.
We need to clear the slate and start anew.
Here’s my story.
I have been sexually abused several times, in different ways. I can’t even say the exact number of times, because while I remember three incidents quite clearly, I also have an entire year of my life (when I lived with a male friend) that I cannot recall at all. That’s right. I literally, cannot remember an entire year.
I recently went back and stood on the doorstep of that old address, and I didn’t even recognize the place. This selective amnesia makes me curious — or more accurately, suspicious — of what I experienced during that year, but I have no way of revisiting it at this time, so it remains a mystery for now…
What I do know is this:
My older brother molested me when I was about 10 or 11. One day, he brought me into his room, placed my hand on his penis and showed me how to pleasure him.
After that, he never did it again.
I think the guilt overweighed his adolescent lust, and looking back, I forgive him. He was a young boy with potent sex drive (in our very dysfunctional household!), not thinking about the effect his actions would have on me, until after he’d already done it and it was too late to take back.
I’m pretty sure he has never forgiven himself, though, because he has always kept me at a distance, and by now, I have accepted that he very likely, always will. To me, in the big picture, that is the biggest loss.
The next abuse happened when I was 19 or 20. I had just moved to the Atlantic City area, and one night, I went out to a bar with some new girlfriends, and some guy put a roofie (knock out drug) in my drink.
I remember everything spinning after just one drink and then walking out of the bar to get some air (I should have turned to my new girlfriends, but I think I was embarrassed about feeling so sick). I sat down on a curb and threw up. After that, all I remember is waking up in this stranger’s bed and him saying that I came home with him from the bar and that we’d had sex.
This was back in the day when there was no information about roofies yet. I knew I only had one drink, but somehow, I thought it was all my fault. I really didn’t understand exactly what had happened until many years later when all the news about roofies came out in the media. At the time of that incident, I had just started dating a guy pretty regularly, so I felt some shame and guilt, like I had “cheated” on him (it’s so weird how things can get twisted and turned around in your head).
The thing I want to point out is that up to that point, I still didn’t have a healthy, personal relationship with my own sexuality. Sex was something I put up with in order to be loved or to get close to a man. It wasn’t about me sharing what I really wanted or opening up. I wasn’t able to do that yet.
The last sexual abuse of my life took place just nine years ago.
And at that time, I was much more connected to my sexuality, so the abuse was much more ‘subtle.’ You may not even think it was abuse, and that’s okay.
I know that it was. And I took action on it, and that is all that matters to me. I’m sharing my experience from my perspective, and of course, you have the right to interpret it any way you want.
I was head-over-heels in love with a guy who had a genuinely big heart. We met through an online dating service and I fell for him immediately, because his energy felt homey and delicious to me.
We dove into a passionate relationship that seemed amazing, except for two big flags that I didn’t fully acknowledge until after he “raped” me (yes, I’m using quotes because I understand that you may not consider his actions to be rape, and I want to honor the subjective nature of my experience).
The two flags were: 1) Whenever I would speak of our future together, he would say that he was going to ruin us, that we wouldn’t ultimately last (I thought he was just insecure about whether he could be a “good” boyfriend, so I ignored his comment, though it definitely made me feel uneasy). And 2) He told me quite frankly that his wife of about 20 years (who had divorced him 3 years earlier) said she was afraid of him.
I don’t know why he shared this with me (a few different times), but it was definitely another puzzle in our relationship. WHY would she be afraid of this sweet, loving man?
I eventually got my answer.
We had been dating a few months, and I could feel him getting more reactive to me, more agitated by innocent actions. He got really upset about me not showing up right on time for something, and it felt like an over-reaction to me, but I wanted to soothe him a bit, and meet him halfway, so I offered to come see him at his place which was quite a drive (an hour or so) from mine.
I won’t go into all the details. The only part I need to share is this: at one point in our “love making,” the man who loved me was replaced by a man who was very, very angry with me, and he used the time inside me to hurt me. And it all happened so quickly that it took my body and consciousness a moment to catch up.
I was in a sort of shock.
I laid there and took his anger and abuse.
I know right now, especially if you’re a man, you may be wondering… was he just being passionate?
No. He was being angry and abusive. I’m not even sure it was “him” who was inside of me. It seemed like some shadow side of him had taken over.
I loved this man. With all my heart. And as an empath, I know the difference between love and anger; love-making and sexual abuse.
But my mind couldn’t wrap around what had happened. Still, instinctually, I knew we were over.
And we were.
I understood why his wife was afraid of him.
I understood why he had said he would eventually ruin us.
Sexual abuse comes in so many different forms.
I have been abused by a young boy’s naive lust, a young man’s criminal scheming, and a grown man’s repressed shadow.
And every incident (like all incidents in life) has led me deeper into who I really am and what I am, and am NOT, willing to accept in my life.
I just got tears in my life as I typed that “NOT” in capitals.
Boundaries and strength, ladies. We must rid our lives of what is not acceptable, so we have room to cultivate what we truly want.
We must quite simply say “no” to what we refuse to let into our field, so we can say a big “yes” to the love, support, pleasure, and joy that awaits our invitation.
I am writing this in a Divine Feminine “11” year, at the start of a new moon (new beginnings — though I didn’t actually publish this until a couple weeks later), and I want to send out this intention:
May the Divine Feminine energy grow on this planet and may we all learn to own the sacral energy within us that is sensitive, flowing, intuitive and emotional. If we can all feel safer with each other, then we can be more vulnerable, open and connected.
I have a vision of us all — men and women — coming together with an awareness that sexuality can only be enjoyed when given freely. You can’t take it. Anything we take in relationship cannot be enjoyed, because the joy of relationship comes from connection, love and respect for the other.
Thanks for letting me share. I hope this helps you in some way.
I love and appreciate you.