Finding Your Voice

Hello Reader, It's been a while. Though I haven't written a recent blog, the words have still been flowing on to the pages. The hidden memories and the untold stories that have an appointed time to emerge. But it has been you, dear readers, that has been on my mind. I get emails from some of you asking and sharing different things. Thank you for sharing a allowing me to share with you.

The two things that get said most often to you or about you when you open up about your abuse are; Why didn't you just leave? and You're crazy, or stupid as hell for putting up with that. Like a hermit crab who dared to venture out, you now retreat as fast as hell back into that shell when you hear these words. I know, I've been there. Some day's, when I allow one of my stories to pass my lips, I hear those words and still find myself there, trying frantically to scurry back into my shell from the safety of judgment from those fortunate to have never lived my kind of life.

Recently, I found myself in this situation again. The heat quickly rising into my face, the knot growing in my stomach, the panic of seeking immediate refuge. That's when it hit me; No more was I going to allow someone else's inability to understand my timing, my reasons and my story, send me scampering back into the shell of silent safety. I no longer needed the approval of anyone to own my story with all of it's flaws, and I was perfectly okay with this. I also decided I didn't need to allow myself to become angry with those who do not get it, because they simply don't have the understanding that you need. People can't give what they don't have and there's nothing you can do to change that. It's the equivalent to expecting a goat to give you cow milk.

Just in case you were in the market and looking, I did not put my shell up for sale. I destroyed it. Sorry, not sorry, I wasn't going to be an enabler. It took a good number of years for me to understand this about myself and I have sense fixed that deficit. But back onto a serious thought, I demolished the shell of shame. I obliterated the place of silent retreat. I shattered it into a million unfixable pieces.

With what you ask? Simply by no longer feeling or owning any shame for what I went through, no matter how much another can't understand my whys and hows. Statistically, it takes an average of 9 - 11 times of leaving for an abused person, most often women, to leave a marriage/relationship. That's just the average number, it's usually much higher than that.

Shame is a powerful tool for a perpetrator. But shame is not something you have to own. Get rid of it. Don't you dare try to pass it on to someone else or sell it. That's like trying to sell dirty socks at a yard sale. No one wants or needs that. Don't give shame a foothold in your story. Tell your story, use your voice. You own the rights to it and judgment has no reserved seating. If I accomplish nothing else dear reader, I hope that I accomplish you to, "Find Your Voice". Your story may be similar to someone else's, but it still comes with it's own original print.

Until next time reader, I hope you use your voice and your story to educate others.

Kelvie Jay