You Can Make a Difference

WARNING****CONTAINS SEXUAL CONTENT AND EXPLICIT LANGUAGE****

Bitter Memories: A Memoir of Heartache & Survival took 40 + years to complete. Each time I sat down to write, the memories became overwhelming and I couldn't continue.

For years I tried to write my story as fiction, denying those things happened to me. But, the fiction didn't work. I wasn't telling the truth and truth meant so much to me. I’d lived a life full of nothing but hurt and lies, so how could I tell my story if it was all a lie?

I tried to clean up the language, but that also didn't work. I finally realized I had to keep the words I heard day in and day out, and I had to keep the events as I remembered, partly to keep the truth in my story, but also because there is no way to “sugarcoat” child abuse.

Still I struggled to write what had happened to me. Totally frustrated, I decided to change my name. Everyone else had a different name to protect their identity, so why shouldn't I have a different name, too? Of course, I never expected to publish what I was doing. I was writing to find healing and forgiveness for myself. I was sick and tired of living a life full of hate. For years I had so much hate toward the ones who hurt me, and that hate was destroying any chance of me finding happiness.

By changing my name to Sarah I found I was able to pull back and look at what I was writing through Sarah’s eyes. I was then able to face everything that had happened to me. My Sarah was like an imaginary friend guiding me to do what I knew I had to do.

Deep down I always knew I needed to talk about what happened. I needed to admit I was a survivor of child abuse. I needed to find a path toward healing my shame. Yes, shame. I blamed myself for what happened. I felt ashamed and I felt dirty. I felt I was a “bad” kid and that’s why Daddy, his brother and so many more did those things to me.

However, with Sarah’s help, I was able to look at my feelings. I was able to face all the horrible things done to me. But no matter what went down in black and white, I thought I still loved my father. And I hated myself for that! Over the years as more and more memories returned, I began to hate him even more than I hated myself for loving him.

The things he did to me; the things he allowed others to do to me, were unforgivable.

A parent is supposed to protect their children, not hurt them or abuse them. I had to face the fact that my father wasn't one of the good parents. He was cruel. He only cared about himself and his own needs that he forced me to fulfill. Once I faced up to the fact of who my father really was, amazingly, I stopped hating him.

When I finally finished writing about my horrific life, I found what I needed. With the hate gone from my heart my life began to improve so much that I knew I couldn't keep my story to myself any longer. I prayed by sharing what happened to me it would help others survivors still suffering. I hoped it would help save another child from abuse. What happened to me was extreme abuse, but it doesn't take extreme to mess up a kid’s head.

Not long after my book came out, my prayers were answered. I received a message from a reader after she’d finished my first book. I learned all the pain I had to relive during the writing was worth it, because one survivor came forward. She had been helped! She found her path toward healing!

By reading what happened to me, she realized she was not alone and healing was possible for her, too. Today she is living the life she’d been denied for so long. She is happy, maybe for the first time in her life.

Since that first message I have received many more messages thanking me for having the courage to tell my story; thanking me for helping them.

I've also received messages from people who didn't know the damages child abuse could do to a kid until they read my heartbreaking story. These people are now more aware of the children around them. They are aware of the signs that a child is possibly being abused. They can now help prevent child abuse just from their knowledge learned by reading my story.

Hearing these fantastic stories from my readers met what I originally hoped and prayed to achieve by sharing my life, but I have received so much more than I asked for in the beginning. I have received the best gift of all — everyone of these wonderful people who contacted me are now lifelong friends. What more could I ask for?

To learn more about my story, please visit my website. Read the bitter memories series, then tell others about my story. By you helping spread the word, knowledge will change the lives of so many still suffering; so many still being abused.

Please help make my other dream come true. Join me to help prevent other children from having to learn what child abuse feels like. Together we can make a difference in a child’s life.

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