To my dear broken heart To my dear brothers and sisters, to mothers, fathers, and any caregivers of young, precious, and innocent souls: I feel compelled to write about the vicious and cruel acts that were perpetrated against me. It’s hard to truly be honest about what he’s done to me, especially in a community that chooses sometimes to protect […]

To my dear broken heart

To my dear brothers and sisters, to mothers, fathers, and any caregivers of young, precious, and innocent souls:

I feel compelled to write about the vicious and cruel acts that were perpetrated against me. It’s hard to truly be honest about what he’s done to me, especially in a community that chooses sometimes to protect abusers and put a blindfold over themselves so they won’t know, hear, or see the danger that these perpetrators put on innocent and holy souls. I speak from a place of strength, from a place of courage to expose the truth and to bring awareness.

Unfortunately no one was there to protect me from his vicious hands, although they knew what he was doing.

I speak from a place of deep understanding of the pain it can cause and how much it can shatter. It’s hard for me to wrap my mind around how molestation can harm and kill but I come from a place of experience. It’s not from a professional’s point of view, nor from research. It’s from direct life experience. Sometimes it takes a lot for me to trust myself because I’m feeling so shattered and broken from someone using my body for his own selfish and evil desires.

But today I get it. I understand the severity of what was done to me. When my abuser would molest me, I felt scared. I wanted to run away and break free from him, but he would not let me. He would pin me down until he finished his evil and vicious acts. I froze. My voice was silenced, because if I would scream out in pain he would just come on harder. My voice was choked. Day in and day out my body and soul went through this heart-rending trauma of shutting down my voice, my soul, and my life force. I had to shut it all down. Because when I would be in touch with it, I could not tolerate the pain and I had no way out. Because there was no one to protect me from what was going on.

Today I get it that sexual abuse kills. Your life force is sucked out of you. The perpetrator has the rights over your body and you have no say in the matter.

Now I’m working so hard to find my life force and to take it back. I’ve been living a frozen life. My life force was crushed and I was afraid to have a voice. When I would start feeling connected to my life force I would feel guilty, selfish, mean, evil, scared, and ashamed. My abuser instilled in me that being in my own body and being in touch with who I am and what I want is wrong.

That he is the owner of my body.

Today I feel driven to stop holding on to that belief. I want my LIFE FORCE BACK that was stolen from me at a very young age. I want to feel okay feeling my body and being okay with who I am. I’m not going to hold on to this secret anymore. I will hand over the evilness and shame to my abuser. He should be ashamed of himself, not me. I did nothing wrong while he tried killing me alive. But today I’m glad to say I’m alive and I’m committed to connecting to my soul and life force and that means that all the negative emotions that he instilled in me I will hand back to him. In fact, all the negative messages that the community directs to survivors who have the courage to heal, I will give back. I have nothing to be ashamed of. I was hurt from my abuser and I’m taking back my rights. All the unnecessary shame that others direct to survivors, I will not accept!



That means that I will protect others from my abuser and spread awareness of the effects of unwanted and unwelcome touch and molestation.

Morning dawns and the world is full of light and free from darkness. I awake with feelings of darkness, gloom, and heaviness. My heart is heavy full of shame, carrying a dirty, despicable, and shameful secret. It’s been sitting in there for thirty years, accumulating lots of dust and mold. It stinks. It needs a way out from this hidden space. It needs to be aired out, cleaned and washed out. It needs to be repaired with lots of love, warmth, attention, and time. My heart is holding onto the secret of my hurtful torment that was inflicted on me for ten years. It’s been broken, stepped on, shattered, shamed, all to extinguish its beauty and innocence. It’s feeling really neglected and abused.

I talk to it gently. “My dear broken heart, good morning! How can I be of service to you today? How can I help you heal?”

“Well, my dear keeper, I want to be heard. I want to talk about all the pain I’ve been through. I don’t want to be silenced anymore. I want my voice, and vibrancy back. I want to be cleaned from all the dirt and mold that has been accumulating and manifesting onto me. I want to be clean. I want to be aired out. That’s all I want. I want you to respect me with love me and promise me that you’ll never abandon me again. That’s what I want. I want to live with you in peace and be one with you.”

I feel that keeping the secret of my abuser’s actions is holding on to the shame. Owning the shame. But the act of being abused is HIS shame! He should be ashamed of what he did! Not ME! I repeat, this is not MY shame!

I am proud to say I SURVIVED! He took so much away from me and despite all that I persevered and prevailed and I will continue doing that. I believe in my gut that God does not want molesters to have the upper hand; he wants them to be stopped. But if we don’t expose their deeds, then we are giving them the right to continue, we are supporting their actions by saying that this is okay and we will guard your secret.

But I can’t live in harmony anymore with this secret and protect it. I will be honest and true to myself and to the world, I will tell them that what happened is real. If I could prevent even one kid from going through what I did or if I could give the courage to even one survivor to continue being a survivor and to not giving up this battle, then I believe my mission will be accomplished.

Every time I protect this secret and don’t share what has happened to me and the repercussions of molestation I become depressed. This secret has to leave my body. It needs to go back to its owner, which is my abuser not me. I don’t own these vicious acts. I’m innocent. I will not buy into what others have to say about talking about this topic. I will listen to God’s word and my soul’s calling and be honest that molestation is damaging! It kills souls! It kills lives! It’s an epidemic that needs to be eradicated!

No one likes to give vaccinations to their kids for immunity. But what’s the alternative? One rabbi, who wanted to cover up my abuse, told me when I told him I’ve been molested that he doesn’t want to hear more. That it’s dirty and he does not want to hear dirty stories! I ask you – is this Gods will? Should I hold on to someone else’s dirty deeds, and not have anywhere to put it except to direct it inwards, towards myself? I can’t hold onto this secret anymore! It makes my stomach ache. It needs to go. I believe that I need to be honest with myself and give all the garbage back to its owner. I can’t have my little girl believe or feel anymore that this was her fault in any way. I can no longer identify myself as being dirty. When I say I was molested I feel shame and disgust. I suck it up like it’s my fault that this happened to me. I’m done doing that and I’m handing it back to its owner. I will not keep this secret in secrecy anymore. It will no longer be a secret. It will be revealed and directed to its right owner which is my abuser, not me.

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