Just another stolen innocence…

I was only 9.   I call it the year my innocence was stolen from me. And all it really took was one time.

I didn’t know the real impact on me, and my life, until my early 20’s.

And the past 10-13 years, through my PTSD and OCD, I relive the exact moment as a nightmare: the confusion of what was happening, the disappointment from someone I trusted, the discomfort, the shame, the shock,  all of it, over and over and over again.

Do not know what it means to be loved.  Too numb….still frozen all these years.

Perhaps that is what led to the other stuff. A pattern of frozen-ness.  I became an “easy target.”

We wonder what our lives would be like if we switched out just one activity or chore for something else. Chose to walk a different route that day, that moment.

It hurts because “this” happens…this actually happens…not in our heads, not in the movies, not in the literature, but to us, our family, our friends, our neighbors.

We never want pity. We just want to understand.  At least I yearned to understand.

In part: why me?

In part: why then?

In part: why him?

In part: good it was me and not certain others I loved.

In part: why I have chosen forgiveness and mercy.

I don’t need anyone to understand this pain or to pity me, because it is a pain so many in some ways understand. Someone you trust tries to control and overpower you and use that trust to their personal advantage. ….Take advantage of your vulnerability and “naivety.”

I remain hurt. I may always remain hurt. It has shaped so much of my life. Taken so much of my youth. I hurt for myself, and I hurt for all my brothers and sisters, with a stolen innocence.  And though we cannot and must not remain “victims,” it is okay to wallow in the sadness from time to time, as long as we can emerge from it, a little bit stronger, each time.

I am always so vocal, I am such an open book, on several taboo issues,  but when it comes to this, as much I want to, I can never say too much.

You can probably tell by comparing the word count of this post to that of my other posts.

I can only study and educate based on secondary data and research, using it to empower me to speak for silenced voices, while I remain silenced for a certain violence against me. And I can’t say anymore.

But when the silence gets louder and louder, you break.

And perhaps for now,  that is enough said.


Peace, warmth, blessings,

Your Elsa

Warrior KQueen

Please follow and like us:

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *