Tuesday, March 15, 2011
"Picture Me Blue No More" the movie,The official movie website has been launched at http://www.onyxpearl.com/picturemebluenomore.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Conversations with God
When I was being abused, I can’t tell you how many times I questioned God about why it was me who was going through so much pain and agony. I asked Him, Lord why me? Did I do something to make him (the abuser) want me? Is it possible, at the tender age of 3, I gave him the OK to touch me like that? What could I have done differently? Or, was he just sick, like the rest of them?
That very day, when I was first abused, the veil of my innocence was ripped from me, and my life was never the same. No one asked my permission to take from me something that was supposed to be so beautiful – to be shared by a man and his wife. For me, it was made to be so ugly, over and over again - too many times to count.
What was I supposed to do now? Who was I supposed to tell? I had no one I felt I could trust. All I could do was lie there and cry...Lord, why didn't you stop him? God, was I born to die? Was I born to be cursed?
I wanted so badly to be like the little girl next door, dressed in her little white dress with no worries, no fears. I would watch through the window of our home as her daddy held her small hands. I envied her. Yet, a part of me, a dark sort of doubt created after the abuse, always wondered how things really were behind closed doors at her house.
Deep within me I knew her daddy loved her with a pure heart. I could tell because of her love for him. It showed in how she looked at him. She would look up at him as if he were her hero.
Lord knows I wanted that so bad. Now here I was tossed into adulthood, much too soon, with wisdom far beyond my tender age. I was able to see the heart of evil from afar - a gift I didn't want because, at that time, I didn’t know what to do with it.
I even had suicidal thoughts and attempted to take my own life several times during adolescent and young adulthood.
Thank God, He saved me. He had a greater purpose for me that my finite mind could never have imagined or seen while I was going through the turmoil of abuse. But, through His mercy and grace, He revealed to me a greater purpose for my life.
He filled me with a thirst, a hunger to know more about how He would use little ol’ me for His will and His glory. That revelation set me in motion on my journey to investigate and question my purpose and the lives of those who had influenced my life from the beginning.
A Story That Must be Told
I started to journal my thoughts, experiences and spiritual revelations as I grew in my walk with God. It became clear to me that one of the purposes He had for me was to help others who had also suffered from abuse. That meant finding a way, a vehicle, to get the message out to the millions of people who need or have a desire for liberation from their past. Until liberation comes, living a happy, healthy, full life is not possible.
I knew that I needed to write my story in the form of a book. I could see it, feel it. But, though God had given me many gifts, writing was not one of them, having dropped out of school in the sixth grade. I was a much better speaker. That’s when divine intervention came in, again, to carry me through.
By now, my spiritual relationship had grown so intimate with God that I knew His voice and knew to obey Him. No longer did I rely so heavily on my own strength or understanding. Through much prayer and forgiveness, I learned to trust Him. I knew He would provide the resources I needed to complete what He had destined for me to do.
God told me that He was going to move my family and me from where we were living at the time, but I didn’t know why. Being obedient and trusting Him, we packed up our household goods, not even knowing when or where we were going to be moved. We took a trip to Indianapolis to visit relatives, including my Aunt Sharon Chinn, and later moved there.
Aunt Sharon and I became close and I told her that I was writing a book about my life. At that time, I discovered that she had the gift of writing, so we partnered to complete it. Once again, ours was a divine connection. God had filled a gap.
Writing the book was extremely painful. The process brought back to my remembrance specific details of my life over the years. I had to dig so deep and conjure up events and feelings that I had long left behind. Albeit painful, it was therapeutic as well.
It was God who led me on this path. And now, just as He planned, the book is having a phenomenal impact on many, many people.
If you or someone you know is the victim of abuse, TALK TO SOMEONE. At a minimum, journal your feelings, emotions, and experiences. It is highly cleansing.
Molestation Without Penetration
An inappropriate touch, exposing or touching of genitals, words of seduction, lustful stares, witnessing sexual acts – IT’S ALL MOLESTATION! Molestation does not necessarily mean penetration.
Although the abuse inflicted upon me was penetration, I always felt that molestation came in many deceitful forms. If it has the potential to rob the sexual innocence of a child, it is molestation.
Sexual child predators often disguise their lust for children, placing themselves in positions of authority over children - a college professor, high school coach, Sunday school teacher, Boy Scouts leader, priest or pastor.
We have to mandate, as a global nation, that we must be vigilant when it comes to protecting our children. We must prevent, expose, and eradicate these abuses. When we do nothing about it and remain silent, then we become enablers, who consequently become just as guilty as the abusers themselves! That’s the harsh reality of these heinous crimes. It’s a double-edged sword - the decision to expose abuse or to remain silent about it. Either way, someone will suffer. Shouldn’t it be the abuser?
It’s been difficult for adults who were abused as children to talk about their abuse because of the shame they feel, yes, but also because they may not want to expose the perpetrator who may likely be a family member, professor, coach, teacher, priest, pastor, or some other form of leader held in high regards by society.
We must choose the side of truth to save our children, first and foremost, and, ultimately, to save our very souls! Regardless of what is done in darkness, it will be exposed by light.
Family Secrets Revealed
Until I become an adult, I did not know anything about my mother’s childhood and young adulthood. She never talked about it. I didn’t know if she had a relationship with her family or not. She never talked about it. I didn’t know who raised her. She never talked about it.
What I did know is that she constantly made bad choices in her relationships with men. I know, in my heart, that she knew I was being abused. But, either driven by fear of her boyfriend, my abuser, who used to beat her on a regular basis, or resignation, as some of the older members of the family had, she either could not face it, or tried to pretend it wasn’t happening.
Even at a young age, something in me knew that she didn’t want me to tell her because that would force a decision on her that she didn’t want to make - maybe, couldn’t make. The decision to leave her boyfriend was not one she could probably fathom at that time.
In time, I had a desire to know her past so that I could better understand her and her actions. What I found out by talking with her family, who I sought out, is that she was abandoned by her mother at birth and raised on the streets by strangers.
When she was an adult, her mother was murdered at the hands of her husband and my mother had to identify the body - it was chopped into pieces. Discovering my mother’s history helped me to forgive her for allowing me to suffer.
During the time I was being abused, I never told my mother what I was going through for several reasons. My siblings and I were all so scared to tell anything about what my abuser was doing that none of us talked about it. It was a family secret.
I didn’t want to bring more hurt on my mother, whom I adored, than she was already suffering at the hands of her boyfriend. To make matters worst, she had become hooked on drugs, no doubt to escape the pain of her life.
I am just grateful that she no longer has a drug addiction, and hasn’t for some years, and that I have the wisdom now to know why such an admission about my childhood sexual abuse would be more than devastating for her. She is my mother after all, and I will always love her.
A Family Curse Broken
I began to question my relatives, starting with my mother, about her life. And though she would not, or rather could not tell me much about her life, I believe, because she was still traumatized by it, I found out through other relatives about her inauspicious beginnings – as a newborn, thrown in the garbage outside a hospital and found; tossed from home to home, without growing up or knowing what the love of a family was really like; abused by men, herself, and Lord only knows, who else.
Beyond my mother’s history, as I questioned other members of her family, some of them had also been sexually abused. Their lives were also affected by the abuse – drug addiction, picking the wrong mates, multiple divorces, etc.
I wanted to know why no one came to my rescue as a child. I soon learned that with older members of the family, there was a resignation. One family member summed up their resignation when she told me, “That’s just the way it was back then”. As you can imagine, that wasn’t good enough for me. It was no excuse to perpetuate perversion of your own flesh and blood.
Through God’s grace and mercy, I, and other members of the family who suffered, have all come through this and are living wholesome lives, for the most part. Some still have problems, but most are trying to put the past behind them. For me, the past became a compulsion to never let another member of my family, or the world family, go through this ever again!
Being Sexually Abused Changed My Life
There is no way around it – sexual abuse does impact your life. For me, I became sexually active and pregnant at a very young age. I had bouts with depression and anxiety more times than I can even mention. And I was, indeed, addicted to drugs at various times in my life.
Of course, I picked the wrong men too, who, in some ways had even greater problems than I had. There is no doubt that there are residual effects that are always there once a person, male or female, has been sexually abused.
Like me, many become addicted to alcohol, drugs, or have some other dependency. Some become extremely promiscuous without knowing why. Many bury the abuse deep in the recesses of their minds because they are shamed by it, or just don’t want to relive the pain.
That was my life for a while. Even though many have gone on with their lives and put the past behind them, it is not until they, as I, face their past and exorcise those demons that they become truly free to enjoy the lives we all deserve.
My advice to anyone of sexual abuse is to first know that it wasn’t your fault. Know that the abuser is to blame. They committed the crime, not you. Know that the depression and anxiety that you have gone through is a normal consequence of being abused. Know that the best therapy to recover from abuse is to talk about it. Know that there’s a greater purpose for your life. And, most importantly, know that God loves you. Commune with Him to discover His divine purpose for your life.
