Courage from Pain

Your picture is available on facebook. Every time I look at your face, I feel as if I've taken a punch to the stomach. I quite literally feel the pain of your very existence in my life. And everytime I read your wife's statuses I am reminded of how weak she is and how greatly you have conditioned her mind to be solely devoted to you. I look into your eyes in your photograph and I remember the way they told me it was time. I see your smile and I know your teeth are all fake and I can feel your lips on my body. I see that you've lost weight and I can imagine you feel pretty good about yourself. I see the glasses set on your face held in position by your large nose and I see your age and my stomach churns with acid.


Slowly, this happy face of yours reveals the monster that lurks just beneath the surface. I don't know why I look at your picture because every time I do, the fear and shame come rushing to the surface. Your very picture ruins my day and I am doomed to spend the next few hours fighting depression - hoping to succeed and not have to deal with the pain any longer than needed.


And because of the emotions that come from looking at the picture of your evilness, I gain strength knowing that I can fight and overcome you. I must put aside the thoughts regarding my family and how they will respond. I must put aside the feelings that I get when I think about how this will cause drama in their lives. None of them even suspect that I am about to fight you, harder than you've ever been fought. For I am no longer a trapped 11 year old girl fighting for survival. I am a strong, woman of God who knows that what was done to her was extremely wrong. Since the truth has come out, you've been victorious in keeping me from knowing true, unconditional love from my family members. 5 years later, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that God loves me enough to perfectly orchestrate the persons who will be in the court room with us. I know that somehow, all of this is going to work out because God is in control and He is the One that wants this.



I can't believe its been 6 years since I've been home, since I've been in the same room with you, since I've even spoken your name. In February it will be 6 years since your wife called me, finally knowing the truth about you and telling me that I had just ruined her life. Though, it only seems to have gotten better for the two of you and my mother is now more dependent on you than she's ever been. My heart breaks into a million pieces when I think about all the pain you have caused me and my family. The very thought of going through with this legal process, brings back all the fears that you once controlled me with.

However, this pain that rips apart the center of my soul is exactly what drives me forward. I am pursuing this with God on my side, determined to do all that I can to keep more little girls from the same fate. The wound that bleeds from the simple image of your face is exactly what pushes me towards complete healing. I know that God will be standing next to me, holding me firm and upright as I do what He has asked of me. Through the pain, I am given courage to fight. I am taking back my voice and the control and God is the One I choose to please.

Its been 8 years...

The last time I saw my father, we ended up getting pulled over by the cops. My sister and I sat on the ground while the cops searched his car and decided that he would not be able to drive anymore. They had us call our aunt to come pick us up and they took him to the metro station. My aunt had horrible things to say about him while talking to my mother on the phone, updating her on how much of a loser our father is.

Then we visited this family that we grew up with. The girl that was my age had a baby prematurely, so I spent time in the hospital with her and the baby girl. The family was in the midst of a divorce. The older brother was a drug addict. The younger girl, probably followed in their steps. I don't even know their knows anymore.

We went to a few movies and that was it. 7 1/2 years later, he wants to see me. I thought it was longer than that, because I honestly don't remember visiting during high school, but apparently I did. Which makes a little bit of sense considering I did see my grandmother before she died, and she was sick at the time - so I was 15 or 16, not 13 or 14 like I thought.

Tomorrow night, I will see the man who handed me over to my mother's husband without ever really looking back. He wanted that man to adopt us, so he wouldn't be responsible for us financially - not like he ever paid anyways. I will see the face that goes with my the voice on the other end of the phone every couple of months for 10 minutes. This man who abused my mother and neglected us kids. Tomorrow I will have dinner with a man who my siblings hate. Tomorrow I will sit across the table from the person who did not protect me against the evil man my mother married.

I pray the weather is good and driving is not a problem...if I have to, I know backroads from half way of my trip to meet him.

I feel so emotionally drained already and I still have counseling and haven't even seen him yet. Geez. I hope this is the right thing to do. Maybe we'll get a freak blizzard and they'll cancel on me. I wouldn't be totally disappointed with that, especially since the weekend is going to be crazy weather. Sadness has quite a hold on me lately.