My Secret

I’ve been meaning to spill about this secret since my post about Joanna.  I talked about it in the beginning of that post…you know the one that ate me up from the inside?  But this was not an easy post to write.  I find the topic terrifying.  I also didn’t want to take this post lightly…and so it has taken me a very long time to write. But here goes--my secret:

The only thing worse than something bad happening to you as a child is not talking about what happened to you as a child.  That’s my belief anyway. 

From the age of about three until eight I was molested by my best friends father.  I didn’t tell my parents, or anyone else for that matter. I didn’t tell anyone.  I don’t know why I didn’t tell anyone.  I just didn’t.  

I was determined that I would die with my secret.  I lay in bed at night planning how I would keep the secret.  I thought that perhaps I might need to leave a note, to be read after I died, explaining why I would never talk about my childhood.  The final reveal would come after I had grown old and died.  I suppose I was a planner…even back then :)

By the time I was 13 I was ready for the world to stop so I could get off.  I wasn’t ready to do anything to make it stop, I just wished that it would. 

I was 15 when I realized that if I continued on my current path I would end up in trouble.  

When I was 16 I was ready to talk, I just didn’t know how to start.  I wished that someone would notice that something was wrong with me and ask.  No one ever did. 

My friend Joanna said that the only reason we stop living the lie is when living with the lie is worse than stopping it.  At 17 I wanted to stop living the lie.

So I started to talk and I’ve never looked back. 

There’s something about shining a light in a dark place that makes what is there a whole lot less scary or powerful.  Every time I told someone what happened to me I grew stronger.   That is what truth can do.  Sometimes the thought of being truthful is scary and terrifying, but when we shine a light into those dark corners…whatever is in there suddenly loses it’s power.  

I don’t define myself by what happened to me, because it no longer controls me.  It is a piece of my history, along with many other things.  My secret has shaped me.   It has shaped me as a person and as a parent.  But it doesn’t control me.  I don’t think about it at night.  I don’t even think about it every day.  I can go weeks, even months without ever considering what happened to me as a child.  That is only possible because I stopped fearing it and started talking about it.  I exposed the wound, and by doing so I allowed it to heal.  

I cannot take credit for getting to this place.  I have no explanation for why I was not truly suicidal, or why I didn’t develop an eating disorder or become an alcoholic, or so many other things that are often associated with victims of child abuse.  I do know that somewhere, during those dark nights, I felt that God loved me.  I knew that He had a plan.  That plan involved me staying here, and growing up.  And so I have.  And somewhere along the way He healed my broken heart.  He made me feel loved and beloved and He has given me so much more than I ever imagined possible. 

And that truth isn’t scary at all.   

Joanna

 

Have you ever had a secret that you didn’t want to tell?  One that you thought you would go to the grave with?  I did.  I swore to myself that it would never get out.  And that secret ate me up from in the inside.  Until one day I let it go…little by little.  It’s not a secret anymore and that has made a huge difference in my life.  I’m not going to tell you that secret today (how’s that for drama?), because today’s post isn’t about me. That post is for another day.  I will tell you that when today’s authentic mother offered up the advice to always seek truth, I knew she was for real. 

I have known Joanna for approximately 19 days.  You may scoff and wonder how it is that she inspires me after having known her for 19 days.  You don’t know Joanna yet. 

Just over two weeks ago I stumbled upon Joanna’s blog Single Mom Cooks.  For starters, single mothers always inspire me.   I could not do what they do.  They are super women, but without capes. 

Intrigued by her cooking blog I clicked through to her personal blog Broken and Free. I was blown away by her honesty and her faith.  She is honest and real and true to what is going on in her life right now.  She listed the novel Prayer for Owen Meany as one of her favorite books and has even done a post about lists….her fate was sealed!  Feeling incredibly brave, I sent her an email and she responded.

Joanna is a mother of four children, ages 11 through 20.  She is a single mom, having recently divorced after 20 years of marriage. She describes her marriage as troubled, and getting out of it was no picnic either.  “The financial and personal devastation was enormous but I would still do it again” she said.  Joanna has been through a lot in the last three years and she has so much wisdom from it.   Wisdom she was willing to share.

Our very first telephone conversation centered around authenticity and choosing the difficult path.  When I asked her what advice she would give to women in difficult life situations she provided sage counsel.

My advice is to seek truth.  To ask yourself the hard questions.  “Is my public life the same as my private life?”  I had a lot of anxiety because that wasn’t the case.  I was miserable.

As I said before I had lived out this truth.  I was right there with Joanna.  But what she offered along side it really made me think…made me realize that being real isn’t just about me.  It’s about those around me too.

Authenticity is a such big theme for me because that was the root of the issue in our home.  The front that was presented was not what really played out at home. There was an undercurrent of in-authenticity.  Something didn’t add up and the kids picked up on that.

You mean being real isn’t just about me, it’s also about my kids?!  Kids are so smart.  They see what’s happening.  They can sense a fake a mile away.  I can be going about my day, thinking I’m managing just fine, and my daughter will point out that I must be tired.  “What?” I say, “What makes you think that?”.  She simply observes that my demeanor isn’t the same, that I sigh a lot more.  My daughter is SEVEN.  And she knows.  I have to be real about who I am…if even just for her.

Joanna has found that the rewards of seeking truth, and living authentically far outweigh the risks. 

I have always been a people person, pretty extraverted.  In the last three years I have let my guard down, I have been more truthful than ever.  I have risked people not liking me, or not understanding me.  I have risked the blank stares when someone doesn’t get what I’m talking about.  But I have felt more connected to people and more valued by people than I ever have in my entire life. 

When we’re truthful, people are drawn to it. Not everybody is ready to hear it, but my relationships have been so much richer since I’ve chosen to be a more authentic person. You’re going to block yourself out from people, you’re going to miss out on relationships when you chose to believe the lie, because it’s a barrier. 

I want all of that.  The richer relationships, the connectedness, feeling valued.  How can I choose anything other than authenticity?

Thanks Joanna!