“In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”
Martin Luther King
‘…the silence of our friends’… it’s the silence that keeps gnawing at me. I will get secret messages from family, but not in public, silence, why?
It just dawned on me; it isn’t the silence that’s the problem it’s ME!
It is Me?
I am shocked and amazed that it is Me that keeps them silent, that I am the problem.
I am the one that silences their voices, they don’t want to join theirs with Me.
Me, it’s me…wow.
In a past blog about silence from family, I discovered then that it was easier to be with my father, most actions and words were in support of him, and it is still the same today.
Although I have a few secret members whispering to me, and I did ask them to join me publicly, and all declined.
Declined in fear or in shame of being with me, being seen like me, being grouped with me???
It did feel like I was being denied a friendship…a space remains between us and silence is the wedge that keeps us apart.
At this point I want to acknowledge those of you who bravely stand with me, who are willing and able to raise your voices with mine, to link your names with mine, to publicly be with me as I speak of sexual abuse.
Me a daughter of a pedophile, a victim of abuse, a confused at times, adult woman of incest; that is me!
That is who I am.
I can’t change it.
I am just being myself.
I am publicly writing about how it is to be an openly abused woman.
I understand your silence now and I honor it.
I M perfect, and it’s impossible not to be.
Being imperfect has set me free…
