Telling My Story [entry-title permalink="0"]

This weekend I stood up in front of my core group and guests and told my story. I don’t tell my story much these days as I don’t really “need” to as much but some really wise people have pointed out that others need to hear it and that telling my story is no longer for just me anymore. So here is the video (bottom of the post) of me telling my story as well as the transcript of my speech. 

I am really proud of my presentation. It took 10 months to put it all together in a way that felt right for me.

Thank you for being part of the journey and I hope that I inspire you to truth, love and life regardless of what happened to you as a child.

Transcript:

I want to tell you a story about a little girl.

 

I wish I could tell you about a happy little girl, surrounded by people who loved her and encouraged her to shine her bright light.

 

I wish I could tell you about a little girl who had people meet in the eyes, speak to her as if she were a real person, and respected her boundaries while still allowing her the freedom to feel all of her SELF.

 

I can’t tell you that story.

 

I wish I could.

 

In fact, that story is really the dream she didn’t know she had.

 

But I am going to tell you about this little girl who grew up living in terror, in a very dark apartment in the Bronx.

 

I want to tell you about her because she lived, because she was important despite never being acknowledged as such.

 

 

She grew up, her body perpetually shaking, her breath constantly on hold waiting for the next violation to pass through her sacred little body. There were many violations, daily at the hands of her mother and the 9 men who violated her at various stages of her young life.

 

I do not say 9 to shock you and yet I do want to shock you, cause isn’t it shocking when a little girl must endure the deviancies of 9 men?

 

Isn’t it?

 

I say 9 to make it real because they were real.

 

Every. Single. One of them.

And what they did and what they took….was very real.

 

 

They stole her innocence, her body, her belief in her own goodness, her trust in men, in life, her exploration and development of her sexual being on her own terms.

 

They made her own pleasure, a minefield, full of doubt, and confusion.

 

She never knew own beauty, her own spark. Always believing others had something she would never have.

 

She spent her early years watching and intensely surveying each and everything around her.

 

Was there danger there? Could she be safe here?

 

There weren’t many places where she found comfort and safety and as she grew, she believed that safety was but an illusion. And so she made it her business to just find ways to survive.

 

This was her life for a very long time.

 

She looked at everyone like a threat but secretly hoped there would be safe and loving people, and perhaps she would find them one day.

 

And she did.

 

First the perfect people she needed came and became her self made family. People who taught her about family, love, connection and loyalty..

 

People who would be there for her no matter what.

 

She never knew that kind of love growing up, no one had stood up for her, no one seemed to notice or care about the pain she was in but these people cared, sometimes they cared so much it was uncomfortable for her but she tried to let them love her and relax into their love and eventually she started to feel less alone in the world.

 

Then more people came, people she could tell her stories to, people she could cry and rage in front of, who held her in love, encouraged her to shine her bright light, people who looked her in the eyes and reflected back the beauty they saw there.

 

She started to sense her importance, to feel that she mattered, that she was a real person.

 

These people gave her space to grow, always asked, may I? and gave her the freedom to be her full self and she learned to let them be there, to trust and relax into their love.

 

At some point she started to gather people around her, people with similar childhoods, people she understood deeply.   They all started walking down the path together, their lights getting brighter and brighter the more they shared, the more they shed, the more they supported one another and held each other in love.

 

She became a leader somewhere in there and asked to be trusted and asked others to join her and go deeper and reclaim the parts that were lost so long ago.

And they did, trust her.

 

And helped her heal her own wounds of unimportance.

 

Eventually she started to awaken to her own aliveness, she started to feel herself more, to experience her own heart and beauty and to be less afraid. Soon she went beyond surviving and trying to stay safe and she began to live.

 

She became excited about her own life and she started to trust herself and relax into her own being.

She started to realize her own power, to know that she was not that helpless little girl anymore, that she could rely on herself and that she in fact always held within her the Divine Spark she so desperately sought in others.

 

That little girl and fully alive woman stands before you today, no longer just surviving, but awakened to her own life in ways she never thought possible.

 

And I am forever grateful to the people who came. And to the people who continue to walk with me.

Thank you.