My #MeToo

Well let me start with this: I was sexually abused as a child. There I said it or at least wrote it. I’ve only said it a few times and I’m (very) old (feeling).

When this hashtag movement started it gave me, what I would consider, a PTSD kind of feeling. I don’t mean to downplay PTSD and I don’t pretend to “have” it like a Veteran does, but I started having flashbacks to things that I have consciously tried to not think about for about 28 years and I was having physiological responses. My stomach hurt, I was sweating, my head hurt etc. I didn’t and still do not want to talk about it or think about it. This movement kind of sucks, right? Have you seen all of the #MeToo’s? I have.

But let’s get to the point of this post. I had to write about it and I have to talk about it. I have kids. I have to tell them that no one can touch them or hurt them. And if someone did, then they have an open door to tell me about it and that there is no shame. That if something like that ever happened to them it is not their fault. The actions of the aggressor was/were/is plain evil. They know about evil, they see it. I had this talk with my daughter and her eyes welled up with tears thinking about me being a little four year old girl getting hurt, it was sad and it hurt me to have to say it out loud, but now she knows that it can happen but it doesn’t have to be a secret for 28 years and it doesn’t have to happen to her because we talked about keeping ourselves safe.

Back to #Metoo, I don’t know why this one guy in Hollyweird (H.W.) was allowed to hurt so many people. Then again, I never told anyone and I was four. When my kids were four they talked so much I couldn’t get them to stop to eat or sleep….and I kept my little innocent mouth shut. I just recently even told my mom. I think The Lord knew it was time, that I was ready. I am thankful that I am ready, it only took about three decades…some of use mature faster than others.

When I told my mom who it was she knew him. I don’t know his name and I would like to keep it that way. I think I am blessed (in several ways) because he wasn’t a family member, he was a neighbor of my grandma. My mom also told me that he was a “junkie” and that he died a few years ago. Again, I feel like that is a blessing because I have this weird thing with integrity and character I would have needed to confront him and pray with him and then probably kick him. Or worse, let’s be honest. I pray that he didn’t hurt anyone else all those years ago. My mind thinks, maybe he died young wouldn’t that be great…but that just seems wrong too.

So to wrap it up, when you see the #MeToo posts don’t do what I did, don’t dismiss them, think they should’ve named their attacker, or think they’re out for attention. Because if this garners any attention it isn’t the kind that I want. Also, have the talk with your kids, girls and boys. My friend Christa runs a child safety center in my hometown and she has some resources available to have this hard talk with kids (click on talk and it will take you to their site). And if you are like me and started having PTSD-like feelings, it really does help to talk (or write) about it. Now is the time, I think.

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