Price of Telling Your Story

I am blocked. It’s not a true writer’s block, more like I might not be ready to deal with the aftermath kinda block. The first eight years, I was able to romanticize the abandonment I felt as a result of both parents not being in my life. I skipped through the sexual molestation I experienced from an early age. I was able to do this because I had a village looking over me and I knew I wasn’t alone and my story wasn’t unique. I had another cousin and friends that were living with their grandparents. Friends who were also touched. This next chapter in my life the support wasn’t there. For the very first time in my life I felt invisible. I went from obnoxious little girl to a shell that retreated to books.

These years are very much a part of my life, but are harder to share. As an adult I now know my story is not unique, millions of children share in this story I’m going to share. I’m not ashamed of my story and wouldn’t change a day of it, but I’m protective of the people that are a part of my story, namely my mother.

Also revisiting the most painful time in my childhood, is emotionally taxing. I might require more time to develop and process each story. I know I only have a handful of readers now, but I respect and appreciate your support and don’t want to be disingenuous.

The story continues…

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