This was originally posted on September 22, 2018 on Quora as an answer to the question posed to me: “As a child, what was the most disgusting thing you ever witnessed?”
From the time I was two years old, my parents occasionally left me and my younger siblings with my maternal grandparents while they went on interviews and business trips.
Though my Grandpa Scott was small (about five foot six), he suffered tremendous sexual oppression which expressed itself as pedophilia. I became one of what would become several “casualties” whose little body and mind suffered greatly at his hands. Although I have understanding and no judgment of him now, my life was profoundly launched in a very necessary direction because of my early interactions with him.
In my own way, I protested these visits, but was never “heard.” I remember mixed experiences with him growing up. He would spend time interacting with me and my (eventual) siblings. However, I most often felt very uncomfortable and confused in his presence. Throughout my adult years, as I would further let go of any and all unforgiveness and judgment, my veil would be lifted and I would have pieces of my early memories come back to me, giving me more perspective and enlightenment concerning “me” and my early and until-then forgotten pieces of life.
One important and helpful memory that I recovered through my dedicated exercises in forgiveness in order to promote my own emotional and physical healing involved my grandpa. Growing up, I did not like being alone with him, feeling a lot of confusion, pain and shame when he was near … AND regarding my body. I saw how as a very young child he had scared me into secrecy of what he would do to my body with stories of how “that man, Jesus” (pointing to a painting of Jesus done in dark hues hanging at the top of their flight of stairs), “who is in that picture up there, would come to (me) and do (some pretty gruesome things) to (me) and (my) family” if I ever told what was happening.
Well, I didn’t tell. At least for a while. I just endured, while part of my exuberant spirit “checked out.”
There came a day that I could no longer contain my “secret.” I now had a little baby sister, and I was a big three years old. We were being “watched” by my Scott grandparents. I had been sitting alone, cross-legged on their wooden living room floor, looking at picture books, when a beautiful, tall lady came to me across the room with a radiant smile. She had long brown hair that reached below her shoulders, and she wore a gloriously white, long gown that shimmered baby blue as she moved. I knew her as well as I knew anyone in my life, yet this was my first mortal experience with her.
My “Angel Friend” smiled as she held out her right hand to me and non-verbally indicated, “Come.” I trustingly took her hand with my hand and followed her up the stairs. As we passed the dark brown picture of Jesus, I instinctively cringed from the imprinting my grandfather had given me about “that man.” She, however, smiled reassuringly a great sense of peace to me and I knew then that I would be safe as I passed. She led me down the hallway and then stopped in front of a closed bedroom door. Although she did not verbally tell me to open the door, I intuitively knew that she had an assignment for me and that I was to go, without her, inside the room.
What I saw as I opened that door horrified me! There was my precious baby sister, Melanie, lying on a table with her diaper nearly off, while my grandfather stood over her, his back to the door. I screamed at him, “You get away from my baby sister!” as I ran to him, kicking and swinging my arms. I punched him in the stomach as he grabbed both of my wrists. That’s the last I remember of that part of the experience.
I decided then, though, that no matter what my grandpa or “that man Jesus” did to me; I MUST tell someone what was happening. Sometime later I went up to my father while he was seated on a green plaid sofa. (I must have felt that he was the most available and safe person to confide this secret to.) I told him in my three year old vocabulary what my grandfather was doing, and with what parts of my body. I also tried communicating what I had seen that involved my baby sister in attempts to hopefully spare her similar experiences. I felt courageous and determined, for her sake!
However, instead of the comfort and love and the rescuing of my little sister and me, my father told me to stop talking like that, it was nasty! He said that I should be ashamed of myself. This was my grandpa that I was talking about! It was my duty to “honor” my grandfather!
When I would not stop, but was even more adamant, repetitively trying to get him to listen to, believe and help us, my dad became livid. I realize now that he felt scared and helpless. Hearing and dealing with something like this was way out of his comfort zone and he was just not prepared to listen to and act with any amount of compassion or protection. He began shaming me and proceeded to repeatedly spank me and wash my mouth out with soap, heatedly demanding that I shut my mouth and stop talking. I finally did.
This was a very traumatic experience for a young girl. The harm that came to me from disclosing something painful to someone that I was looking to for help, only to be shamed and condemned by my looked-to “savior,” allowed for me to make choices that would greatly impact the rest of my life. Obviously, it was all allowed and even “meant” to be for some important experiences and understandings to be able to manifest within my future life.
To the degree that I prepared myself and desired all the Truth about myself, both in this life and prior experiences, my memories have been returned. Softly, gently, and in their own time. Grateful to understand “ME,” I have applied the principles of non-judgment and forgiveness, while learning that peace requires me to stand up and wisely utilize my understandings in the service of others.
Although no child should ever have to have their childhood and their self-respect and their voice stripped away from them, my path has led me to peace and gratitude for the compassion and wisdom that I gained from these harrowing experiences. Yes, my life has taken a different path than it might otherwise have, but I am stronger, wiser, and yes, even grateful for the difficulties that have been my “stepping stones.”
There are some who, to this day, take offense at my voice and what comes out. My “father” still attempts to shame me into further silence and control. Many have no interest in the Truths that are mine to share. But I do. I have regained my confidence and am re-claiming my voice, my wonderful, pure, passionate voice that desires to help and lift and protect and heal all who are ready for ever higher levels of Truth. Although there are some who still attempt to dominate and subjugate those of us with stories to tell, they are losing ground fast. Oh, how I look for the day when the secret intentions of all hearts are manifest and each and every soul will know the desires of my heart… and their own.
I no longer am silent. I WILL speak up for the down-trodden and voice-less. Though I smile and might gently respond to others who are (unknowingly) blind and even (willingly) turning a deaf ear to the plights of the helpless, the trafficked and “weak,” I will not. I cannot.
Yes, this, too, is L.O.V.E.
Today, many who believe they “love” me do not even know me. They do not know what I have lived through and would rather live on the surface, façade level of relationships. Because they do not know me and my story, they do not know theirs. This is NOT L.O.V.E. At least, not the love that I desire to live.
I want transparency! I want self-respect for every living breathing being. But this self-respect can only happen as those of us who SEE become vocal and utilize our lives in ways that put an end to the “secret combinations” of men protecting men and their secret perversions.
How can humanity believe it is celebrating the birth of a Baby during this Christmas season when they ignore the cries of other helpless little ones? They can not, and they don’t. At least, not the Christ I know.
But, with all the breath within me, I will continue to use my voice to “overthrow the money changers” and those who wield power over the meek of the earth, exposing the deceptions and vows of secrecy rampant, especially in high places. Yes, this is L.O.V.E.
“Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these, my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”
In my pursuit of Real Truth, I have given up everything. Crawling through the “eye of the needle,” I have learned the *mysteries* and am now giving my life to assist YOU to dis-cover Who *YOU* really are, along with your unique gift to offer humanity. As you learn to seek (in the right place and with purified intent), you WILL find treasures of lasting value, along with every promised reward. Together, we will establish a society of humane beings and live life ALIVE, on PURPOSE, and with a sociality unequaled… because we will each BE and view each other as equally and profoundly DIVINE! Please… catch this Hope and Vision and join with me.