What you can expect from me writing through the lens of sexual abuse is this: It’s not perfect. It’s not often pretty. But it’s honest. It’s my start, and it’s rough, just like most beginnings are.
Take Lotus flowers, for instance. They start out in the muck at the bottom of brackish bodies of water. The bulbs bloom only after they struggle on their stem up, up, up through the muck and make a journey to the surface.
Only once they have broken through and cleared the filth do they unfold their beautiful flower petals.
Pure and clean in their space, their petals never need to touch the water because of the strong stalk and bulb protecting them through the journey. Clean and pure, they are safe to enfold in the sunlight.
That pretty much symbolizes my journey through the trauma of sexual abuse. If I’m going to help myself (and others) find a place to heal, then I’ve gotta get real. Raw. Authentic. These topics really are me. They are the questions and answers I’ve come up with to deal with my life. They are the topics I’ve smacked up against, and railed against, and worked against until I’ve started embracing them. Now I acknowledge them in order to open the space for practical, honest conversations. It is my own fucked up, perfect survivor-celebration-story.
If I interview others or bring in other writing, it’s because they’ve had similar or additional experiences and it would serve to talk about them. A wise man once said, “You’re only naked if you’re not comfortable in your own skin.” Touche, Mark. As naked as I’ve felt in the past, I’m getting comfortable now.
He also said that people are crying out for authenticity. So strap in. Strap on. Strap up. You are getting complete disclosure, which should have happened a long time ago. Hell, it should have happened for everyone a long time ago. Some parents and educators may disagree, but I’m a poster child for what happens when being “inappropriate” is more important than being honest. I’ll change names and identifying information when needed, but that’s it.
I’m tackling topics about the lens that this particular trauma throws into my everyday life. Currently, that includes me as a woman, a wife, a mom, a business owner, a sibling, and daughter. It tackles sexuality, sensuality, body image and self-esteem. This lens twists and warps the ordinary and can come out of nowhere. And I don’t see many tools on how to deal with the ordinary.
Let me know if there are topics you’d like to tackle, too. The lotus flower that is my journey is starting to unfold, and I’d love some company.
T.N. Kelley Writes 