I was raised in a broken home with little to no adult care or supervision. My parents divorced when I was 7 years old. My mother had a boyfriend who abused my brother and me verbally, physically, emotionally, psychologically, and mentally (and me sexually) on a daily basis in order to establish his power and dominance (and our weakness and submission).
A Life of Abuse
My mother’s boyfriend exacted a variety of tactics to ensure my silence about his sexual abuse, including force, coercion, fraud, and intimidation, along with threats of violence against my loved ones. He married my mother when I was almost 10, despite her knowledge of his abhorrent behavior. This produced deep feelings of betrayal toward her, the woman who was supposed to protect and care for me. The abuse continued until we escaped when I was 14 years old.
The psychological and emotional abuse I endured was just as intense as the physical and sexual abuse. I learned to stuff my feelings and believed the lie that I was stupid, useless, and good for nothin’. My abuser repeatedly told me so. By the time I was 10, I was a textbook example of a high-risk child. As I became a 14-year-old, I knew what it was like to almost be pulled into prostitution; and how an abuser could control someone’s life. Thankfully, that never came to pass.
To survive in this unrelenting environment, I learned to acquiesce and apologize – endlessly apologize – for everything. I apologized for not being smart enough, not playing the piano like a virtuoso as a child, not being pretty or good enough, and for being born.
My Voice
My voice was silenced well into my adult life, but something shifted in my fifties. I learned the power of “no.” This simple 2-letter word is not only a complete sentence, it’s my right to speak it to establish healthy boundaries. I can use it to stop apologizing for not being perfect or even for my existence. While I haven’t always been able to master this skill for myself, I found it easy to be unapologetic against the abuse of the innocent and the vulnerable. And I became unapologetic — Unapologetically for the children™.
I found my voice. I will use it, unapologetically for the children —to break the chains of silence. Let’s challenge oppressive norms and create a world where every child can be heard, valued, protected, and loved.
Until I began researching child sex trafficking, I was unaware that my childhood experiences parallelled the lives of many victims. As a survivor, I hope to help vulnerable children, and those waiting to be heard and waiting for justice.
Join the Journey
Join me in these uneasy but transformational conversations to reshape our understanding of culture, childhood, authority, compassion, courage, and hope. Let’s learn to flourish despite our painful experiences.
We can go on this journey together, championing the dignity of humanity. Be hands and feet helping victims and survivors find redemption and renewal. Help them experience the triumphant victory of their human spirit.
