Letters to My Mother

I knew I liked to write when I was a teenager, locking myself in my room. I was angry, frustrated and needed a positive outlet. I was tired of breaking things. I was sad having to pick up pieces of my little treasures. So I picked up a pencil to write about how I felt and why I was being self-destructive. I was determined to find a way to diffuse the confusion in my head. Taught very early to pray, I'd put my prayers on paper. Seeing something written brought me back into reality. I had a reference point. Something I could read over and over to remind myself who I was and that I would be okay.This is my story of survival. My journey from the traumatic experience of being molested countless times by my step-father while living within the strict religious practices of Jehovah's Witnesses to my healing process with Parents United. I thought my life of confusion, mistrust and low self-esteem could never change. As I got older, I attracted more dysfunction in my choices. I didn't know I could change that. I didn't know any better. I became afraid for my children. I thought I was crazy and didn't have good parenting skills. After years of therapy, I learned to have control over my life and how to take the power back that I kept giving away. I am no longer a victim. It has been a long and twisty road. Today, I am proud to be happy, healthy and productive in my world. I am proud to be a survivor! I hope to inspire others and give them hope that the craziness in their heads can go away. I want to keep talking about this until the cycle is broken and all children are safe.