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Ironically, even as an adult I never wanted to get pregnant. Well, it just seemed creepy to me, to have something moving inside me and not be in control of it. I’m so melancholy, even not knowing when I’d go into labor frightened me. And then, you have to actually parent… messing up someone else’s life was the ultimate reason for abstaining from parenthood.
But, don’t you know that God has a sense of humor? (Or, maybe that is how we are supposed to look at it… a great plan of protection is probably more accurate.) During my first pregnancy, I was working at a Crisis Pregnancy Center!!! Let me tell you, I was an office assistant in crisis!! (In years to come, all four of my babies were born by C-section. I knew what day and what time I would go to the hospital and I did not a labor pain in between.) And, I’m OK… I made it!
So…. what’s pregnancy have to do with who I am in my journey?
The women in my support group for sexually abused women, new-found mentors I was blessed to have on my journey and the inspirational speakers that I adored and aspired to be weren’t “there”. By “there”, I mean they were not where I was mentally, spiritually and generally. I admired all of these women so much, but the place where I was getting stuck [in my journey] began to resemble what I had experienced [at this point] twice already – in pregnancy. If you don’t already know, pregnancy is uncomfortable, painful, exhausting, and full of unknowns --- yet, never companionless!! It became more apparent to me as time passed, that although you may be able to relate to someone pregnant [after you’ve been pregnant], after you have gone through labor something happens and you don’t really remember how it [pregnancy] felt to live through anymore. The freedom of labor brings a much bigger gift than the experience of being pregnant.
With this realization, my journaling became more intentional. Not only had I disassociated so much of my life and knew that someday I wouldn’t be able to remember the struggles that haunted me, I was already mindful that there had to be others who felt like I did. --- There had to be other women who weren’t ready yet or couldn’t be freed from the bondage of abuse, yet watched it displayed to them that they could be free. It felt like another lie of life, a discouraging piece of the puzzle called recovery from childhood sexual abuse.
I knew that if I didn’t start writing then, if I waited until I found freedom from the trauma and abuse, I would be skipping the whole process that I felt others were missing! I thought, if I am going to go through all the pain and hard work of recovery, I should use the steps of this journey (not just the destination and a new life) to help others. I hoped that someday, I would find a renewed life and be free from the suffocation and pain of abuse - but, at the same time, it scared me that I wouldn’t remember either (maybe it was just an excuse to stay comfortably where I was, I had lived there my whole life, after all).
I knew I didn’t have a voice… all I had was a whisper. I wasn’t “healed” from this secret disease. I wasn’t the most educated, informed or experience writer. But, I had a reason to write and I wrote as often as I was able. I found strength in thinking about being rescued from Childhood Sexual Abuse. Abuse became my storm of recovery. Victory over my healing was allowing the rain of emotion to fall on me, knowing that the thunder will pass, allowing myself to embrace the times of hibernation and letting my senses being refreshed.
With this I say, it was four years ago that I began to find my voice and share my journey. My name is Rayne... I don’t yet have a story to tell, but I have a journey to share, even if with only a whisper, even only being able to hear the whisper of God’s presence, sometimes a whisper is all you have… sometimes it is all of have the strength to hear.