Anyone else feeling like 2020 is more than seeing things more clearly, but also about finding their voice?
I have finally found my voice this year. Working with my coach to pinpoint exactly who I am and what I want out of life has helped me significantly. I am so happy to finally share things that matter to me. Not just the fluff that everyone wants to hear. (Also, if you don’t have a coach, I highly recommend getting one. GAME CHANGER!)
When 2020 started, I was unsure of how I wanted to share my thoughts with the world. I started this blog to support my Essential Oils business, and it has evolved greatly since then.
I have been doing a lot of mindset work and learning about the why behind the things that are important to me.
I have remained silent about some of the things that have made me who I am. I will never share every single detail of my past with everyone, I want to make that clear, because some of my past, I am still learning how to deal with. One day, maybe I will be ready to share those details.
Before I begin, I want to talk about wellness, and how all of this mindset work has tied into my overall wellness and ultimately my decision to start sharing my story.
Our mental health affects so many different systems in our bodies. Our immune system is one of them. Fear, anxiety, rage, and all of those negative feelings that I have been feeling for much of my life have an impact on our overall wellness.
Part of my wellness journey is coming to terms with that part of myself and healing those negative feelings.
I am not there 100%, and I don’t know if I ever will be. I am trying, and I am pushing forward daily to heal myself emotionally and mentally, as well as physically.
Human Trafficking has been at the front of our 2020 minds. Pedophiles are trying to be acknowledged as a sexuality, and Folks, THIS IS NOT OKAY! Our children need us. They need people who are willing to speak up and say enough is enough.
So, along with my health and wellness viewpoints, if you follow me personally on Facebook or Twitter, you have probably seen me share a lot of information regarding Pedophilia and Human Trafficking in recent months, and maybe even wondered why I care so much all of a sudden.
I am here to tell you, this is not an all of a sudden thing.
I am finding my voice and using it for the first time in my almost 32 years of life. I am done being silent.
When I was 12 years old, I was sexually abused.
A little background information is necessary to understand my story.
Not only was my abuser someone I knew, but he was someone who had been physically abusing me most of my life.
Things were very different when I was young, and the fine line between spanking and beating was crossed way too many times, and this is only part of the abuse I endured and witnessed as a child. Hint: Spanking does not ever involve pulling a child’s pants off or using a belt. I still get flashbacks when someone snaps a belt together..
When I was four years old, I was adopted by a man who I would grow up calling Dad. (Until later years..) He wasn’t always a nice man, and many people and his arrest record will agree with me.
He was a physically abusive alcoholic.
It is not my place to tell anyone else’s story, so I will not discuss the other abuse going on in my home as I was growing up, only my own.
When he was sober, I loved every bit of him. When he drank, which was most of the time, he scared the shit out of me. Luckily, my mom got us out of that situation. They separated permanently when I was in junior high.
But, he still had visitation. The physical abuse wasn’t nearly as bad now, and I think the guilt of not seeing the man I knew as my dad urged me to go there every other weekend like planned.
When you grow up with an abuser, you realize later in life that even physical abuse takes on a very psychological approach as well.
I had a deeply ingrained fear of this man.
Fear that made me stay silent, fear that made me do what he wanted, fear of what happened if I didn’t. Fear of speaking out, even now as an adult. Fear of what others would think if I did. Fear of how my family would react to me sharing my story. Fear has been my worst enemy.