Lifting the Veil

I am an actress on the stage. The strong one who never bleeds, never breaks, who never crumbles from the pressure. It doesn't matter what life dishes out, I exude confidence through every pore. Yet often, on the inside I shatter, and begin to doubt my strength.

But God forbid that I appear "weak"; what would they say? So I continue on with this noble façade. On the inside I am reaching out in need of reassurance, yet the outside portrait leaves little room for fear to be expressed. It is truly an Oscar deserving performance on the stage of life. When all around me crumbles, I pretend the pieces still remain intact. When loneliness embraces the depth of my existence, I act as if my life's full to the brim. But it's not.

Life forced me to hide the truth within the shadows, and it's there that I relive the pain. The pain in quiet solitude sometimes surrounds me. It haunts my soul with visions that will never leave. No matter how skilled the surgeon's hands who try to free me, no matter how sharp their blade. It will always be there; the charred remains of a tortured soul.

The loneliness of my past suffering is painful for me to describe. In looking back, I envision myself this little girl, turning deep inside within a void. There is nothing but a distant light, with little hope of reaching it. I feel her floating weightless within this space reaching out to touch the walls. It's as if all sensation has been removed from her fingertips. She focuses on blackness, she feel s nothing, she cannot taste. Only two senses seem to function in fullness; her eyes that bear witness to the Devil himself and the the acrid scent of her burning flesh.

Within this same vision that little girl climbed up what appeared to be the moss covered walls of a deep, dank well. Clinging, grasping, with every bit of energy she moved towards a feint and distant light with a tiny bit of hope. She scraped and clawed, slid and fell straight down into a murky pool. Nothing but a feint illumination; a single fading beam diffused by a darkened soul. She heard a rhythmic drip, drip, drip...which seemed to echo her demise. She was lost somewhere deep inside her human shell. This shell seemed to have but one purpose; to be used. She was dead, yet still alive. She moved robotically through life, severed from her innocence.

I suffered this pain alone. I was forced behind the veil of silence by the cunning lies of my father. If I had only known that I was not the only little girl on the face of the earth that had this secret to bear. As an adult, I often repeated this habit of loneliness, severing myself from the world. Existing within it with all the successes expected of a "normal" human being; yet never being able to truly connect with how I felt when I did succeed. My deepest desire was to connect emotionally with the human beings who surrounded me, but I found myself constantly pushing them away when they got a little too close. My fear of abuse ran so deep, that it left very little room for developing the healthy relationships that were the key to my healing.

I do not equate vulnerability with weakness; instead I view the act of becoming vulnerable as one that is bold and courageous. Sometimes it felt as if I was holding my heart within my hands, as I reached out towards another human being. It took an enormous amount of faith and trust in the person standing before me, because a quiet fear loomed; the fear that this person had the ability to snatch my beating heart and tear it in two as I watched on helplessly. I had to remind myself that it is I who gives this person the power to destroy. With my heart intact and filled with love and faith in myself, and the knowledge of my personal strength, I can refuse to give over this power if the person decides to abuse it. I can withdraw my heart; place it back into my chest, and move on to humans who will treat it with tenderness. That response is definitely due to healing of soul and the integration of the belief that I am a worthy human being. I am worthy to give love, and better yet, to receive it. I am no longer invisible.

My desire is not to be perceived as "that poor person who was abused". I want others to see my strength and the fact that I survived. I want those around me to know that something evil and vile happened to me as a young child. I want others to understand what a painful thing it truly was, and how it has haunted and deeply affected my life.

I want those who have been through a similar experience to gain from my story a feeling of hope, and the reassurance that you do not have to be alone in your suffering. There are so many of us out here who truly understand your pain.

My deepest wish for those of you lucky enough to avoid this type of adversity, is for you to lift the blinders and take a long, deep look at the people who surround you. Begin to trust the intuition that nudges at your soul and learn to listen to the words and actions of those closest to your hearts. So much is said within silence.

More than anything, I want my message to reach the ears of the perpetrators and those with the potential to inflict this harm. I want you to know beyond a doubt, that you are committing a heinous crime, and as a society, we will no longer allow it to continue.

May the veil of secrecy be lifted, may we unite in our struggle for healing, and may the power of those who abuse be relinquished and handed back to their victims.