My Stories

I have always loved a good story. I love telling them, I love hearing them. I believe that is how we really get to know each other. I have been telling parts of my story since I can remember. I just wasn’t able to tell my full story. It took me over 40 years to tell the hardest part of my story, but I am doing it now!

I Speak

I finally found the will to speak.
And Speak I will.
It comes out in different ways and to varying degrees.
From “I work with survivors.” and
“I too had a childhood trauma.” to
“I am a survivor of Childhood Sexual Abuse.”
I can’t shorten it or soften it.

Read More…

This

I feel that this is right for me!
Oh, this feels so good.
It’s hard to describe it, but I’ll try.
This is connection.
This is warmth.
This caring and understanding, laughter and tears, it’s all of it and so much more.

Read More…

Kitchen

Breakfasts that turn into lunch.
Conversations over coffee,
Making plans of what we will cook.
There’s a sense of time – we don’t have forever.
Favorite dishes
Cookies and pies
Endless coffee and tea

Read More…

My Stories in Clay

Powerful & Powerless

I’m living in two worlds. One where people really see me. And the one where I hide.
My story seems more appropriate in the dark, musty cave of my psyche.
No one gets in unless I let them.
The truth is…I feel like a fraud.

Read More… 

  • Enough

    I buried it and moved on.
    Yes, it popped up, but I gracefully stomped it down.
    Until one day, it, she, would no longer be ignored.
    That little girl had endured Enough!

    She said to me…
    I have been ignored long enough.
    I have been silent long enough.
    I have hurt long enough.
    I have given all my love away for long enough.
    I’m here and I demand you pay attention to me.

    Read more...

  • Rise Up!

    Rise Up!
    I want to yell, “Get Out!”.
    I hold back.
    My eyes burn as I speak through them but, you don’t want to listen.
    “Get out!”
    I restrain myself, but you don’t
    “Get out!”
    I can feel the power within me.
    I hold back.
    I can feel the anger build up.
    “Get out!”
    This is my sacred space.
    When will I let her voice rise up?

  • Rooted Series - Goddess

    Grief, loss, my Mom.
    Larger than life at 4’11”.
    She led by example.
    Feed them.
    Celebrate.
    Gratitude.
    Strength comes from within.
    Lean on family and friends.
    Celebrate!
    And when all else fails, bake!

  • Rooted Series - Ancestors

    I wish I had more time with the three women represented in Ancestors - my Mom, Aunt DoDo, and Aunt Janet. They personify love, strength, power, kindness, and family. They all faced loss, illness, and daily life with grit and love. I look to them as I navigate my life’s journey.

  • Healing in Community

    Being in a community of other survivors was a very important aspect of my healing. Learning I wasn’t alone allowed me to do the work I needed to do. There are times when healing feels impossible and then they remind me. I am not alone.

  • Suppport

    My healing journey began in a shroud of secrecy. My teenage children recognized my suffering and attributed it to the death of my Mom. I wondered if leaning on them too much would break them too. Not the case, they only became more compassionate and loving. Eventually, I told them my story. They have been so kind and caring towards me.

  • Lean in

    I had to learn to lean in if I wanted to heal. In the early days of my healing journey, only my husband knew of the childhood sexual abuse. I leaned on him hard. And there were friends and siblings that supported in ways they will never know.

  • My Healing Process

    Healing is complex. Duh! It’s not linear. It’s messy. It’s confusing. It’s slippery. Just when you have healed one part something else is there waiting to be processed. I was pushing myself in ways I had never experienced. The process is not easily grasped, it is slippery. And yet deep inside is the hope of making it to the other side, better than when you began.