Letter to an Abuser

As you may know, I run a support group at my church for women who have been sexually abused or assaulted called Beyond the Silence. In this group, one of the many difficult things that we do is write a letter to our abusers. We don't give it to them. We write it for ourselves. We write it because while naming and describing the evil done to us does not ensure automatic personal healing, it does however provide clarity. If it is not defined, named or described, then it remains hidden. Telling the truth about sexual assault by acknowledging the traumatic experience is one important aspect of healing. The only way to move from denial, isolation, and self-protection is to look honestly at the assault that has been committed. Healing begins when the secret is disclosed and the shackles of silence are broken. I say this letter is for ourselves because, while confronting your abuser may seem like the right thing to do, it is different for each person. For some it might be a great thing to do. They may confront their abuser, receive an apology, and feel a sense of freedom or closure. However, for others, confrontation may only worsen the effects of the assault. For example, I wrote a letter to the man who kidnapped me but I didn't give it to him because I know that he isn't remorseful. Confronting him probably won't lead to an apology, but I don't need one from him. Would it be amazing if he suddenly was remorseful and sincerely apologized? Yes! But I don't need it to move on and continue my healing. That is something that every survivor must come to realize someday in order to continue their healing as well.


Writing this letter to your abuser is never easy. Many women find it too difficult to do. Even though they're writing it only for themselves to read, they're still reliving details from their pasts that they've desperately kept hidden for a long time. One of the women in my group wrote a letter to her abuser and she gave me permission to share it with you. I hope it touches your heart the way it did mine.

Emily,

It has taken me 34 years to be able to deal with the pieces of broken glass you left me with. To be able to look in the mirror and not hate what I see; not hate how I feel; not be suspicious of everyone who tried to hug me, to love me or be my friend. It's sad to think that you may not remember what you did. I cannot fathom that a predator like you would forget the pleasure you found when you sexually assaulted my sister and I at the ages of 8 and 10. Now that I am a mother of four I have thought back to when they were 8 and 10 and it made me sick to the core of my being that someone could look at them in the perverse and unnatural way you looked at us. I couldn't bear the thought of what you did to us being done to them. But enough of that. This letter is to share some very important information with you. If you'll understand or even care is irrelevant, but I need to return to you what you left me with back in 1980; back in my sister's bedroom, on the bottom bunk of their bunk beds as you muffled my cries with your nasty hand.  

I return to you the shame, feelings of unworthiness, anger, bitterness, sexual dysfunction, fear of the dark, fear of intimacy, and self-loathing. These feelings have now been replaced. My spirit, my body, and my heart now speak a language that is foreign to you.....strength.

I return to you the 100 billion tears I've shed; the 100 billion sleepless nights; the 100 billion thoughts of hate towards you and replace them with steps towards being made whole and feeling free.

I also return to you the pain and angst that penetrated the core of my being every day. That made me question everything and everyone; which left me trusting no one and hating my future because I couldn't see anything but your face smirking at me.

I return to you that ache that sat in my womb at the thought of someone doing to my kids what you did to me.

Now that I've returned all these things to you, I am also going to give you something; something that isn't for you Emily, but for me.....forgiveness. Forgiveness because although I am working on being a better me, I cannot do this without exorcising this hate I have for you. It's been the cancer that has gone undetected and undiagnosed for years. It's the cancer which almost ended my life on many occasions. But I have found the perfect physician who offered me a cure. His name is Jesus Christ and His cure for my disease is forgiveness. You should make an appointment with Him and ask Him to forgive you too. Maybe then, when your time comes, you won't rot in Hell with the other pedophiles and sexual predators. Make no mistake, I would love to see you squirm and suffer; to hear you scream and know that no one is coming to your aid; to see what your life would be like after an experience like that, but, because of you, I've been brought to a place with some amazing survivors. With a group of women who have endured and who aren't willing to let people like you destroy our futures. I've learned that everyone isn't cruel; that I'm not abnormal; that I'm not meant to be a shell taking up space.

Writing this letter to you is me making the assumption that you're literate and capable of recognizing and admitting what you did to me and my little sister. But it is also my way of saying goodbye to your unwelcome existence in my life. I'm learning to pick up my mat and walk by faith, one step at a time.

Anne

Daughter of a King

Thank you Anne for letting me share your letter. And, yes, all that's dead inside can be reborn...even if you're worn.

"But you be strong and do not lose courage, for there is reward for your work." - 2 Chronicles 15:7

 

WORN by Tenth Avenue North

♥ Diana
(aka Jurney Eve)

Forgiveness-The Prisoner That it Really Frees is You

Forgiving someone who's done you wrong is one of the hardest things to do. I know because I've done it. 

For those of you who aren't familiar with my story, I was kidnapped by a stranger when I was 17 years old. It took me a very, very long time to forgive that man, but with God's help I finally did. 

Just to give you some perspective on how long it took me to truly forgive; I was kidnapped in 1991 and I didn't forgive him, I mean truly forgive him until 2007. It took me 16 years to forgive the man who kidnapped me, sexually assaulted me and tried to murder me. 

I must have said "I forgive him" about a dozen times before 2007 but the hurt was always there proving to me that I hadn't, even though I wanted to. I tried. Over and over again I would pray and ask God to help me forgive that man but over and over again I found myself bound up with all the pain of my assault that I hadn't dealt with yet. It wasn't until I started releasing that pain that I started experiencing forgiveness.

"Total forgiveness is a choice. It is not a feeling-at least not at first-but rather an act of the will."

I had made a choice to forgive and that's the first step. You've got to want to forgive the person who's wronged you. And maybe, like me, you'll have to forgive over and over again until you "feel" like you've forgiven. Maybe you're holding onto something that's keeping you from truly forgiving, like I was. I was holding onto my memories of my assault. I was keeping them locked up tight inside of me. But I've learned that you've got to let "it" out so you can let God in.

Forgiveness doesn't mean forgetting. It doesn't condone that person's actions against you and it's never as easy as you think it's gonna be.

Today, I'm going to take my forgiveness one step further by praying for the man who kidnapped me. This is actually something I've been doing for some time now but today I feel led to really focus on him. Maybe this sounds strange to you but I know that only through God will this man be healed. Only by experiencing Christ's love will he be free of the demons that have ruled his heart for so long. So, if you feel compelled to pray with me, I ask that you say this prayer with me now.

"Dear Jesus. I lift up my perpetrator to you. I ask that you touch his heart; surround him with your presence and love. I ask that You extend Your grace and mercy to him. Let him know that I forgive him. For every wrong he's committed against me, I forgive him. I pray that one day soon he'll come to know and love You the way I do. I give thanks in advance for everything You're doing in my life and in his life and in everyone's life that has been touched by this sin. In Jesus' name I pray...Amen"

Forgiveness

It's the hardest thing to give away
And the last thing on your mind today
It always goes to those that don't deserve

It's the opposite of how you feel
When the pain they caused is just too real
It takes everything you have just to say the word...

Forgiveness

It flies in the face of all your pride
It moves away the mad inside
It's always anger's own worst enemy
Even when the jury and the judge
Say you gotta right to hold a grudge
It's the whisper in your ear saying 'Set It Free'

Forgiveness
 

Show me how to love the unlovable
Show me how to reach the unreachable
Help me now to do the impossible

Forgiveness
 

It'll clear the bitterness away
It can even set a prisoner free
There is no end to what it's power can do
So, let it go and be amazed
By what you see through eyes of grace
The prisoner that it really frees is you

Forgiveness
 

I want to finally set it free
So show me how to see what Your mercy sees
Help me now to give what You gave to me
 

Forgiveness

BY MATTHEW WEST

Thank you.

♥ Diana

(aka Jurney Eve)

Would I Be Different?

 

 

Would I be different if you listened?

Try to be born again and be a Christian?

Would I be different if you understood the word "No"?

Or did you take joy in making me feel low?

Would I be different if I actually had the chance to grow?

Or did you assume I was fine and just didn't know?
 

 

Did you hear me when I screamed?

Hushing me up and telling me it was all a dream?

Would I be different if I spoke up?

Then you would get mad if everyone woke up.

Would I be different if my words didn't choke up?

Looking in your eyes and I felt my heart get broken up.

 

 

Would I smile the same way?

Would I praise God every Sunday?

Would I be different in the aspect of valuing life,

Or would I continue to attempt suicide more then twice?

Would I be different if I was a boy,

Or was my innocence meant to be destroyed?

 

 

Poem by:

 Phelicia Amigo-Three Durand

 

 

 

Tiny Angel: That dreadful morning

Tiny Angel: That dreadful morning: I awoke that morning to my phone ringing, it was a nurse from United Health Services where my husband had been a patient for a few days. The...

Zombie Daughter

Today I want to share something that a friend of mine shared with me recently. Not too long ago she attended a journaling and collage workshop called Art For The Heart. The workshop starts out with everyone choosing random pictures from a table. You're told to just choose whatever "speaks" to you. Don't worry about what or why, just choose. Then you take a seat and make a collage out of the pictures you've chosen and when you're all done you complete a journaling exercise based on your collage. She said she was surprised by how much each collage seemed to represent her. That making them contributed to her healing. She said it was an amazingly spiritual experience for her. Painful at times because when completing the journaling exercise some old wounds came to the surface and she was forced to deal with them, but overall it was an incredibly rewarding experience that she highly recommends.

She gave me permission to share one of her collages with you. This particular collage deals with a dark time in her life after her decision to abort her baby and the shame and regret she felt for so long because of it. I think it is truly a beautiful thing when someone allows others to see their pain. It's not an easy thing to do, especially when a Christian is opening up about abortion. There is a lot of healing power in that, not only for the person sharing it but for the ones who witness it. So I hope Kristy's art touches you as much as it has touched me.

                           (Sorry about the picture quality. I took it with my phone. I wish I had taken a 

better picture so you could see it how I did.)

Zombie Daughter

I am the Zombie Daughter. I am the one who feels nothing. I am emotionally dead. I am buried in stench and death because I took my child's opportunity for life! I am the one who goes through life in a zombie-like state covering over who I really am, hoping someone will hear me scream behind my veil.

The Zombie Daughter was with me for 19 years-imprisoned by shame, self-hatred, guilt and unforgiveness. She thinks she deserves to be surrounded by the stench of death. The dark, bloody cloud is always hovering over her, keeping her down. She tries to creep up with her attitude of unforgiveness at times but has in every other way and for this particular sin...she has been saved.

At the time, during those years, I was her judge, jury, and convictor. She didn't deserve life, joy, forgiveness, love and absolutely, without question, did not deserve the love of God. He would think she was despicable in His holy presence! 

In no way does she reveal God's dignity!

Oh Lord, this was my scarlet letter. My choice. My abortion buried me; buried my soul in a pit of death's stench! I am so forgiving of others but was last to forgive myself...as if to say what Jesus did on the cross wasn't big enough to cover my sin. How could I say that?!? How arrogant! It absolutely was and I am forever grateful to Him for forgiving me.

"You know I was with you-even then. 

I have shown you how I loved you even 

as this choice was being made!! 

You chose to shut me out. I tried to woo you even then! 

She was always my daughter. I cried with her! 

I know of every tear that was shed behind that veil.

Each one was and is precious to me. 

I removed the stench of death. 

I breathed in forgiveness, life, love, joy 

and I see nothing but beauty my daughter!"

I love you Father!

Breaking Free

Today I did something I have been planning on doing for the last twenty years.

I bought a bicycle and I rode it.

If you are not familiar with my story you may be thinking, "Big deal! What's so special about that?" Well, I'll tell you.

Twenty years ago, I was riding my bicycle when a man ran me over with his pickup truck...on purpose. Yes, on purpose! After running me over he did a slew of other things to me which landed him in prison and me in a sort of prison of my own. In my prison, I felt as if everyone around me was trying to hurt me so I had to constantly be on my guard. I couldn't go to certain places or I couldn't do certain things because they would make me vulnerable. I lived in fear of everyone around me. I looked at each and every person as a possible crazy person who just wanted to hurt me. I stopped doing a lot of things because of this fear of "what could happen to me". One of which was riding a bicycle. 

For a long time, I felt I couldn't get back on a bicycle because it would remind me of that day and of what that man did to me. But lately, I've been dealing with my memories instead of suppressing them and because of that I thought it was time for me to deal with  this fear as well. 

I could get back on a bicycle. 

But when I let myself really think about it and imagine myself riding on the side of the road with my back to traffic, I had a mini panic attack.  It felt like my blood was racing through my veins. I could feel my heart pounding inside of my chest. As much as I wanted to tackle this next obstacle, I wasn't sure if I actually could. 

But who says you have to ride on the side of the road with your back to traffic? Well, I guess technically the law says that but have you ever seen anyone actually enforce it?.......Me neither. So I've decided I would buy a bicycle and I would ride it on the sidewalk. 

I'm such a rebel! 

And that's exactly what I did today and I'm going to do it again tomorrow.

What did you do today?

♥ Jurney Eve

True Colors

Today I feel like I have a huge hole in my heart.

Somebody I love with my absolute whole heart is in pain and I feel powerless to help her.

How can someone who is amazingly gifted, beautiful, smart, inspiring, loving...How can they not see themselves the way everyone else does?

Here I go, being all hypocritical, when in fact, it wasn't that long ago that I struggled with my own self-esteem. I think everybody struggles with that from time to time. When it was me, I remember just how awful I felt about myself. I also remember all of the things I did to try and boost my self-esteem. I guess that's why I am so sad right now. I don't want her to do what I did. I don't want her to inadvertently hurt herself on her quest for perfection.

Everything within me wants to wrap her in my arms and tell her how much I love her and just how important she is to me...and to so many other people. I want to tell her, fail or succeed it doesn't matter. She can make a million mistakes...it doesn't matter. She is perfectly imperfect...just like everyone else.

People beat themselves up on a daily basis trying to be perfect...trying to look perfect...trying to act perfect. But how boring would this world be if everyone was the same? We would have no music...no lyrics...no artists...no actors...no athletes...no books...(*gasp*)

Think about your favorite musician. Now think about what would have become of them if they allowed their uniqueness to be stifled in the hopes of being and looking and acting like everyone else. 

Embrace your uniqueness. Embrace your beautiful self. Because you ARE beautiful!

All of those things that make you different are the things that people treasure most about you.

"For You created my inmost being: 

You knit me together in my mother's womb.

I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made."

Psalm 139:13-14

♥ Jurney Eve

I Don't Want To Gain The Whole World And Lose My Soul

I feel that God has been throwing a message at me over the past few months or so. Whether it's through the words of others; the books I've read; lyrics of the songs I've heard; emails or even through Facebook status updates. I feel that God has been trying to remind me that He is not done working in my life. I am not finished growing. My journey is not over. And while I already knew this, I have to admit that I have become a little too comfortable in my relationship with God. A few years ago, when I was writing my book, I was constantly seeking God's healing and guidance. I REALLY needed it because I was in such a bad emotional state.

But I had made such an incredible breakthrough after writing my book. To me, nothing short of a miracle had happened during that time in my life. All of the healing and growing that took place within me was nothing short of a miracle.

A miracle that I was even talking about how I was kidnapped and raped.

A miracle that I had learned how to feel whole again after sixteen years of feeling lost, worthless, broken, unlovable, unfixable, abnormal.

You get the idea.

For the last few years, I have felt so strong in my faith. I was ready to change the world one broken heart at a time. I was running the race I felt God had laid out before me. But I think that I got so caught up in trying to figure out how I could help other people that I stopped trying to figure out how to keep helping myself. And after a while, I started doubting myself. I started feeling discouraged, like I was never going to accomplish all of the things that I wanted to; all of the things that I felt God was calling me to accomplish.

But He has reminded me that I can't take care of others if I don't take care of myself. And so, I need to bring the focus back around to me. Oh, I'm not going to stop reaching out and encouraging others. I'm still going to volunteer at the Victims Service Center, volunteer as a member of RAINN's Speaker Bureau, write my second edition and still raise a little money for the occasional charity on the side, but I will remember to take time to spend with God.

We all lead busy, busy lives but we must remember to take a little time, even if it's only 5 minutes, for ourselves. Pick up your Bible and let it fall open to a random passage; or start at the beginning...I recommend the New Testament...and read a few verses every day. I've started in Ephesians. If we don't take the time to connect with Him and focus on ourselves then we will never be truly happy or be as successful as He meant for us to be.

Faith is not a constant without maintenance and always remember..."I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." Philippians 4:13

♥ Jurney Eve

My Tribute to Tori

Today I would like to pay tribute to Tori Amos. For those of you who aren't familiar with Tori, allow me to introduce her.

There she is.

Tori holds a place very close to my heart because she was the first person who I ever heard tell their story about being raped. I heard it for the first time in 1993, two years after I was raped. She's a musician so she told her story through a song she wrote called, Me and a Gun.


I would listen to that song over and over again. Finally there was someone who understood my pain. And even though I wasn't ready to speak out about what happened to me then, Tori's lyrics gave me a sliver of strength every time I heard them.

In Tori's own words, she says...

"I'll never talk about it at this level again but let me ask you. Why have I survived that kind of night, when other women didn't", she says. "How am I alive to tell you this tale when he was ready to slice me up? In the song I say it was 'Me and a Gun' but it wasn't a gun. It was a knife he had. And the idea was to take me to his friends and cut me up, and he kept telling me that, for hours. And if he hadn't needed more drugs I would have been just one more news report, where you see the parents grieving for their daughter". "And I was singing hymns, as I say in the song, because he told me to. I sang to stay alive. Yet I survived that torture, which left me urinating all over myself and left me paralyzed for years. That's what that night was all about, mutilation, more than violation through sex". "I really do feel as though I was psychologically mutilated that night and that now I'm trying to put the pieces back together again. Through love, not hatred. And through my music. My strength has been to open again, to life, and my victory is the fact that, despite it all, I kept alive my vulnerability".

Tori also opened my eyes to lyrics. I had never really paid a lot of attention to lyrics before her. Her passion is what gave me one of my first dreams of grandeur. Lol! I was going to be a singer.

Well, that didn't pan out too well but I am still inspired by her passion and her courage. And so I would like to pay tribute to her.

I apologize for my webcam settings. The audio and video are totally out of sync but I find that if you just close your eyes then you don't even notice. Ha ha ha!

Tori told her story through her music. I told my story through my book. How will you tell your story? There's no right or wrong way. Just tell it. There is power in your voice!

Imperfect People: The stealing of innocence: Ophelia’s story

I just HAD to share this with you.


Imperfect People | The stealing of innocence: Ophelia’s story



♥Jurney 

Crime Victims' Rights Week April 10-16th 2011

Chances and Changes

God has been opening some pretty big doors for me lately. Ever since I started on my "journey to heal"...which is what I refer to as the last four years of my life; from the time I got the idea to write about being kidnapped to the present day...I've been asking God to show me what He wants me to do with my story. Who does He want me to help? I want to help as many people as I can. I just don't know how to get started doing that.


I know I'm not going to help anyone unless I put myself out there and talk about it. The problem I'm having is I'm not sure who to approach. My story isn't for everyone. My story is about surviving and healing from a violent sexual assault, which isn't exactly geared for a mainstream audience. But one might think I could approach women's clinics or charity groups or something along those lines. But another very important aspect of my story, and I think the most important aspect, is the relationship I developed with God throughout the last 20 years of my life, which is responsible for healing me. If it wasn't for God I wouldn't be the person I am today. Therefore, I believe I must include Him when I share my story.


Do you see my dilemma?


So...back to the doors that God is opening for me...




Apparently April is Sexual Assault Awareness month and many places all around the nation are raising awareness by hosting events and I have been asked to speak at one of them. On April 14th I will share my story, my whole story, God and all, to approximately 300 people at a college in upstate NY! Is this my answer from God?  We'll see. I'm so excited yet completely terrified at the same time. I'll let you know how that goes.
 


I'm still working on the second edition of Intended Harm but I don't think my goal of having it finished by the end of spring is going to happen because of another huge, life altering change that is about to happen in my family. We are being relocated to Florida this summer with my husband's job. He actually leaves on April 6th because they need him by April 11th, but the kids and I will stay behind to finish out the school year. So I will, essentially, be a single mother to three kids for a couple of months, while working two jobs, editing my book, writing a speech and I'll also be responsible for packing everything we own. I'm very grateful but at times I feel completely overwhelmed. 


Oh no! Look at the time! I'm gonna have to wrap this up because I have to be at my daughter's school in a few minutes. It's Wednesday and on Wednesdays I volunteer in her classroom. 

Thank you God for all of the blessings in my life. 

♥Jurney 

You Must Be Willing To Be Ridiculed To Stand Up For What You Believe In.

Sorry I haven't blogged in a while. What's it been? Two weeks? Three? 

My days are running into each other. They feel like a blur to me. At the end of each day I feel like I still have an unfinished to-do list that never seems to go away.

But I am getting things accomplished. My house is clean...and if you've been to my house within the last three weeks you would be amazed by that statement. 

Cynthia...You can actually see the floor in my laundry room!

But more importantly, I'm making significant progress on the second edition of Intended Harm. It's going to be amazing...at least I think so. I've been talking to *Renee, who is my kidnapper's ex-wife, and she has been sharing some of her personal memories with me, which I will definitely be including in my second edition. My goal is to have it finished by the end of spring.

I had a great day at church this morning. I just LOVE my church! Every Sunday, it doesn't matter what Pastor is preaching about, it feels like he's talking directly to me. Does anyone else ever feel that way at church? It feels like he knows exactly what I'm struggling with and he's there to help me. This morning, for a brief second, I was like, "Is he talking to me?" His message was about how we are all called to be missionaries for God. We don't have to go to a foreign country to do it. We can do it right here. We can do it at our jobs. We can minister to the person sitting next to us just by telling them how God has worked in our lives. He talked about how missionaries that are over seas face a lot of dangers. Not only do they struggle with different diseases and, let's face it, less than comfortable living conditions, a lot of them are thrust into countries with people that want to kill them. 

And we complain about facing rush hour traffic.

They didn't worry about being uncomfortable or sick. Well, I'm sure they worried about it but their message outweighed their fear...even their fear of being killed. And that made me think...I have been so worried and afraid of the "what-ifs". 

What if *Mr. Smith finds out I wrote this book?

What if it makes him angry?

What if he tries to find me?

What if people think I'm weird?

What if...?

What if...?

What if...?

I need to be more like those missionaries. 

Yes, I am worried about the "what-ifs". 

Yes, I'm incredibly uncomfortable putting my personal life out for display.

Yes, my heart fluctuates when I talk to a group of people about my story.

But I know that the message I have to share is far more important than my comfort. 

That doesn't necessarily make it any easier but it is very encouraging to me. For the past year I have been thinking that it shouldn't be this hard. If this message is something God wants me to share, then wouldn't it come easily to me? 

But Pastor's message this morning made me realize that when comfort is more important than serving God, you will never be successful for God. God wants to take us out of our comfort zone. When we are uncomfortable we rely on a strength that is greater than our own. 

God gave me this message that he wants me to give to you and no matter how uncomfortable it makes me I'm willing to give it. After all, what I have isn't mine anyway...it's God's.

 ♥Jurney Eve

All In God's Time

For the past 19.5 years, I have been dealing...or rather I have been suppressing and NOT dealing...with what happened to me. For the majority of those years, I have not done well. However, the past few years have been a lot better. Ever since I opened up and started writing and talking about how I was raped, I feel like a completely different person. I would have never thought that I would be where I am today. I could never have imagined myself standing in front of groups of women and telling them my story. I wouldn't even talk about it to anyone.

I think one of the most amazing things that have come out of me sharing my story is all the wonderful people I have met or reconnected with. I have helped and counseled others who are in pain and I have made new friends. I feel like God is constantly blessing my life with different people. 

Remember the letter I received a couple of weeks ago from my kidnapper's ex-wife. How amazing was that?!? We have written back and forth a few times already and we both feel blessed for having found each other. Through our correspondence, I have had the good fortune to connect with someone else. *Mr. Smith's daughter. The one who was only 2 years old when I was kidnapped. She gave me permission to share it with you.

Jurney,

Hello. (I've always wanted to say that to you).

My mom told me you wrote a book. I go to college two hours away from home, but this weekend I'm going home to read it. I almost had it overnight-ed to me here at school, but mom told me to just wait and save my money (I'm a poor college kid) :/

I don't really know what to say, I don't want to say too much too soon. I do want you to know that I think about you as much as I think about my family. I grew up knowing everything that happened and I have a few memories of my own. I almost feel as though you are a part of my family, just a relative I've never met. One of those circumstances where family is torn apart by something horrific. Knowing that there isn't a hatred towards my mom and I on your behalf has lifted a HUGE weight off of my shoulders. I feel more at ease, and I don't feel like my mom and I are alone anymore. I've seen my mom cry a lot, and I have cried a lot as well. Your always in our thoughts and prayers. I thank God everyday for making us all strong women. Thank you for reaching out to me, it means more than you know :)

With Love,
Tara 

All in God's time.

♥ Jurney Eve

So,I've Been Thinking...

As some of you may already know, I've been working on a second edition of my book, Intended Harm. I'm not planning on making any major changes or anything. I just want to redesign the inside and change the font. I also figured that while I'm at it I might as well add a few chapters about the civil confinement trial and stuff.

Then I thought...maybe I'll use my real name this time around.

When I first started this adventure in self recovery I was terrified of people finding out who I really was. I thought I could hide behind a fake name and remain anonymous forever. But the more I wrote, and the more I interacted with people, the more I felt like I was meant to share my story.

I know how crazy it must sound to most people...crazy psychopath who's about to be released from prison who has already tried to find me, and here I am making it easier by putting myself out there with a book all about how crazy he really is; and now I want to use my real name?!? I know it sounds crazy but that's not how I look at it.

I look at it like this...I have spent half of my life hiding from this man who is in a maximum security prison. For the longest time I wouldn't use the internet because I was afraid that I would do something that would leave a trace of me that would make it easier for him to find me. I wouldn't let my children join sports or other groups because I was afraid of what might happen to them while they were away from me. I never...and I mean NEVER...talked about what this man did to me because it was too painful. I kept everything bottled up inside, pretending it never happened.

But I have come to accept that I have no control over my life. Yes, I can continue to hide in my house and keep all of this to myself but what good does that do? Who does that help? Certainly not me. By sharing my story, I have finally found peace. I can finally talk about what happened to me. I finally feel healed. But it's not only that. By sharing my story, I have helped many women who have been hurt realize that it is possible to overcome their pain too.

I plan on pursuing my goal of becoming an inspirational speaker and for that I will need to use my real name.

Nothing makes me feel more foolish than when people call me Ms. Eve. Lol!

But I am also a woman of logic and logic tells me that using my real name would only make it easier for Mr. Smith to find me. It's not even me I'm worried about. I'm worried about my children...and my family. Of course, we will all have to take certain precautions when Mr. Smith is released from prison, regardless of whether or not I write under my real name or my psuedonym, so...?

I don't know. Any suggestions?


♥ Jurney Eve