I did it. I finally started the book. The first chapter is nearly done.
What a reality check. It did happen. It was my life and is my life.
This book is not to bring shame or hurt to anyone. It is simply an awareness journal of the years I spent in my trauma.
I am telling the story thru the child’s voice with my own narration of the events that were occuring during that time.
What do I hope to gain from writing a book? Well, it has nothing to do with money, although I wouldnt turn it down.
It has everything to do with coming to terms with my trauma and learning to forgive myself.
I wasn’t a “bad” child. But for some reason, I’ve never thought of myself as a “good” person.
In the days of my trauma, there weren’t child protection agencies. Parents and family members were never the blame for being abusive. They just had “problems” or the child somehow provoked it.
Only in the last two years have I realised that I needed help. I was powerless. I wasn’t a “bad” girl.
I should not have had to deal with feeling like a sexual being at the age of 5. I should not have had to think of myself as “dirty” my whole childhood.
Some will be upset that this story is being told. No names will be used and I’m considering being anonymous author. What do you think?
Anyway, regardless of how the rest of the world feels, this is my year. My story. My life. Love me or not, it no longer matters. I’m living my purpose and hopefully bringing awareness to a taboo subject that no one wants to claim as their story.
Until next time – I am being MJ every day.