Practiced Silence

 I feel like I've been fighting against silence my entire life.

When an older boy invited a few of us 1st grade girls to sit on his lap on the swing and then put his fingers in our underwear--I pretended to fall off of him, without a word. I told my mom...and I think another little friend who said he did the same thing to her. I think we told a few other girls to stay away from him. Our teacher told us not to tell anyone else because then those people would tell others and eventually so many people would know. My mom told the authorities at the school immediately and I *think* I remember having to repeat it to police? But I could be remembering wrong. The boy had to leave the school.

Later, I was told my dad was not my biological dad. I did not realize what it really meant for my heart and soul. That is when the lies of my heart and fragmenting of my identity began because from that moment on--I was NOT who I SAID I was. I thought I was 'brown' but I wasn't. When I was a teen, I wanted more information and my mom refuse to tell me anything. She said she was not ready. Again, silence. I was forced to carry the burden of her secret and that was unfair.

Between there somewhere, I was getting groped by a close member of the family. I don't remember when it started but I had decided I had to take care of myself. I handled it, in silence. Unfortunately, as a kid, I would sometimes forget again, and there he was. Always ready for me to forget and walk by too close. 

It all came out when I started triggering with a boy friend in high school. I was fine the entire summer we spent making out. I broke the silence but...it accomplished nothing. He was allowed back in our family's life. An even closer family member, swears he molested his daughter. I was told she admitted it. But so? Nothing changed except if he was around, we all acted as if he wasn't. We blocked him out in silence...until he just faded away. He's still here. He even spent years coaching girls sports. Everyone practiced the silence now. For who's benefit? At what cost? 

I verbally fought with my mom a lot in high school. I felt this rage inside--I think it was the silence trying to escape--fighting for a way out. I was never known for 'being quiet'. I was sassy as heck. Always my 'mouth' that 'got me in trouble.' But so many words I wasn't allowed to express. 'Why didn't you protect me?' came out as 'I HATE YOU!'

Let me not forget the moment I was told a female can not be a pastor. Because the Bible says. That's the verdict. No debate, no question. Women are not allowed to speak...in the church. 
But the marriage. The marriage provided the strongest silencing influence. There are still events I have never shared aloud and I don't know if I ever will...or can. But mostly, my voice is returning. It's not raging anymore. It's controlled and assertive, or written...mostly.

Just Tell Me I'm Pretty!

I used to joke that all I needed was someone to 'tell me I'm pretty' and I'd be...something...putty, smitten, tempted, easy. Haha. I used this joke to imply how vulnerable and needy I felt I was. With that vulnerability in mind, I aimed to keep very large boundaries around myself.

Then one day I didn't. I let my guard down and I let myself listen to the flattering words. I started to react exactly as I expected I would. My inner nineteen year old was thrilled. My inner twelve year old was writing Mrs. ________ across her yellow peechee, in fancy cursive. It was fun and exciting to imagine all the potential and possibilities...for exactly.one.minute.

I'm not nineteen and I'm farther from twelve than I'd like to admit...I can't even remember the last time I saw a yellow peechee with the athletic silhouettes on it. It wasn't enough. I'm not as easily enthralled as I thought.

How my kids take pix of me! 

When the sweet words stopped there wasn't anything left. There's more to me than my shell or body or face. It's no longer enough to be told the opinion someone has about how I look, no matter how positive. I'm worth more than that. I AM more than that. I can hold a conversation longer than a flirtatious laugh and internet wink.

Who doesn't like to be told they look nice or be complimented on how well all their days at the gym are paying off? If it stops there though and there's nothing more to offer--then it stops. Conversation shut down. If a guy can't hold a conversation beyond simplistic flattery and facetiousness...What is that? It's nothing. It's lame, boring, pathetic and foolish. Foolish to think that's all a grown woman wants to hear and foolish if one actually falls for it.

If that's all you're hearing, does that mean that's all the speaker is seeing? I don't want to be seen as 'just another pretty face' or any other body part. I am a whole person with a whole heart and a whole life of experiences. I've had better and longer conversations with people that held absolutely no romantic (or otherwise) interest in me and it was fabulous. So why would I settle for anything less than that, along with an indication of something more?

Maybe my life will change some day. Maybe I will meet someone actually interested in what I have to say and want to listen (or read? ;-) ). Until then, I am smart enough to know, flattery will get you no where.