Sex...yes sex, lets talk about it in today's post. Are you ashamed of the word? Can you say it in conversation without blushing or worrying about saying it?

Have you talked to your children about sex? Have you talked about private areas that adults are other children shouldn't ever touch? Let's talk about sex.

We never, ever talked about sex in our home, growing up, or at least not as general conversation. Everything I knew about sex, I knew at a very young age--either because of the sexual abuse at the hand of my bio-father or because of what I heard at school. We couldn't talk about it, it was a bad word, a hush-hush word if you will.

We didn't watch anything other than rated G movies till I was 16. My mother once said, after everything was out, she tried so hard to protect us from the outside world, but failed to protect us from the inside.

So I want to challenge all of you that have children or if you hve children in your world.....SEX is one 3 letter word that you need to discuss. This is a conversation that could mean life or death to the children in your life.

Being ashamed Of our bodies, ashamed of sex....will get us or our future generation nowhere but in trouble.

So...I sometimes wonder if I would have spoke up sooner about the abuse ...had I been taught, had I been talked to?? Who knows and it doesn't matter now, but what does matter is changing history for those I care about and that includes all of you and your children!

The next several posts we will discuss the signs of child sexual abuse...some signs are very early signs. Please read all the posts am take heed, you can help us stop child sexual abuse!!!

Children often show us rather than tell us that something is upsetting them. There may be many reasons for changes in their behaviour, but if we notice a combination of worrying signs it may be time to call for help or advice.

What to watch out for in children:

•Acting out in an inappropriate sexual way with toys or objects
•Nightmares, sleeping problems
•Becoming withdrawn or very clingy
•Becoming unusually secretive
•Sudden unexplained personality changes, mood swings and seeming insecure
•Regressing to younger behaviours, e.g. bedwetting
•Unaccountable fear of particular places or people

We will dive into these and share more in the next few posts...stay tuned.

Good thoughts for lives to be changed, with love,
-P

A Buick? How about a Mack Truck?

Oh yes, strength....easy to seem strong on the outside....easy to be who you want to portray from outside...but inside there are days when I am just mush.

There are times when a day is, for some unknown reason, hard, full of anxiety, and fear. These types of days are few and far between, but they somewhat snap me into reality...that my abuser, rapist, father(or speed donor if you will), is living in society, less than an hour away.

Yes, it's a real worry and a real threat, to some extent. But i hope that since there is a life time restraining order all will be fine....but I remind myself,curiosity did kill the cat.

To go back a bit....when he first got out of prison, I would have anxiety attacks driving down the road...I would pull over talk myself off the ledge, persay....and them continue on. Phew!

Recently in talking to other survivors and a couple of parents, just starting the prosecution phase....I realized these reactions are normal. The anxiety other survivors have gone through arevery similar to me. Myself talk during these time would be that I didn't want anyone to see be vulnerable, to see me weak, or see me breakdown.

During these conversations with others, I am a big talker, what I have been through , what worked for me, how I handle today.

Yesterday I realized...there is anxiety still there, maybe covered up with a busy life...maybe hidden so only some can see, or maybe worn on sleeve, more than I realize.

Yesterday while chasing an eagle down the freeway, I was with Aaron and mentioned if I knew what car my abuser was driving these days. Didn't think much about it at first, was slightly giggling, because up until 6 months ago I could have told you the car he was driving. But right now that he mentioned it, I didn't.

Felt slightly out of control, I didn't know, if he was stalking again, what if he was behind us right then, what-if, what-if, what-if....

He proceeded to tell me a car has been around more than he cared to admit and it might be nothing, but noticeably visible...not a car he recognizes and didn't recognize the person in the drivers seat.

It has been 7 years since he was set free, And the 11 yeara he served, dont know i others would recognize him. There is a plan, we know what to do if he is seen around again--but REALITY, set in.

Reality.... my life is forward moving, that I don't dwell on the fact he's alive, anymore. I don't dwell on the fact that he lives fairly close.....but the reality of those things hit me like a brick.

The harsh reminder...the pain and fear is buried deep within me....but it's there...and the ability to be stirred from sleep - is more apparent than I know---reality, brokenness is never fully healed.

For all you survivors out there, you deserve to have a good life, you deserve to be successful, prosper, have families, etc. Yes we are broken deep within us, our childhoods were stripped, our spirit diminished, and the scars run deep.
But we are SURVIVORS....and no matter what we will persevere...

Think about these things... Think about what you have been through...and then think about what you are going to do to assure this doesn't happen to another child again.

Praying for lives to be changed.
With love....
-P

As a child my vision was tainted and blurry. The sights ahead me...foggy, sad, and miserable at times. If I did what he demanded, if I gave in, if I was obedient...those that I loved would be safe....and maybe he would finally love me as his daughter, not his lover.

My eight year old eyes saw visions of twenty something....they saw things that a young child should never see. Through my eyes, this life that I was in, was hell on earth....fire and brimstone, fear and pain, hatred and a sick kind of love.

Through my eyes- a fathers love was something different, not protective, safe, endearing, positive, but the opposite....Scary, evil, morbid, violent, manipulative, and so much more.

Through my eyes the maturing years got harder and more painful, was I ever going to see what I should see? Will I ever have the view of life through rose colored glasses, would this hell on earth ever change?!?!

It got worse before it got better. The pain continued into high school. Try going through what was going on behind the door of my house and then up and move to a new state in the ninth grade and start high school with people that had been together, most since they were small. Didn't quite fit in, couldn't find a niche....through my eyes I was a freak, even though there was nothing outwardly to show. Didn't want anyone to know, so I hid. Sat with the less popular, engulfed myself in scouts (great thing by the way), and through my eyes...I was fakin' it till I made it. No dances, no social functions, no sporting events-through my eyes he was everywhere--my father-the rapist the liar, the stalker...only through my eyes...no one had any idea.

As the abuse came to a close, as police, detectives, judges, lawyers, counselors all came into the picture....as I stood in front of the judge with my abuser (in shackles and an orange suit) staring me down with laser eyes of hatred and violence--and I spoke these words: "Sir he had no mercy on us, please have no mercy on him,"
The judge looked at me with pain and tears in his eyes...he whispered "it's going to be okay"....

That judge then ruled and exceptional sentence, 17.5 years, this bastard was finally going to somewhat pay for what he took: our innocence, our childhood, our lives as we knew them then.

But one thing that hit me at that moment was, through my eyes...the world was different. All of those people involved: police, my family, judges, lawyers, social workers, counselors...renewed my sight, gave me vision to a new life and a new hope.

I swore that day through my eyes I wouldnt miss anything. The beauty of the clouds, the sky, the clouds, people, life....any of God's creations. Through my eyes I wasn't ever going to miss something....not smell a flower or stop and take a picture, or think about and talk to some random person on the street.

I wanted to always see through the eyes of a child...something I couldn't do growing up. I wanted to see through skin color, sexuality, the past, people's pain, I wante to always see waits in all things.

I swore that my children one day would experience and try everything. That they would see through my eyes to capture the passion in the world around them and the people.

Some might wonder why I do crazy stuff, why I am constantly posting photos or quotes.....I want you to be able to see through my eyes--just a little to know what it's like to be renewed in the world around you and this crazy journey we call life.

One thing I know is with every bone in my body, with every ounce of my being -- I want to assure that all children in my world -  experience an amazing adventure and no one or nothing (that I can control) will change that.

I have talked to several lately, that their children have been abused by a trusted person.....DO NOT stop fighting, get your children out of that situation, no matter what you have to do....through their eyes-you are their lifeline...don't let them down!

So....through my eyes....this is my life, it's crazy, wacky, and fun---and now I am enjoying it as much as I can...

To the year of forty, through my eyes!

Love you all, praying for lives to be changed.

-P