I’ve been wracking my brains for weeks now, trying to ferret out what made my father do it. Was he a flawed man with some redeeming qualities who inexplicably got fixated on sexually abusing his daughter? Or was he a sociopath who merely pretended to be good sometimes, for appearances sake? The first theory presents […]
So it wasn’t just t-shirts that got me thinking the other night in my chocolate (and probably PMS) induced sleeplessness. I’m behind in my correspondence. It’s been years since I wrote dear old dad a letter, and him being (hopefully) close to his deathbed, perhaps it’s time to drop him a line. I sent him
Last night, I made the mistake of eating a bit too much chocolate before bed (it was worth it) and lay awake for awhile. My last post got me thinking about “Survivor Pride” and how I might incite it. “Incest Survivor Pride” has the wrong ring to it, I think, since I’m certainly not happy
Slogans for Survivor Pride Parades Read More »
As a lesbian, I’m no stranger to coming out. Coming out is the antidote to shame when you’re a gay person, a way of demonstrating to one’s own soul that you love yourself just the way you are. I live in Canada, where I can marry the person of my choice and no-one can fire
I spent the weekend with a bunch of friends and acquaintances at a storytelling retreat. At this same retreat last year was the first time I told people publicly that I intend to dance on my father’s grave. It was an incredibly important experience for me then, to speak of my loneliness being a high-functioning
Trying to make it Normal Read More »
I’m forty now. I haven’t had any children and I’ve decided not to try. It’s a good thing, really, that my spouse doesn’t want kids iether, since I’ve been thinking a lot about kids since I turned forty and if I didn’t have such an awesome birth control method, I might ambivalently allow myself to
What I might have been Read More »
Honour-bound, as I am to nominate some bloggy award winners (5) I’ve decided to start in manageable steps. Here’s the thing. A blog about “incest survivors, sprituality and ceremonies of justice” is kind of a conversation stopper. In order to be able to feel absolutely honest here, I’ve avoided any mention of who I am
Bloggy Award Nominations and Coming Out Read More »
There is this bit in the last book of the Harry Potter series, about how Lord Voldemort can’t die because a piece of his soul has been kept safe, all the time, inside Harry. I’ve been wondering, all this time, why my father hasn’t died yet. He’s old, he’s a heavy smoker, he’s had organs
Collecting the Soul Fragments Read More »
So I now have the sword I’m going to use to dance on my fathers grave, when he will do me and the world the favour of finally succumbing to cancer. It’s a tai chi sword, with a kind of feminine, watery feel to it, with a wooden handle and a red cord to hang
Sharpening the Sword to Dance on My Abusers Grave Read More »
When I was about 20 years old I realized how numb I was all the time. I remember concentrating really hard, but being unable to feel anything in my foot. No sensation of cold or warmth, only a faint sensation if my skin was touched, and literally no proprioception, no awareness of where my foot
I received an email today letting me know I’d won a bloggy award from butterfly of Reasons You Shouldn’t Fuck Kids. Butterfly said “I’ve awarded you the superior scribbler award, because I love this blog. Thank you for writing it.” I recommend her blog as well – it’s sword-sharp about the reality of living with
The holiday of Yule and Christmas are both associated with motherhood and the birth of a sun, son or new year. This holiday season is my first in several years without paying lip service to the idea that I still have a family. Last year, I went away to a ski resort with my spouse,
The Night of the Mother Read More »
Why am I publishing such personal information on the web? My therapist thinks that my process might be of value to others, and I’m proud of defying the silence that supported my abuser and unfortunately still supports the abusers that are raping children today. If incest and rape is taboo to talk about, it reinforces
Buying the sword to dance on my abusers grave. Read More »
The first time my father raped me I was about 5 years old. The last time, I’m not sure, maybe 13. He strangled me till I lost consciousness, possibly to stop me from screaming. I was so young that, not knowing what passing out from lack of air was, I deduced from the pain and the unconsciousness that I’d actually
May we outlive them all, and dance upon their graves Read More »
What kind of punishment suits my father? my mother? I’ve long thought that the punishment within my reach that would be most appropriate would be to sue him into poverty. An added bonus is that it would also take away my mom’s dubious reward for staying with him all those years, protecting their shared equity.
November 22nd. I have come to understand that my mother knew and chose to do nothing. When I was 18 or thereabouts, I wrote my mother a letter telling her what my father had done to me. That he’d raped me and sexually abused me, beginning when I was quite young and continuing for years.