(This doesn't have to do with angels, but no more hiding! I will say, it helped bring me to awareness of the power of self-love/positivity and therefore, the angels.) I can't believe I'm finally sharing a little bit of my story, but it was time to release it so maybe others can release their story/pain too. Time to celebrate strength and truth! No shame! I was inspired by International Women's Day, back in 3/8/14, to write this post:)
CLEARING THE MISTS OF TIME
One word, but so many words unspoken.
It had been 25 years since I had heard that voice on the other end of the phone and I didn't recognize the phone number on my cell phone when I picked up the phone.
Yet, within seconds of hearing the one word greeting, I knew who was on the phone. He didn't say his name, didn't have to.
How does that happen?
Like voice recognition deep within cell memory.
It was an ex-boyfriend from long ago, when I was a teen and I believed in princes saving princesses in distress.
The years rolled back ,
and I was that young girl again, for a moment.
I remembered the good times with my ex (the caller on the phone), when he was like a gallant, dark-haired prince in his black, vintage Camaro with the rainbow pin-striping and I was a funky princess, waiting to be rescued from darkness.
Yes, the memories all started coming back to me.
Memories of the darkness too...
I then realized the date today and its significance to this blast from the past.
March 8, International Women's Day, celebrating the strength of women everywhere.
March 8, the birthday of the 20 year old man who raped me when I was a 16 year old girl.
Why do I remember his birthdate? Why?
Like date recognition deep within cell memory.
The rapist was an acquaintance whom I had met at a party, 2 weeks prior to the "rape night". He was 20, a college guy, tan, blonde, green-eyed, a soccer-playing All-American kind of male. I was a confused, punk-rocker/metal chick wannabe. My thick black eyeliner and eternally black clothing choices were what I wore to disguise the sensitive artist/hippie chick within.
A classic case of never judging books by their covers! Mr. Clean Cut rapes Edgy-Looking Metalhead Chick. No one believed Metal Chick's story. Mr. Clean Cut was so charming to others. Metal Chick stops asking for help and resigns herself at the time to half a life.
Mr. Clean Cut rapist was a manipulator/stalker and he was good at it. He wanted to keep me under his control as his girlfriend. I bided my time. I had a plan. I felt trapped and stayed with him for 2 1/2 years, until I could escape out of town to go to college.
Part of keeping my sanity at that time in my high school life, was having my secret "Knight in shining Camaro" whom I would sneak out with when I could, away from my stalker, rapist boyfriend, riding around like a princess rescued from her imprisoning tower, if only for a couple of hours.
Ahhh, sweet freedom.
I remember that feeling like it was yesterday with the wind streaming through my hair as the Camaro drove through the night, reminding me to keep hope and patience for an easy, happy future.
It was like I had the White Knight with dark hair and the Black Knight with blonde hair, the yin and the yang, at the same time, balancing out the scales of good and evil, of love and control.
All three of us, the Black Knight, the White Knight and the Funky Princess eventually all went our separate ways when I made my escape to the city for college, as I had planned. That's where I met my True Love, who taught me that I was my own Knight in shining armor and helped me learn to love myself first.
Enough of that story for now......Fast forward all these years later...
Why is all this coming around again in my thoughts now, 3/8/14, with that one phone call, clearing the mists of time?
I have a psychologist friend who thinks its because the time has come for me to acknowledge the love in all the darkness of the past and to help hold that thought in my healing of the past thoughts.
I wonder if perhaps, the Universe wants me to recognize myself as a strong woman on International Women's Day and to see the strong girl that survived the turmoils of a dark night of the soul. To recognize that there are many women, quietly keeping their story deep within them.
I know I am not the only woman to have survived some version of 3 years of molestation in grade school (that's a whole other story!) and date rape as a teen.
If I am brave and I share this story today, I speak for quiet women survivors everwhere.
The brave women survivors could be your mother, your sister, your friend, your daughter.
Maybe their incident happened long ago, lost in the mists of time, yet still in need of healing.
Trust me, the years may pass, but the soul looks for clarity and peace to make sense of the senseless. Sometimes this shows up out of the blue; the phone call from the past, a picture on facebook, the doctor visit that brings tears for some reason, the news story of a senseless act.
And the mists of time clear, and the memories come back, begging for sorting, crying to be acknowledged.
My psychologist friend contends that if it comes back around, it's meant to be dealt with in a healthier way, so one can finally be set free of past turmoil or else it will come around another way, another time to be dealt with again.
My prayer, on this day of celebrating the strength of women, is that each woman finds their own Inner Knight and learns to love herself as much as she loves others.
I also pray that everyone can look someday and see the love that shines even in the darkest night of the soul, through the mists of time.
Love, light and shine bright!
ps- The numerology aspects of the 8 and the 3 is interesting too, since 3/8 is the date of all this clarity. The 3 is about expressing one's self and the eight is about success , prosperity and power. They add up to 11, which is a number of higher purpose. I choose to think that this is a great empowering time to finally let my story out in the hopes that it can somehow empower others.