This blog is about connecting the dots in my life. Part 1 reminds me of something I share with thousands of young children. Here’s my attempt to show and tell what I mean. Read the rest of this entry »
wind-whipped branches writhe
nestling birds cling for dear life
nature on rampage
* * * * *
It’s 3:00 am
I’m alone in the house Read the rest of this entry »
I can’t hide from that all-seeing eye of God watching me day and night to make sure I’m being a good little girl. It follows me through life. Not an eye of Goodness and Mercy, but of Judgment and Contempt.
I’m lost
It’s the 1980s. I’m 40-something. I claim I’m a follower of Jesus Christ. Yet I’m lost in fear, self-contempt, confusion, a judgmental spirit, and the vain belief that I can fix other people’s lives. If only they would just listen to me! Read the rest of this entry »
I haven’t always called myself God’s beloved daughter-child. For years I wouldn’t have dared presume such a high-minded view of myself. How did this happen? And how might this help me think about what I believed when I was 11 years old?
This post is about the first question: How did this happen? The second will wait. Thanks for being patient. If I don’t address today’s topic first, I’ll end up picking my childhood theology to pieces. Read the rest of this entry »
It’s 1960. I’m 16 years old and I just graduated from high school. I thought you’d like to see how I filled in the gaps between Daddy’s Sex Ed 101 and my graduation.
My Sex Ed 102 Learning Resources with Annotations by Me
*My parents’ everyday relationship with each other. Mother seems to have no voice and no vote. Read the rest of this entry »
Daddy, Mother, Elouise. Until I started blogging, I was interested mainly in the meaning of my name. Now that I’m blogging I’m getting questions about the way I use other ‘names’: Daddy, my father, and Mother. I’m also thinking again about my name. Does it matter? Read the rest of this entry »
For years I knew Daddy’s beatings and rules didn’t give the full story about how I was groomed to be a victim. Yet I’ve never spoken publicly about the full story. I didn’t have a clue how to talk about it safely. Besides, who would believe my report? Especially if they knew my father. Read the rest of this entry »
It took more than beatings and Good Girl Rules to groom me to be a victim. It also took small, calculated and uncalculated, direct and indirect intrusions on my body, my spirit, my mind and my emotions. I call it the air I breathed.
Beatings have a distinct advantage over the air I breathe. Read the rest of this entry »
When I read through my list of survival rules, my heart sinks. By age 7 or 8 I’ve found a way to do what Daddy wants me to do by explaining it to myself my way. For all my supposed independent thinking and determination to be my own person with my own will and my own voice, I failed. Or did I? Read the rest of this entry »
Until the last two weeks, this question never crossed my mind. Now I can’t leave it alone. If the answer is Yes, how can that be? As noted in Unpacking My Suitcase, I’m not yet sexually aware. But I’m carrying an unwelcome load of something in my female body and spirit. Read the rest of this entry »
Telling the Truth 