Mirror, mirror on the wall...
Last night I dreamed of something hard. I woke tense with a heavy cloud hanging over me that had nothing at all to do with the rainy wintry day outside. I carried the heaviness with me into the kitchen to get coffee. I sat with it as I sipped from my cup and made our breakfast. I walked with it as I did the few chores I needed to do.
And then I came into my workroom to write the morning pages and found myself writing about the dream. I didn't go into deep details. They aren't necessary. But it's what I did after my brief description of the dream that resonated hard with me. Because you see it wasn't just a dream. It actually happened to me, and I dreamed a memory I'd pushed hard into the background.
While I have never before shared an actual entry with you all, I'm going to share a portion of what I wrote this morning.
...I release that trauma. I release my own feelings of guilt and shame. I let go of it now, once and for all. I release my anger and the betrayal of (my ex) and (a local official). It's done. It's over. I do not need to carry this into my future. It can serve no further purpose in my life. It is over.
I suddenly felt so light and so unburdened. The clouds lifted internally.
Perhaps my psyche knew this was something that needed to be unpacked and removed before I journey forward another step, hence the dream. It forced me to stop and look at this incident in my life once again. Like all trauma, it must be seen in the light of now not just in the light of the past.
But I need to do something in order to move on.
I don't need to share the story of what happened to me. I've tried but it feels wrong. So I've deleted all that part of this story. But I know that I have to share this part.
I have to forgive me. Or at least the young woman I was then.
I forgive the young woman who had no idea that she had a right to be protected and defended by those who didn't prove capable of either of those things. I forgive the woman who stayed silent. I forgive the woman who felt embarrassed, and shamed. I forgive the woman who felt guilty because she'd been harmed. I forgive the woman who blamed herself. I forgive the woman who believed she deserved to have horrible things happen to her. I forgive the woman who was so unloved that she didn't recognize her right to feel secure and safe within her marriage her family, or her community.
I release her. She was young and vulnerable. She had no one willing to protect her.
I can't protect her now. I can't change what happened to her. I can't do anything at all for her, but I can look at her from this distance and say, "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve it. You didn't set the stage for it to happen. You weren't to blame. You shouldn't have felt shame."
The past is over. It's done. And maybe now, I can move freely on.









