My travel journal is a collection of pictures that represent my past,
present and future. It shows the state of mind I was in during this abusive
relationship over the years. Some feelings come and go with a bang; others
with a whisper. These pictures define the abuse: the fear, the sadness, the
anger, the confusion. One needs to define the relationship. What is right;
what is wrong; what is working; what doesn’t; and be able to answer the
questions: Who am I? How can I make it stop? And am I worth it? One needs
to answer these questions. Don’t wait. Time goes by so quickly. Life is
too precious to suffer and be unhappy. Help yourself and help others and
you will feel worthy and complete.

This is my journey to the center of the earth. Look out world here I come! My passport starts off with my journey through hell. The first few pages represent that journey of maltreatment which landed me in the house of secrets. While I was being abused time stood still. The fifth page of my passport represents opening up, letting go and washing my soul so I can grow. The last page of my passport represents what I have learned on my journey through the real game of life. Life is not always easy and if you let it, life can swallow you whole. We are never aware of the hand that life will deal us, therefore we must make the best of it, let go and keep moving.

When things fell apart
as I looked around
and saw all my life
clothed in tatters,
The heart held a sorrow
to shatter the soul
and bled like there’d be
no tomorrow.
Like losing a limb,
it all starts to bleed;
like breaking a heart,
it all comes apart;
like seams come apart,
it all, all
falls to pieces.
Oh Lord,
it all, all, all
falls to pieces.

In my suitcase my story is telling about my anger and my sadness and my
decision of whether to leave or not. We all have choices and decisions to
make. Traveling through the years was difficult for me, with its ups and
downs — traveling over mountain roads and paths. I had never in my life
thought I would learn to fear, hate and question. The wheel is a constant
metaphor for perpetual or constant motion. One must keep moving forward on
their journey. Regardless of their home situation, one has to keep moving
forward towards enlightenment, understanding of self and learning to become
a survivor, not a victim. It’s a difficult decision to know what to do. So
you need to seek safe help and tell a trusted individual or group. One of
many ways to cope is through the art process. Art helps one to grow, to
become in touch with one’s feelings, self awareness, a sense of self, a
feeling of power and control over one’s situation and to help better oneself
in making decisions that will save one’s life, one’s children, perhaps one’s
abuser. The angel in the suitcase is my guardian angel who has protected
me. It’s a blessing from God. The wheel in the bottom portion of the
suitcase contains a woman’s face. A wheel can take many forms in the role
of transportation and for me can also represent an endless circle of love
for oneself, family and community. So it has two meanings: Hope and
Escape. In my journey today, I can either leave or stay. My bag is packed
and I have a plane ticket. If I choose to leave now, I would be leaving
everything. That’s the decision on the wheel in the suitcase, written in
black and white. It’s the question mark, and the question keeps spinning in
my head.

Pain and horror can weigh tremendously. Through the passage of time healing occurs and you come to a place where the weight has been replaced by love.

Inner Suitcase
The inside of my suitcase is crying out for my little child… the one that was sexually abused and violated at such a young age. The bottom of the suitcase is black and covered with wire and glass because the wounds cut deeply and still affect me today with every intimate relationship that I have. If you notice the pink glitter and pretty flowers… they can be pretty again. The angel watches over the baby… the toddler, the preteen, and the teenager… all whom were violated… but all survived… each of them in their own way. The angels still watch over, protect, and comfort all of them.

The inner lid of my suitcase represents three women in my life; my sister, my Mother, and my Grandmother. They each have influenced me and been part of my life. My relationships with them have not been easy, but I do want to honor all three of them. My sister is all I have left of my female relatives.

The inside came together so quickly and brought out so many raw, uncomfortable emotions. I just wanted to close the suitcase, lock it up and throw away the key. But out it cries… out it insists… let go of the secrets… release the power they have over you… let them all go… easier said than done, sometimes the darkness still prevails.

Outside
Well lately I have been in a pink kind of mood, not sure why, pink was a color my Mom always wanted me to wear, so I refuse, and still today I don’t own any pink clothing! But from somewhere lately is coming all these feminine, girly feelings of wanting pink, painting in pink, stamping in pink, using pink glitter, wanting princess stuff… where will it end? The outside represents me happy, thriving, exploring and being willing to embrace all of me, the good and the bad. It represents being comfortable with who I am today with no regrets. It represents my strong, brave, womanly side who is finally confident in being who she is and thriving.

This passport makes me happy. It grants me permission to travel wherever I want. It’s like an E-Ticket to anywhere I can imagine and a guaranteed ride filled with happiness, a feeling of being cherished, and pure exhilarating love!

My Traveling Story suitcase represents my safe place. The inside is my heart, my sanctuary for all the things I love and hold on to. It also represents the realization that what you hold on to in order to survive can serve you well, but there is a time when it is no longer needed and you must move on.

Growing up I assumed everyone experienced the abuse that I did. This suitcase reflects the positive side of my childhood which I’m bringing with me moving forward.

Life is good! So I say, Life is even better now, I no longer hurt myself “to clean” myself. Now I understand what happened to me was not my doing. I am on my way to healing painful wounds and memories. Life is really good now!

Life is good! So I say, Life is even better now, I no longer hurt myself “to clean” myslef. Now I understand what happened to me was not my doing. I am on my way to healing painful wounds and memories. Life is really good now!

My suitcase is my baggage, my wounds. They float along being carried, being dropped, being swept away by the waves of ebb and flow to become whole.

This my passport to tranquility—to peace—to wisdom—to love myself fully, deeply and unconditionally.

It can happen to anyone, but as long as you have the will to move out of it the love to continue life, and hope for a better future then strength will come from within. The six kids and stars symbolize the children of my mother-in-law. My mother-in-law passed away and left six young men, she was a victim of domestic violence.

My heart is blooming,
Growing into the woman
I always wanted to be
Growing in leaps and bounds.
Sun kissed layers
Petals unraveling,
Exposing my true core
A survivor
A survivor who never looks back.

I had to hide my unhappiness but now that I’m free I can be myself again. The map is because if he didn’t want me to go somewhere I couldn’t go no matter if they were family. Our happiness with each other was a lie. The word power on the front is the power and control I let my boyfriend have over me. He pulled my hair, controlled what I ate and wore. The longer we were together the more controlling he became and the less free I was. The back represents my freedom, the purple is the hurt I struggle with everyday. But I am overcoming that hurt with everyday that passes. The green represents that I was always hiding what was going on so that no one knew the truth about the verbal, mental and physical abuse.

Courage, Strength, Realize

Antes me sentia perdida, sin encontrar la salida, pero ahora no quiero mirar atras a las tristezas que pasaron y ahora solo quiero mirar cosas bonitas. Todo quedo atras. Este es mi pasaporte a la felicidad, lleno de colorss vivios por que quiero para mi una vida mejor, llena de esperanza, imaginacion, y suenos. Tambien quiero mencionar que mi titulo se llama “Flor” por que ella fue la unica que me apoyo cuando mas lo nececite.
—
I used to feel lost, without a point of exit, but now I don’t want to look back at the sadness that happened in my life, now I only want to experience good things. I left everything behind. This is my passport to happiness, full of vivid colors because I want a better life for myself full of hope, imagination, and dreams. I also want to mention that my piece is titled “Flor” because she was the only one that supported me when I needed it most.

Love is a gift, and it is yours to give. Don’t forget how precious it is, and when you give it, it should be returned. There are examples of what love is from the book of First Corinthians, love should always and only be expressed this way.

A happy childhood, running and playing in orange groves, dreams of being a writer confident of who I was inside… All forgotten and set aside by mean words, unconsciously given by family and teachers. Then buried deep by an abusive husband. Many years then filled with fear and darkness. No light; no hope. Only when I left did I begin to believe in myself again, rejoice in my creativity, spread my wings to fly and really enjoy who I am.

The blue represents my tears. The small box represents the world he pictured, “a perfect world.” I couldn’t escape, there was no escape. The outside represents my freedom, I can make mistakes and nobody is going to hurt me. There is a beautiful world awaiting for me to discover. I’m flying solo.

My first experience of domestic violence was with my family when I was very young.
My second experience with domestic violence occurred when I left my country and family and came here to the United States. The third time I was hurt I thought it was ok. But when he hurt my baby, that triggered a lot of emotions. The black feather in my piece represents a hard life and violence. The stars with the feathers represent that we’re alone, and starting a new beginning with something good and better. I wish to be with my daughter again, I miss her, and I love her.

Ahora puedo ver que todo es hermoso; puedo sonreir, valorizarme, y saber que dentro de mi existe amor. Eso es lo mas importante.
——
Now I can see that everything is beautiful; I can smile, value myself, and know that love exists inside of me. That is the most important thing.

Many words of pain can turn into words of healing. Having the “courage” to leave is the beginning of the healing process.

I am a survivor of domestic violence. My first abuser was physical. The second was verbal. Both relationships were very painful, both physical and emotional.

My artwork represents my abusers who made me feel ugly, unwanted, and unloved. When I knew I had had enough pain I had the courage to leave my abusive relationship and start to heal.

I am looking forward to changing my life and allowing my self-esteem to grow and never allow myself to be abused again. I feel gratitude to the House of Ruth Shelter, for being there to help us abused women find shelter, much needed counseling, support groups and safety.

My treasure, my brother and sister. I think about my brother and sister, who were taken from me, because they had a short life. I love both of them, they will stay in my heart forever and ever. I love to be with friends who really want to give me love. I love my friends, my brother Derek, my sister Ariel, also my mom, dad, and my baby sister. Even though I have a lot of anger at our batterer, I thank him because I wouldn’t be here today with this type of strength. I thank him a lot; it’s unusual for me, an 11 year old. Hopefully someday I will be a famous singer and softball player for UCLA. It’s hard for me to be so strong, but I work through it.

My short life with the experience of my brother and sister. My UCLA dreams to success and softball. No one or Nobody will tear up my dreams I will get my life, I saw what has happened to loved ones and I will not let this happen to me. I don’t want to be hurt physically or mentally by a man. This world I dream of is a no violence world.

I’m going to smile because I deserve to. That’s my new journey. It is time for me to smile and be happy. For years I didn’t smile. But, it’s MY TURN!

The inner lid with three butterflies represents my children with me today D, A and A. The things that keep me going are my children, my boyfriend and school. The thing that keeps me healing are my twins, who were ripped from my womb. That monster thought it was up to him to end their lives and attempt to end mine. My babies are gone in spirit but never in my heart. Inside and outside of my box are five stars, the stars in my life, my children, myself and my boyfriend who is a strong solid source in my life. The three hands represent my little boogers, hands always out wanting and me trying to fill them as much as I can. All I want is honesty and no lies now. The mirror reminds me to always be aware. Inside my box, my babies are resting in peace. The quote I included inside my box, “It’ll last a long time” reminds me that both the pain and the healing will always be there. The color pink represents my girls, blue, my boy, black, my twins, orange, my man, green, me and yellow, what is to come!!!!!

/

This piece of art is a story of the pain, the suffering, the things I have been through. I myself with my children have been through so much hurt.

This road was bumpy and rocky for some time. I thought the bumps would never end and I thought I was stuck. I thought it would just continue and get worse. I even began to start making plans for who would care for my children. I was writing letters to my girls telling them I was sorry I was helpless and couldn’t help myself. As the journey ended I told myself never again would I allow this to happen to me and my children. My twins were ripped from my body and killed before they got a breath of fresh air. My girls never got the chance to hold their brother or sister. We never got the chance to name my little girl, my boy was named from day one.

Wow, where I am is in a safe loving relationship with my children and they are all included in everything. Where I want to be in the future, is a teacher with my own classroom and after graduating college I want to be married. I want happiness. I want to be respected and I want to help women and children who have survived domestic violence.

Once I broke free and started healing is when life really began. I am thankful to have such loving and devoted family and friends. I don’t know what I would have done without them. When I was with my ex-husband I was isolated from all of them. I felt hopeless. Now, everyday is new, with experiences, joy and hope. Three years later I am still healing and find that each and every experience has a hint of new healing within myself. How far I have come, and how far I still need to go.

God and his son Jesus Christ gave me the Visa I needed to live life as a free and prosperous person. I have the choice of traveling where I want to, and how I live my life is truly up to me. There are many dreams, places, and things that I want to do. My place in this world is yet to be found and fulfilled. I know that I have the gift of being a mother, and I have to earn that gift. It is a privilege to be a parent, not a right, and many of us take that for granted. Think of the miracle of how growth occurs in life. Plant a flower in winter and you will find out how difficult it is to make it grow. The same goes for parents who bring children into this world and then decide not to tend to them. It is impossible for a seed to grow and develop without proper care. Even animals know this by their instincts. Take lions for example, they protect their cubs, teach them how to hunt, survive, and they prepare them for life’s challenges. Even wolfs are sometimes more “civilized” than us. Wolfs take one mate, stay with her for life, and are always together in packs to protect each other. God gives us the free will to choose. I choose to follow him and believe in Christ. I know that Christ will deliver me and set me free. Christ paid for my Visa and “Passport to Freedom” with his own blood. All that is left for my household and me is to serve him and his reign in this life and the next.

Life is a journey that everyone has to embark on, many times we take U-turns, other times we get lost, but mostly we tend to go in circles for the safety of what we already know, so that we don’t have to venture out into the unknown. Living becomes existence (survival), not living. We learn from our families and role models every action, how to walk, eat, we develop passion for games, sports, music, etc. Family and those close to us have a deep impact in our lives and their lives become the way of life for us.

I developed a love for the game (domestic violence) too. I don’t know where I developed a love for the game of DV, I guess I was trying to fit in, for guys to like me. I accepted everything and anything, but I never developed a voice. I learned that if I stayed quiet things would be over much faster. Every time I opened my mouth to say something things tended to get nasty and the consequences were bigger. I wanted approval for everything. The blue doll represents that longing for approval and me searching for answers, protection, love and everything else a child needs and wants, everything a human being deserves. Later in life I learned that only God can fill that emptiness of whatever was missing in my life. God and his son Jesus Christ fill me with joy, love, and understanding. They are the only ones who meet all my needs. I wasn’t always like this, peaceful and full of hope, faith, and joy, with a bright future. I always looked in empty places for love and protection that I never received as a child. When I was abused and touched by my uncle there was no one to protect or defend me. I swore that I would find a boyfriend or husband to protect me from him. Even though he was miles away and later on dead I kept searching for that protection in fear that he one day might come for me. Alcohol didn’t help, it only gave me more anxiety and my love for the game gave me bruises internally and externally, talk about those curve balls. I met my biggest batter (abusive partner) and “recruited him” (married him) to my team. I did not hit a home run until I realized that he had to be fired from the team. By then my team had acquired a new member and I had to protect the new star (my son). Many times I went from first base (honeymoon phase) and all the way to third (explosion phase). Third base was always the hardest, and I could never score (escape). From first base I ran to third and then back again, always skipping that important HOME RUN (getting out of the relationship). It took a rude awakening before I finally hit a home run. My star player almost got hit in the head by his fist when he attempted to hit me. I knew that I had to fire my recruit before he hurt my star player, not realizing that my star player was already hurting. His wounds were not physical,but internal. My star player left with me and suffered from the same wounds that I had endured many times before. We did finally exit the game with a huge home run, but not before enduring physical, psychological, emotional, sexual, financial, and many more losses. We quit playing and are trying to heal. My physical wounds have healed, but my inner wounds are only patched up with layers and layers of tape and bandages. There is no quick fix and not much time for me. I am the manager of my team and my star player received much deeper wounds than I’d ever imagined. I thought that because he was only a baby (newborn to one year old) he had not been affected by the curve balls that the batterer had thrown at us. I was wrong. There was no physical evidence, but internally he was bleeding, crying for protection, love, understanding, and everything else a child deserves and needs. Now I have to be a nurse, a protector, and a reassuring force that assures him that there is no dragon waiting to come and hurt him. We are trying to stay away from the game but it seems that the referees (the court, the judges, mediators, etc.) want us back in the game!!! There is no negotiation, no contract big enough to make us go back and play. I wrote this for men out there hoping that they might understand what really happens in a domestic violence relationship.

We think that it is not our problem, but closing your curtains or doors can not silence the screams that you hear next door. The next time you hear those screams remember they may be from your best friend, your sister, your daughter, or any other important person close to your heart. The journey is long and hard. I got tired of going around in circles and now we are learning to live, love and travel through life. Venturing out is our goal everyday. The road ahead is uncertain but one thing is clear; that God is with us and the cycle of violence ends here. My star player is showered with praises and encouraging words everyday. I give him reassurance, protection and everything a child needs to grow up healthy, and secure with good self-esteem. Most of all he has God and I am teaching him that with faith and hope in God everything is possible. The fight goes on to keep us safe but I keep my eyes on a new ball. That ball is everlasting, ever truthful and always loyal, that ball is Jesus Christ. After all, he died so that we may live fruitful and plentiful lives. As for my star player and i our traveling story is not over. We now have the freedom to laugh, play, and make plans for the future. We have peace, joy and are working on plans for a better tomorrow.

GET HELP!!! Tell someone.

The bottom half is my childhood. The top half is my young adulthood. As you look at the bottom from left to right you’ll see my poor mother, Rosa Aurelia. It means golden rose. Her wedding dress is covered in tears because my father beat and raped her on her wedding night. She was a virgin.

The dog collar represents her love for my father. What should have been a beautiful sparkling love was a choker around her neck; used to control her. The make up to cover her bruises. The broken ruler because there was no rhyme or reason to what pleased him.

The two small girls, one blond and one pink, represent me and my desire for a parallel universe because this could not be my family. My real family was on the other side of the street, the block, the lake… Every night I tried to get to the other side in my nightmares. I didn’t stop having nightmares until I was an adult.

The girl with green hair is my poor sister. She was my only comfort. I’m afraid I wasn’t any comfort to her. One day I talked back to my father. He started to break things. My mother grabbed me. I grabbed my sister. When my mother pulled me, I lost my grasp. He beat her on the buttocks until the welts were black and blue. I could hear her scream for hours. No one helped. I was 8; she was 7.

The girl in orange is me. The shirt reads “0 girl power” because there was no girl power in my house. The hand is the neighbor who was grooming me to molest me later. My father thought he was there for my mother. He beat her until she lost the babies- twins.
The sheet of music is covered with blood and tears; mine and my sister’s. We were taught guitar. We were gifted musicians but he tortured us with lessons. A mistake would be a beating. The beauty of the music was lost because of his cruelty.

The poppers represent my father’s explosive temper. Then I realized they looked like sperm. He always wanted boys but only made girls. That’s probably why I became a soldier and a police officer.

The veil is for the secrecy which shrouded everything; Don’t tell about the beatings. Don’t tell about the sexual molestation. Don’t have people over. Don’t have friends. Don’t visit family. We moved four or five times a year; every time the neighbors found out.
The pills and booze led to my mother’s grave. She never recovered. Her spirit was broken. She stuck around long enough for my sister and I to become adults. Then she gave up, got sick, and died.

On top you see my tools. They’re self explanatory. Knowledge. Learn as much as possible to understand what happened. The mirror is for self-examination. I need to check myself so I don’t perpetuate the sick mental and emotional patterns. The string of pearls is so I stop doing that. I need to let go and step back and remind myself I’m not eight years old; I’m not emotionally crippled; I’m not in an abusive relationship, etc. etc. etc.

My children are not in this piece because they don’t know domestic violence. I broke the cycle. It stopped with me. I did that and my children are happy, healthy and thriving.

GET HELP. Tell someone.

In this project I wanted to show my journey back home, which is represented by love. I believe that we all begin our journey in life from a place of love, a gift given to us by God. However, during our childhood, some of us are not shown or taught this, so our paths may stray. I believe that is what happened to me. My path strayed to abusive relationships, including a marriage full of domestic violence.

This project reveals a lot about what I endured during the eight years I was married to an abusive, raging alcoholic. In the beginning, I thought our lives and our marriage were going to be happy, fun, and full of excitement just as when we were dating. After the honeymoon was over, everything changed. I didn’t want to see it. I didn’t want to believe it. I thought that eventually everything would work out. I thought that I could make things better. I started living in denial. I did not want to face the facts that I had married a monster who terrorized me, threatened me, and ridiculed everything about me from the color of my eyes to the size of my feet and everything in between. I married a product of domestic violence who was continuing the cycle. He abused me verbally, physically, and sexually. And still, I did not want to face it. I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t that bad and that it could get better. I covered for him, made excuses for him, and started to believe what he told me. With the cycle of abuse came the lies and the pleading. His words won me over time and time again. He convinced me that he would change, that things would be better again if only…

There was a new excuse every time, but the results were always the same. The cycle would begin again. And again. And again.

Eventually, I walked away from him and into reality. It took a long time between the time I faced reality and the time I actually left him. I felt empty and soulless for a long time. When I faced the abuse, I got help. I finally reached out for help and got the support I needed to take the risk to stand up to him, to protect myself and my two year old daughter, and to leave him for good. That is when I started my life over. I was not abandoned by God. My life was not destined to be unhappy and miserable because I made some poor choices when I was young. I got a second chance to make my life what I wanted it to be, peaceful and full of love.

My journey depicted in my suitcase begins with that marriage and comes full circle to where I am today, back home with my daughter, showing and teaching her love. My hope is that she learns what she needs to know so that the cycle does not repeat, and the chain is broken. I have been free for exactly 5 years, and I have moved on with my life. Today I have a new marriage to a man who treats me with respect, nurturing, and independence. I have worked hard to get where I am today, happy, joyous, and free.

The outer part of my suitcase is blue, yellow and green to represent the ocean, the sun and nature, all of which feed me and allow me to grow. The statements are words to live by. I especially believe that telling your loved ones that you love them every time you see them is of the utmost importance.

Looking on the outside one would never anticipate the darkness that lies beneath. Upon opening my suitcase you are given a glimpse into my secret identity. The doll represents the happy and well adjusted facade that I conveyed for so long that even I believed it. The trauma did surface, and when it did my tears fell like rain and created my own ocean of tears. The over stuffed pouches represent all of the secrets, experiences and feelings I kept buried deep inside. All of these were buried so deep, a garden grew over them, again masking my pain. Once you dig deeper you’ll find a verbal depiction of how the sexual abuse I experienced affected all of my intimate relationships. Only later in life did I realize it was not normal to cry after a sexual encounter and that the confused and conflicted feelings I felt towards those I was intimate with were yet another manifestation of my abusive past. The main problem was that I didn’t realize it was abuse until much later. I always thought that the sexual abuse was my fault because I never fought them off. From childhood to adulthood whenever the abuse took place I automatically detached myself and went numb. Each time it occurred reinforced my unconscious coping mechanism of lying quietly pretending to be asleep. My large red and pink vagina is being violated by seven hands. One hand to represent each of the seven different men who violated me. But they didn’t break me, I won’t allow it! I continue to grow and disarm my traumatic past everyday!

When I was a child I was abused by an out-of-town relative which only brought up memories of an earlier incident with another relative. I didn’t tell anybody for years. Then somebody guessed. They urged me to tell my parents. But when I did I only told part of one story. Since what I had actually verbalized didn’t seem too bad I was pretty much told to forget about it. I was ashamed to tell anymore and ashamed that I let this happen to me. I also felt that my otherwise loving, supportive, and wise parents could maybe just not handle my reality. I withdrew from connecting with them and tried to forget. I had horrible dreams, all the time, became panicked for no reason, and severely depressed. I would burn my hands and arms with hot wax to take myself out of my thoughts and make myself feel a pain I could handle. I felt like nobody cared for me because nobody seemed to notice that I wasn’t okay, nobody asked me what was wrong. My grandmother had always implied that I was ugly because I was so skinny and children at school made fun of me for it too. So when everybody started dating I decided to not even try to find a boyfriend. When somebody came along I was grateful for any form of attention. Even if that meant doing things I was uncomfortable with. Then I met a boy at church. At first he was sweet, not pushy and even told me he loved me. Everything was wonderful for the first six months but he became less understanding after we slept together. My moments of panic would bring out his anger, not sympathy. I was a great student but instead of being proud of my accomplishments he would counter them by making me feel stupid. The longer we were together the worse the verbal abuse got. Then he began throwing things at me when we would fight. He became overly jealous of my best friend and monopolized most of my time so I couldn’t make new friends. I knew he wasn’t right but I loved him and saw his pain, his worries, and his anxiety (he was always worried I’d find “something better”) and ignored mine. Finally, I noticed how poorly his mother treated his father. I learned that his father used to be abusive to his mother and did not change his ways until he “found God.” All this time I was hoping that somehow my boyfriend would eventually get better (which was a long shot at that) but I didn’t realize how he was scarring me until I saw these same scars on his mother. Even if he did get better, I wouldn’t be able to forget, I would probably end up like her, never satisfied, never over it, always worried that he’d go back to treating me this poorly again, always having to keep him under my thumb so I wasn’t under his. I finally moved on from him but was scared to have any kind of serious relationship. I would still have nightmares of my past and still felt ugly, too skinny and still too screwed up to be happy. Finally I sought help and dealt with my issues. I finally admitted to somebody what went on when I was younger and admitted that I felt responsible for it. Then I finally moved past it. I am now finally happy with myself.

Now I lay me down to sleep
And pray that he won’t creep
Into my room and under my sheets
As I lay there pretending to sleep
Ashamed and scared to even speak
Who would believe this is happening to me
All alone and full of confusion
Not able to cry or show amusement
What do I do and where do I go
Do I tell or hold the unknown
He says “let’s play a little game”
It’s only for daddy and his little dame.
Hold still don’t run
Keep it a secret tell no one
You’re so pretty soft and smooth
Daddy’s scary when he drools and whispers
Don’t you MOVE!
Open you eyes “it’s just my Dick”
“Now be a good girl and give it a big kiss.”
I’m very scared and cannot move,
Here it comes what do I do?
Help me God, I’m so afraid
Make him STOP and go away
Please don’t wait until Judgment Day
He played this game for years to cum
And I just laid there practically numb
No more secrets no more lies
Some days I just crawl and hide
Help GOD to see my strength
Give me courage to stay awake
To tell my secret and cry out loud
And hopefully protect another child.
AMEN.

The silver spoon represents my childhood as I was not born a child of privilege. The butterflies symbolize freedom. The happy pasture with a pink sky that serves as the backdrop is where I used to go in my head to escape while I was being abused. Mentally I would take myself to a safe place, a field of flowers far away, to cope with what was happening to me.

Let go and allow yourself to be free. Do not allow anyone to keep control over who you are. There are so many lost and confusing thoughts after someone has experienced domestic violence. My suitcase represents how one should feel and what one should seek afterwards. Most people loose faith and feel helpless but in this suitcase there is no room to feel these ways. There’s something to look forward to now, love and happiness. I found my happiness through keeping flowers around my house and creating a zen and relaxed environment in my home. If you can learn to be happy afterwards then you can reassure yourself that you are not helpless and you deserve to be loved. But first, in order to love anyone you need to learn how to love yourself. The color purple is the color for domestic violence awareness, it is also my favorite color. The flowers are what made me happy and the monk is the relaxed feeling I tried to incorporate in my home.

Thank you so much for giving us this wonderful opportunity to express ourselves about the abuse we’ve encountered in our lives. I used to be embarrassed to let anyone know because I thought they would think I’m crazy but this opportunity allowed me to be okay with it so thank you so very much.