The response I got after last night’s post were far from what I expected. Kind of makes me wish I’d done it sooner. It was incredibly cathartic to write what I did. I revealed a secret to the world that, before, not even my family or my husband knew about. I mentioned feeling like used goods. What five year old girl wouldn’t feel like trash after being molested?
One of my dear readers asked me how I overcame those feelings of feeling like “used goods”. I have to be honest. I didn’t. Not really. Even though I have come to appreciate myself for who I am, by the grace of God, through the love of family. Those feelings never really go away. Even though I don’t acknowledge that the feelings are there, I know they are. I constantly seek validation from my husband. I have to be reminded every now and then that my husband doesn’t just love me for my looks, which are spectacular from the chin up.
But seriously, even if I never think about what I’ve gone through, I think those feelings are a part of the emotional scar. I still look in the mirror and tell myself that I’m beautiful inside and out (that is while sucking in my gut), not because I know I am, but because deep inside there’s a little girl, still running scared, not trusting anyone. It’s strange to think of it that way, but sometimes I swear I see those little girl eyes staring back at me in the mirror wondering if she’ll ever be okay. It’s the same sad eyes I see on the picture displayed on my Canadian Citizenship card.
Of course those sad eyes just make me love her/me more. Like any scar, these things will fade over time, but they’ll never go away. Not until I enter those pearly gates and am presented with a new bodysuit. I’m holding on to that promise that every tear will be wiped away and all things will me made new. That’s when I’ll be rid of the scars for good! All of them!