Safe. Cherished. Loved.

I wrote this poem on October 25th, 2005. It was about a dream that I had about my Grandpa (the one who abused me). It was a very beautiful and healing experience for me to write this poem. I thought I'd share it, for two reasons. The first reason is that if it helps anyone else who has suffered a similar experience, that would be amazing. The second reason is simply that it is something very personal to me, and I'd like to share it with others.

Here it is:

He tried to be nice to me. He offered me a drink and tried to casually chat. He kept on changing into my Mom's dad. Back and forthe the two changed. The dialogue continued as though I was talking to the same man the whole time. I didn't seem to notice the difference. I guess in a lot of ways they have come to represent the same things to me. Stolen innocence. Lies. The planting of false truths into the mind of a child.

"If you let me do this to you, everything will be OK. You'll be safe. Cherished. Loved."

You come to believe that your sacrifice will save the family. From hurt. Shock. Anger. Most importantly, you will save your Mother from the loss of the man she trusted. The man she put her faith, her life, into. You'll save her from having her false sense of security ripped out of her soul. From re-living her pain, her betrayal, her confusion. Her pain, her betrayal, her confusion - given to her from her own 'him.'

All you have to do is stay silent. Close your eyes or focus intently on the light's reflection, the shade of yellow that covers the bed, the stucco patterns on the ceiling. And hope that it's quick. And hope that after, he'll tell you how special you are. That he'll re-plant that false truth inside your soul.

That everything will be OK. You'll be safe. Cherished. Loved.

Because at that moment, while it is happening, it doesn't feel as though that will ever be a possibility again.

He asked me how I was. He told me how beautiful I'd grown up to be.

I told him it was because I am happy. After all these years, the un-tangling of all the lies he wove in my mind. I am finally happy.

That's why I'm beautiful, I told him. Because I un-did what he had done.

It was at that moment. He admitted it. He admitted what he had done to me. He seemed so casual about it. As though he was telling me about a meal he ate 20 years ago. Not just any meal, but the best meal of his life. A meal he had never, ever forgotten, but held onto for all these years. The memories of it's taste had, in a sense, haunted him too.

But for him it was the haunting of some beautiful, un-imaginable dream that he once came close to touching, to reaching. Then he lost sight of it; it slipped away from him. I slipped away from him.

All these years, he has been imprisoned by the memory of me, and I never knew.

All these years, he has stopped himself from being happy. Because he saw something beautiful once. Me. And he tried own me; he did own me once.

His memory of the girl I used to be has haunted him for 20 years. My memory of the girl I used to be, the girl he so nearly destroyed, has haunted me for 20 years.

Our past; intertwined with one another's, left us both in chains.

But I am free now, and he is not. He never will be.

And all of my pain, my betrayal, my confusion; all of the feelings that my memories of him bring forth, seem to fall away. Because I am free now. And he is not.

And I know, without his reassurances, I know, that everything will be OK. I am safe. Cherished. Loved.

And I realize that, had he not done what he did, had he not been who he was to me, I always would have been. I have always been all the things I wanted him to see in me. He never really wanted to see those things in me; strength, love, beauty, compassion. He just wanted to see me trying to be who I thought he wanted me to be. He just wanted that power over me.

They say that strength, compassion, beauty; love; overcomes all.

I can believe them now. Because I am finally free.