Thursday, April 23, 2009

How can a woman really be a molester?

I was watching a show the other day where they were talking about the abduction, rape and murder of the 8 year-old girl, Sandra Cantu. What an incredible sorrow. Many are asking, could the woman accused, Melissa Huckaby, really have done it? Women molesters are so rare, it's just improbable.

Well, it does happen. It happened to me. I haven't thought a lot about it over the years, and when I have, I haven't tried to recall details. The other molestations that I experienced were by peripheral family members, and they affected me much more profoundly because of that breech of trust. But I will never forget it.

The most vivid image in my mind of this molestation experience is looking out the window of the camping trailer and seeing my family's campsite. We had a campsite near a lake that we would visit quite frequently every summer when I was a kid. Our trailer sat between two other campsites. Our neighbors to one side had two teen girls who were often accompanied by their male cousin. I don't know exactly how old I was, maybe around 4-6 years, when it happened, and thankfully it only happened once. But I can still call up the emptiness that I felt as I stared out that window.

I have no idea what might make somebody think about hurting a child, especially sexually. I have gone over many times in my head if there is any possible way that I acted inappropriately, if there was any way I could have done anything to stop these acts--of course, my rational mind knows that a child as young as I was could not have done anything to invite these things to happen. I know that, but it still comes into my mind when I start thinking about it.

I am so thankful that God protected me from some very terrible possibilities. I know that He has a plan and purpose for everything. Why did I go through so many things at such a young age? I don't know. All I can do is try to help other people by sharing my experiences, my feelings, my ways of coping, how I've dealt with things, or not dealt with them.

All things work together for good.

I hope that they find whoever did this horrible thing to little Sandra, if it was Melissa Huckaby or not. I hope they prosecute to the fullest extent of the law. I also hope that this society would take more care and pay more attention to what is going on with other people--and more importantly, pay more attention to what is going on with their children!

I think that this is one of the greatest issues that America faces, the loss of our youth. It's been getting worse as time passes. I'm part of Generation X, I know how our generation took a bigger step away from authority, away from God. I also think our families were quite occupied with work and having "better lives" than their parents did. Now, as I watch it seems that people are becoming incredibly egocentric and are not concerned about the real welfare of others, not concerned for the hearts, minds, and souls of people around them.

I am as guilty as everyone else. I sit in my house, whether in pain, depressed, or just plain lazy, and watch the world go by through my glass bubble. I need to get out there, I need to get dirty, I need to hold people while they cry, smack their backs while they laugh, help them become better people, help them know the love of God. I want that, but apparently not bad enough to try harder. I want to be better, I want to help people be better, but I need to make it happen. It won't happen by itself.

I've had a tough week this week, both physically and mentally. I've been in a lot of pain, and have been depressed. When these days are so overwhelming like they've been, I feel like I'm deflated, like there's nothing left of me, like I can't move one more inch. My brain knows I need to make the effort, but my brain also won't take that step. I want to, I want to overcome it, I want to beat this pain and sorrow down, I want to kick butt, not get butt kicked, but here I am. I want to rage, and yet, when I need to the most, I fall over weeping.

Ironically Monday I had an awesome counseling session and felt really good, felt like I was making incredible changes and that I had made it over a hurdle. Tuesday I woke up rather melancholy thinking about how many ways I'm failing, how I need to do better, be better, and ended up spiralling into a huge bout of pain and depression. My mom had pointed out to me that she thinks there's a pattern, that when I'm getting ready to have a huge fibromyalgia flare up that this happens. I think she may be right, and yet, I am blaming myself for not doing enough.

As I've said before, I need to pray more. I need to pray without ceasing, I need to focus on God. I know these things...

If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them.

I don't know what to think. I think I'm tired of thinking. I know I over-think things. I know that I need to do and not think, but on the days I can't do, then I think. I feel like I'm a rat on the wheel, I keep going in circles and never really get ahead.

I don't know how I ended up here considering where this post began.

So, anyway, yes, women can molest. Not just some freaky woman down the street either, but can literally be the girls right next door. Take my word for it.

Jan

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Love, Actually

It's been way too long since I've written. I've been wanting to, but I seem to put it off until late at night and then I'm too tired. I need to write, though, I have much to say.

I've been working on all sorts of things, trying to change my days and ways to make my body and mind work better. It's been good to try different things. I don't know how much is really going to help, but I'm just glad to be trying something different. Don't forget, Franklin said insanity is wanting things to change, but doing the same thing. Well, I may be crazy, but at least I'm not insane...anymore. :)

So, now, onto the title subject: love. It's been on my mind for many reasons and in many ways. Of course, the old standard is love between a man and a woman, and, since I'm a woman, I'm looking for that man to love.... I've been obsessed with it--hence my failed marriage and string of unhealthy relationships. I've been incredibly depressed about it. I've wished for it, hoped for it, and am at a point in my life where I'm looking forward to it, but not not crying or trying because I don't have it.

Now, to say I don't have my eye on someone would be a lie, of course there's a guy I think's really cute and nice, but I'm not obsessing, not stalking, not crying, I'm just here. And he's just there. And that's OK. Yes, I'm getting older, yes I'm alone, but it's not the end of the world, it's not something I'm ashamed of, no I'm not skipping through the fields tossing daisies excited I'm alone, or pretending to be and sobbing behind closed doors, but I'm at a place right now where I'm OK with it. I know that God has a plan, and maybe there's a husband in it, and maybe there's not, but in the meantime I can think somebody's cute and move on.

The love that's really on my mind is the love I have for and from my friends. I have some very special people in my life, and they bless me in so many ways. My heart is warm right now because of something nice my best friend Pablo wrote to me earlier. He said something to me last week that really took my breath away, too. I'm blessed, indeed, with his being in my life. Do we sometimes want to throttle each other? Of course. But we have a covenant relationship.

A covenant relationship is basically the relationship we have with another person that is so strong and binding that virtually nothing will destroy it. It is that relationship that is stated in traditional wedding vows--you know, those words that are said in weddings that people are actually supposed to believe and follow with regards to the other person standing at the altar?
For better or worse,
For richer or poorer,
In sickness and in health,
To love and to cherish,
As long as we both shall live.

I know when I said it I didn't really mean it about my ex-husband. I meant that I wanted to if he ended up being the person I wanted him to turn into. I would love to be able to say that I meant it about the person that actually stood before me at that time, but I can honestly say that I didn't. And, I didn't take the time to even examine the relationship or the reality of the situation to see that I didn't mean those words. For me, I meant that I would be that wife if he would be the husband I wanted him to be. I knew deep down he couldn't be that man because he wasn't that man. I also knew deep down that I should not marry him. I also knew deep down that I was only marrying him because I wanted to be married, and I was afraid that I wouldn't find anyone else that wanted to marry me.

Ouch.

I've thought about the whole situation in depth, and I know that I made the wrong decision in marrying him, I can even pinpoint the exact date and time I knew that I was making a mistake. But I was hellbent on being married because I was afraid that if I didn't do it right then and there, in some big freaking hurry, that I might never get married--I might be alone forever. And that has always been my biggest fear, being alone forever. I forgot to factor in reality to all of that:
  • All you need is love--you better make sure that it's REAL love, not infatuation or desperation.
  • REAL love worth that kind of commitment tries everything to grow and be better.
  • It's better to be alone than to be married to someone you're not supposed to be.
  • God really does know what He's doing. Trying to do His job for Him only brings pain.

Will I ever get married again? I have no idea, but if I don't, then so be it. I have myriad people in my life that will ensure that I will never be alone.

Pablo has told me that: he will make sure that I am never alone. I have my mom, my brother and sister-in-law, my extended family, many other friends. Truly, it's that kind of love, that warm-hearted love, that makes every day special. Do I hope that God sends me a husband? Yes, without a doubt. Will I try to force His hand? Not on your life, been there, done that--not gonna' do it, wouldn't be prudent. Will I survive either way? You betcha.

God has blessed me with more love than some people ever have, and more than I could ever deserve, and I'm definitely thankful and humbled by it. I of course know that it's His love that really makes my life complete.

:) Jan