Trigger Warning: The following blog post talks about sexual, physical and emotional abuse.

Hello to All My Fellow Warriors, 

We are now into our second month of 2023 with the cold weather letting us know we are alive!!  I celebrated 90 days sober on February 7th, so I thought this week I would share some of my story with all the Angels out there. It is not tragic as I used to view it; my past actually saved my life. 

I was born to a young mother of only 13 years old who left me in the hospital. With no one from my birth family claiming me at 11 days old, I was adopted by the family I grew up with and knew as the only family I ever had. My adoptive mother, who is still to this day the only mother I know and so the only mother I call mom, worked hard and gave me and my siblings everything we could dream of.  We were a small family, middle class, with a loving home. 

The first real memory I have is when I was around 6 years old; my older brother had to take me after school to an office where a nice lady would sit with me asking me questions about good touches and bad touches. I would play with dolls showing her different scenarios in which I recalled “bad touches”.  I know now this was a psychiatrist’s office. To this day my mother will not talk about what happened to me or why I had to see this doctor.  I clearly remember the waiting room: painted green, smelled of cigarette smoke, and had uncomfortable chairs with tons of cheap kids’ toys that I would play with while waiting to be seen. I know logically that I was molested by someone at a young age due to illogical behaviours that I exhibited and of course, the psychiatrist visits, but I have no idea by who, when, or how. Some answers would be nice, but I also know that I will never get any. 

At age 9 my mom met my soon-to-be stepfather who would become physically and mentally abusive to only me but give love to my siblings. At around age 10 his father, my step-grandfather decided that I at that tender young age was a viable sexual companion, and began to sexually molest me when he was babysitting me. I don’t remember the details anymore, thank you E.C.T, but I do recall vividly the smell of built-up newspapers in his house, the smell of booze on his breath, and the smell of the fresh air when I would burst from his house afterwards into his backyard, tears streaming down my face. This went on for years. When I was 14 I finally decided I couldn’t take anymore so I chose possibly the worst time to call my mother; she was at work when she picked up the phone, I was in her bedroom, and I was crying both when I told her that I was being “hurt down there by Grandpa” and when she emphatically told me that she “would not discuss this” and hung up on me. To this day, almost 30 years later, we still have not discussed the molestation that took place at the hands of this very sick man. 2 years later he passed away from a heart attack. I would not attend the funeral. 

This has affected my life to this day in ways that even I am still unfolding with the help of a trauma counsellor.  I am still in my rehabilitation program; I have been given more freedom with being given the great gift of allowing me to transfer to the Extended Care program which entails 20 hours of service along with 20 hours of programming in a week. I have endured much more trauma since this young time in my life, however, I felt this part of my life was the turning point in my internal being which led me to feeling darkness inside that stifled me from being the true me.  Innocence stolen from me at such a young age deterred me from being who I truly was inside due to low self-esteem; poor decision choices; and improper views on the world of sexual companionship. 

Any young person who has had to suffer through this type of abuse is a WARRIOR! We have endured in spirit, mind, and body to even get up in the morning and face the world. I am proud of you for waking up today because I know how hard it is to do.  The light is somewhere we know, but finding it again is tough; however, I have faith that all of my Angels out there can and will find a light at the end of the darkness. It is there. It is waiting for you. Keep searching for it. I promise you can find it. 

There is much, much more to my story, but I think this is enough for today as it is triggering; I, myself had a hard time making it through telling it, but every time I do tell it I feel more empowered and I know that if I can empathize with anyone in sharing this then I am connecting with other WARRIORS who have battled the same demons that I faced at such an early age in life. I am privileged to be able to connect with all of you on this level. 

I truly hope that anyone out there that may still be going through this type of situation can find a voice, a willing ear to listen, and a helping hand to help find the light again.  If you or anyone you know needs immediate help please contact a local distress line for contacts to help you or head to the nearest hospital.  Never be ashamed to reach out for help. We are important. We are loveable. We do deserve to be safe. We do deserve to be believed.  We are worthy of finding the light. 


Until Next Time, 

Always Got Your Back, 

Angel Warrior 1Thousand