Every year, am I incredible thankful and happy, for this gorgeous cherry tree. First I can enjoy the amazing flowers, then, the dark blood colored leaves, and top of that, juicy cherries.
What an amazing tree, and the beauty stands proudly in my garden. Many of the branches are hanging over the fence. People that passes stops and asks if they can taste. Of course, even the birds are welcome. There are plenty for all of us, every year.
One morning I realized while sitting drinking my morning coffee, that if my daughter or son, would be harmed in any possible way, I would fight for them.
I would be laud and direct, fighting for them to be heard and believed. — as I already have done in some ways— I would fight for their voice to be heard and justice to be made. Write about it. A matter of course!
But why in the name of …..did I not make myself heard? Or even fight for myself, in a more determined way?
I was shocked when I realized that I was quiet, hiding scared in a dark hole. Refusing to come up and fight, to be laud, set boundaries and say, “Enough is Enough!”
For two decades now had I fought for the Animal Rights. I was well known for rescuing many animals. And maybe also for my three published books. I could get the cruelest person to hand over their abused animal to me. In that case was I strong, and determined.
But how come I didn’t stand up for the person that needed the help most? I asked myself again!
Maybe it’s Because there are groups of different kind of help. You can be “lucky” to come to the right person right away, or, your road starts taking a scary turn, with the wrong people behind their desks.
We trust them. Listens to their promises. We trust their occupation, of course they must know what they are talking about. Right!
There are good people helping, but they are overloaded with work.
It doesn’t get easier because you finally dare to leave. Then the revenge starts.
Silence can make the wrong people continuing with their harmfulness. I started writing about this theme 1996, still not bigger of a change. More Women Shelter are being built. Good and sad.
It’s time to stand up, reunite with the past, starting today.
💚 Happy women’s Day! There are so many women that inspires me, I cannot fit you in here. Some I know personally, and some I read about. You empower, you support you are fearless, you fight also for other women— which at certain times need to borrow your cape. I love you ❤️ Finally, I dare to take responsibility for my own life!! Thank you for helping me make my own cape! Every Day is Women’s Day 🥕
One thing I learned through the long journey as a victim, was to find strong survivors for support and advice.
These incredible women (and one man ) understands first and foremost, all the different emotions which (many times ) are making it difficult for the mind to move forward.
They are also helping with my recovery and growth, to become whole again. They understand the time it takes. Small steps and big cheers!
What I love with these strong women I am surrounded by, there are never any talk about revenge. Only to get knowledge and love (support) and possibilities for myself. And of course laughters, between the tears.
Psychological abuse leaves no bruises. There are no broken bones. There are no holes in the walls. The bruises, brokenness, and holes are held tightly within the target of the abuse.
Emotional and financial harm are the common ways to destroy the target.
Every week I hear the same kind of stories from different women. My Mother, one Doctor, Psychologists, Stay Home Moms, one Army Captain, Nurse…. I can go on and on. One thing these women have in common:
They are beautiful smart women, but became targets by harmful men. Not, of course, in the beginning, that would have been to easy.
Groomers, with love bombing and learning how to mimic the women’s dreams. Playfully, like a cat is playing with the mouse. It’s a game.
“Because it’s fun” one man told me. Another man shrugged his shoulders, he just did it! Why? He couldn’t answer.
The silence will keep more and more women in the shame trap, if we don’t speak louder about it, openly.