I admire you for your honesty and attitude on this subject. It's so true how the victims/survivors have been treated as the one's who have done the wrong and blamed unjustly.
Very few have had compassion towards the woman.
I was 19 , when it was over given the gun that was held on me. The police wanted to charge me for having it. They treated me like dirt and I left before the rape kit came. I went back to work and didn't talk about for decades except to my best friend.
Thanks for understanding...
"[...] over-protected children are more likely to struggle in relationships and
with challenges." This is what happened to me. My mom died when I was 8 and my dad was WAY over-protective and strict. I never experienced being independent. I know my dad loved me, but he never allowed me to fly. Perhaps that is why I love writing!
I'm glad I decided to read this! Thanks for sharing.
Very clever 😁! What really is a horse of another color anyway?! I enjoyed this post, it's unique and not the usual thing. Nice to see another take on expressing one's self.
Write ✍️ on indeed!
I sometimes have strange but profound dreams. Here is one of them that came a few weeks ago:
In this dream I am trying to get back home and I have found the street that looks familiar and takes me to my grandmother's house, where I know to turn down the side street which will lead me to my parent's home. I am confident I am on the right street. But suddenly the view outside the car changes. Instead of the trees and homes I remember there appear commercial buildings all over. I do not recognize this place. My grandmother's house is not seen where it should be. I am full of anxiety, for I do not now know where to turn. I decide to stop my car and go into one of the shops that have appeared so I can ask directions. I carefully write down on a little piece of paper my address that I remember clearly to show them. I pick a shop through whose windows I see many women sewing on machines, they are obviously intently working,like in a tailor shop. I enter, but suddenly all their faces freeze in fear. Intuitively I know they are afraid of me. They are suspicious that I have come to harm them. They see me as foreign, even alien. I try quietly to tell them I just want directions home. I hold up my address written on the small piece of paper. They do not speak, they gaze at me still with suspicion. Suddenly, I hear a scurrying, as if two of them are going to get someone else. Then they come back with a man dressed all in white. He has on a round hat in white like the Sufi Masters wear sometimes. Instantly I know that he is not afraid of me. He is smiling, his face radiant, glowing. I feel no fear in him, only love and compassion. I hold up my paper with the address I remember for home. He does not look at that. He looks into my eyes and he says: "You will be alright because you have peace in your pocket." I am startled and think "what a thing to say?" Then sudenly I look down and am surprised to see that the dress I am wearing has a pocket on the side of my right hand. On the pocket has been beautifully sewn in white thread the written word "Peace". I am speechless. I never knew it was there. He smiles as I look up at his face again. Suddenly, all the others melt away, as if they never existed. I see only his face of Light. There are no more words between us. I wake up suddenly from what was a deep sleep. And I feel immediately that something profound has visited my soul. Such dreams as this are in a different kind of light from ordinary dreams. You will know the difference when they happen to you.
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