Why I Write

My writing career began when I was in second grade. I loved fairy tales and wrote an entire book of my own tales. A sibling, finding my book, taunted: You think you can write? My hurt little soul ran blindly, opened the basement furnace door and threw in my heart along with my little book. My burned manuscript created decades of writer’s block.

I never lost the enthusiasm for putting pen to paper, but I no longer knew how. I love reading. It opens up an entire world of envisioning, learning, and understanding. Writing, to me, has become what I call “spirit” writing. At an appointed hour I ask for assistance from my spirit guides. I wait until the pen almost leaps out of my hand to the paper. (No, I cannot write via computer.) It’s almost as if there is an inner voice channeling feelings and words to me that I commit to paper. I write until the pen becomes stilled.

Challenges come when I listen to the voice in my head that scoffs at the idea that anything I write could be of interest or assistance to anyone. My greatest block is being able to convey what my inner TV screen creates into the written word. Part of what I envision at times seems to get lost in the transition, and I am never quite satisfied. In order to “spirit” write, the voice in my head has to be silenced. Writing then comes from my heart.

My first book was about our unique family, how to organize and raise children. I have also written cook books. But my favorite is my latest: The Illness That Healed Me – An Account of Surviving Sexual Abuse and the Journey into Healing. It took twenty years to write. I felt compelled within to commit it to words. I am passionate about assisting abused to heal and to educate perpetrators about how their actions can ruin the lives of others. I feel deeply that forgiveness is necessary in order to move forward.

I have a daughter and a son who are both gifted writers. When I read what they have written, I am truly entrenched in their words. The stories, the characters, their interpretations all are amazing to me. My daughter’s personalities are so real they absorb all my attention, and I forget they are fiction. I never want it to end. When it does, I ask for more.

I grew up on L. M. Montgomery, and was so engrossed in Anne of Green Gables and Emily of New Moon I actually lost my own identity in them. As an adult, my interests are in energetic healing. Chunyi Lin has probably impacted me the most along with Dr. Caroline Myss and Dr. Norma Shealy. Each of their works educates me to a higher level. I also love reading Gregg Braden, Alberto Villoldo, Bruce Lipton, Christie Marie Sheldon, Sonia Choquette, Joe Vitale, Brent Phillips and others  

I am very passionate about healing and motivated to serve others. Through unique experiences of my own, I am able to offer ways and means of making lives easier and better. When I hear from someone that something in my book has assisted them to change their lives or that they will never be the same after reading my words, I feel humbly grateful. I would heal everyone if I could.

Being an author has some drawbacks for me. There’s a lot of busy work, a lot of waiting, ups and downs, and depending upon others. I would prefer a steady, level road and not a roller coaster ride. I prefer to be in the background but also desire to dedicate my life to assisting others to heal from their wounds and traumas. This is why I write. I know there is a higher way of living that has been given to me as a gift, and I feel a need to share.

I believe some write because they love to write, because it is cathartic, and because it gives expression to an inner talent. Many have an innate understanding of the written word that sometimes escapes me. I write only if there is an inner nudging and the “spirit” writing endorses that. However, I feel that most writers are probably in the former category. I believe we write because it’s just something we feel almost compelled to do. I envisioned writing a book at age 18 and tried several times without success. I believe those “without success” times were necessary to lead me to successes.

My advice to those just beginning a writing career: remain close and true to your heart. Let writing be your passion. Enjoy the process. Be motivated and uplifted while writing. Assume your success throughout the entire process. See the end from the beginning. Don’t let little imps come onto the stage of the mind and bring discouragement. If you are interested in writing, there probably is a reason that is based in talent. Let go of any attachment to the outcome and write for the pure pleasure of writing.

Getting my first book, Families Are Forever If I Can Just Get through Today, published when I was an “unknown” was a huge victory over the past. When I dropped off my manuscript to the publisher, my oldest son commented that my name wasn’t ……. (a famous writer) and what made me think someone would publish anything I had written. I wondered that for the six weeks I waited until I received the acceptance letter. Euphoria set in. I was a child again running, jumping and screaming through the empty house. This was truly a dream fulfilled because my book contained personal stories, and the editor had told me they never published anything personal unless the author was already well-known to the public. My book sold over 40,000 copies in a more local arena and was on the market for nearly 20 years. I was ecstatic! 

Stop Sexual Abuse! Prevent Sexual Abuse!

Today my heart was wrenched once again for those who have suffered deeply because of sexual abuse. A lady approached me while I was at the pool. We have chatted briefly before. She told me about the three Anderson girls who had been sexually abused by their father before it became public knowledge. She knew them personally.

Today was another story. Her sister lost her husband and was left with four smaller children. A man, who apparently had read the obituary, contacted her later. They became friends and eventually were married. He had lost his wife and was left with three children. She thought he was being so considerate when he encouraged her to go on a vacation with her sisters. He would tend all of the children and give the mothers a break. They thought he was a very thoughtful husband and father. It would be some time later that they discovered the subterfuge. He was in fact a pedophile. None of the family knew that at the time, however.

Years passed, and his dark deeds became known. The children were in counseling, but one nephew was having a very difficult time still. His life was difficult. And for a very good reason. His very life had been stolen from him. Who he could have become had been murdered. When he could no longer endure the inner pain, anxiety, fears, feelings of being unsafe, unworthy, flawed, shamed, and unlovable that constantly haunted him, he took his life to end it all.

Tears came to my eyes. I knew so well what he had felt. My heart throbbed with the pain of it all. He had been so innocent and pure, and then it was all shattered in a moment when someone else thought his pleasures were tantamount to anything else. This young boy lost all control of his life and what his life might have become. His innocence was taken and his soul murdered. I also knew days when I wanted to be disintegrated so my chattering mind could no longer have access to me and cause me such grief and turmoil.

It's so difficult to talk about such things. And looking back, it's a more adult mindset that's trying to deal with what happened when we were younger and didn't have the reasoning ability of an adult - even an immature teenage adult. I wrote in an email this week to my daughter after having been there for her daughter's 14th birthday and then a month later for her 12-year-old's birthday:

"I looked at her standing there afterward, and realizing she was 14 – the age I was when the seminary teacher crossed over the line and started abusing me. As I looked at her, I realized for the first time, that I was not an adult as I always feel and picture myself and have been so critical of myself. Perhaps a lot of that is due to the fact that the bishop made me get up in fast and testimony meeting and ask for forgiveness. That was such a scary thing to do, and then later on to know that the seminary teacher went from being seminary principal to being principal of B. High School. And what was my claim to fame? I thought I had lost my exaltation, and I just wanted to become extinct so there would be no part of me left. Unhealthy beliefs create stress in our bodies, shift our cells into self-protection mode, and kick our autonomic nervous system into fight or flight mode and make us sick. These destructive beliefs I had, distorted my life, and caused me to live in self-destructive ways while continuing to create stress in my body that eventually led to illness and disease. I now know and understand that if we do something we believe is wrong on a conscious level (like me with the seminary teacher  – I was old enough to know it was wrong so it was my own fault), but it’s because we have an unconscious belief that overrides our values. I felt like I was flawed, unlovable, worthless, bad, not good enough, unforgivable, and would never, never, never be forgiven. But the need for love – even counterfeit as it was – was so great that it overrode the values that I had been taught and knew.

"Then there was the second birthday. That was even more shocking/enlightening to me. I looked at her so pure and innocent and loving, and then realized she was 12 years old. That was the same age I was when the lifeguard started raping me. Not until that very moment had I ever realized how truly young I was. I was in no way an adult, but that’s the way I always felt about myself – like I should have been able to make adult like decisions. Even when I went to the 21 year old girl also working at the resort to tell her what was happening to me, she didn’t believe me and told the lifeguard what I had said. How did I ever even have the courage to tell her? And, of course, the lifeguard came back to me and threatened me if I ever told anyone again – all the while he kept abusing me. And I didn’t tell until I told the seminary teacher two years later. I came home from your daughter's birthday and cried - cried for that little girl (me) who was so afraid, who didn’t understand what (or why) was happening to her, and had no idea of how to stop it. With my adult perspective now, I know if I had gone to my boss and told him what was happening, he would have fired the lifeguard, and he would have protected me. He always treated me special, and I lapped up that kind of attention like a love-starved puppy.

"With your two daughters’ birthdays fresh on my mind, I have a visual like I’ve never had before. I think I knew in my head that I wasn’t an adult, but the picture inside was that I was and had the ability to make adult-like decisions. I now realize I wasn't an adult, and I didn’t have the maturity or the perception of how to deal with such adult-like things happening in my life. And then to feel for most of my life that because these things happened to me, that I was unworthy before God and that because they did happen to me, that he truly didn't love me, and I truly was not lovable. It has always been difficult for me to really take love in because I always have walls up to protect me from perceived/unperceived attacks so I don’t get hurt further. What a learning experience this has been. In order to survive, I created a false image, a false persona  that would be acceptable to the public. But it truly was not who I was. Thank goodness for the impact training where the head trainer literally cracked open that false persona. I didn’t understand it at the time and felt like he just hated me. But in hindsight, I see that he really gave me back my true self. Then my new boss at the synagogue was there to help rebuild me and help me heal. It was the first experience I had ever had with unconditional love. When he died, I felt like I couldn’t go on living because there was no one who would treat me that way again. But I have come to know and feel his presence even though I can't actually see him. I know and recognize his energy. That has been a saving grace for me."

But what about the above young man? He obviously didn't feel the love that I felt. I know I felt so miserable for so many years. Thoughts of suicide had come to me several times, but my spirit couldn't accept that. And when I prayed, I received the confirmation that I could heal myself. So now I have the knowledge and the wisdom that has brought salvation to my soul, and I am denouncing those who sexually abuse others. I am passionate about your getting help to set you free from damaging the lives of others and bringing lower vibrational frequencies into your life that will not serve you.

I stand for truth and love. I stand for putting an end to sexual abuse and all that it perpetrates. I feel to shout from the rooftops: Stop sexual abuse! Set the captives free! If any of you out there feel as I do, join with me in making a difference. And to the survivors of abuse, please know that there is someone here who does care, who understands, who has walked your road, and I am there for you. You can be freed from your terror, anxiety, fears, and turmoil. There is hope. I have been where you are, and I now have taken the journey into the heart and soul where peace is possible. Come and join with me. I send you all love and light. Please know that love is the greatest power there is. I'm not talking about a mere emotion. I am talking about an energetic field that has the ability to raise us all. Some scientists are even calling the field the mind of God. But you don't have to believe or accept God. The field is still there, and it can en"lighten" you and bring you peace.

 I can be reached at: puggie37@yahoo.com

http://www.freepublicitygroup.com/release_janice_weinheimer.html

Brandon Davies, BYU Basketball and the Honor Code

George Bernard Shaw stated that to punish is to damage, and you don't mend a person by damaging him. To me this has always meant that to correct someone, you discipline with love. The greatest examples we have of that come from Jesus. When he was presented with the woman taken in adultery, he drew figures in the sand. Weren't these figures the Aramaic or Hebrew words for acts that had been done by those very men in attendance? And then came the words based on love. Let him who is without sin cast the first stone at her. One by one, the men feeling pricked in their hearts, turned and left. Then Jesus asked the woman where her accusers were. She said they all left. Then, with love that she felt, he told her he didn't condemn her and to go and never again forget the love that she was. Those weren't his exact words, but I get that was the meaning. She had simply strayed off the path of her heart.

Then there was the woman that he visited with at the well in Samaria. After he told her all things that she had done even to being with a man that she wasn't married to, did she feel condemned? No, she ran to town and quickly spread the word that she had visited with the Messiah. She wanted to share the great experience she had just had.

On both these occasions, the women were lifted to a higher way of being. They were brought in contact with who they really were on a spirit level and that level was love. Didn't Jesus set the example of not damaging a person with punishment but rather lifting them and motivating them to live in a higher way?

While taking some impact training, we were taught that the physical body and spirit vibrate at different frequencies. To solve issues, we were to remain at the higher spiritual level of vibration and raise the body to that level. We were not to take the spirit down to the body's vibrational frequency. In other words, we were to get out of our heads and make decisions from our hearts.

Wasn't it Einstein who said that problems should not be solved at the same level at which they were created? I recall so well taking classes from Steve Covey where he taught us about synergy. In relationships when there is a problem, he taught that to be synergistic, both parties needed to go to a higher level. At that level, the problems could easily be worked out to the satisfaction and betterment of both.

When I heard the news about Brandon Davies and BYU's honor code and his suspension, I felt sick at heart and like I'd been kicked in the gut. I couldn't shake these feelings. Later, I turned on the BYU-New Mexico basketball game. It was well into the first half. When I saw the score, I turned it off. I didn't have the heart to watch. There was no heart on BYU's part. I felt sicker inside. Later on, I walked into the room where the TV was on while Jimmer was being interviewed. I only caught a portion but enough to hear him say how much this hurt because Davies was like a brother. I knew how much I was suffering inside, and I couldn't even begin to imagine the sufferings of the entire basketball team. How could they play or win? The heart had gone right out of them. Their light had been turned off so to speak.

I recalled an experience with a roommate and the honor code when I was a sophomore at BYU. We lived in Heritage Halls. One of our roommates had transferred mid-year from an out-of-state college. One of her classes required a research paper. She was a very intelligent and truly beautiful girl. Instead of doing the work herself on the research paper, she wrote to a friend in her home state and had her friend send one to her that the friend had done. After she turned in the paper, two of our roommates called the other three of us in to talk about her violation of the honor code. I sat there and said nothing. I was too afraid to speak up and say what I really felt. The girls decided that the original two who brought it up would go to the honor council and turn her in. The girl was called in and action taken. She wasn't dismissed from school, but she quickly moved out of our apartment. I stuffed my feelings and regretted losing her friendship because I had truly loved her.

I recalled this experience as I mulled over the situation with Brandon Davies. I realized that I was reliving this earlier experience and the feelings I never allowed myself to feel. I wasn't just sick at heart over Davies, but I was also sick at heart because I didn't speak my truth over half a century ago and had carried that guilt inside ever since. I felt like what we did echoed of Nazi-ism or Communism where family and friends spied on one another and turned each other in. If I had it to do over again, I would own my power and voice my opinion that before we did anything, we should tell her what we were feeling and contemplating and give her opportunity to speak first. In other words, we should do as Steve Covey now suggests to seek first to understand and then to be understood. We could have met together synergistically and through the power of love created lasting friendships instead of destroying that friendship. We should have intervened when she first mentioned the idea of using another girl's paper. With arms of love surrounding her, we could have offered to go to the library with her, to help her with suggestions, so that she would have felt encouraged to do the work herself instead of remaining silent and then judging her after the fact.

When harsh measures are used, that is the ripple effect sent out into the world. When loving methods are followed, we are sending the ripple effect of love out into the world. It seems to me, there could have been a much more loving way of handling the current situation. First of all to me the honor code is too black and white. Wouldn't it be much better if there were clauses written in for actions taken with a first offense, second offense, and then maybe three strikes but never you're out. Is the law the most important thing or is the person  more important?

At the very least, the kind and more compassionate way would have been to have waited a couple more weeks to take action. Then the whole team, the fans, friends and family would not all have been punished as well. It just cut a deep crater into the hearts and lives of this entire community.

A few years ago, I was over discipline at a Hebrew Religious School. One day, some girls came into my office before school started and told me the gum ball machine was missing. We used this machine as a fundraiser for the youth department. I went into the youth lounge and surely enough, the gum ball machine was no where in sight. I looked around and could not find it. It was time to ring the bell for school to start. Later, after services, I called three boys into my office who had arrived early at school that day. I asked them if they had something to tell me. They all sat there silent. I asked again if they didn't have something to tell me. Finally, one of the boys said, "Janice, I didn't do it." I asked if he was telling the truth, and he said yes. I released him to go to class. I turned and looked at the two remaining boys and asked if they had something to tell me. One of them said he hadn't done it either. I asked if he was telling me the truth. He was. I sent him to class. I turned to the third boy and looked at him with love from my heart. He admitted he had taken the gum ball machine. (Notice, I never mentioned the gum ball machine.) I asked him where it was. He had hidden it behind the couch. I explained to him this wasn't a cheap machine and that he could have damaged or broken it. I asked what he thought his discipline should be. He stared at the floor for a couple of minutes. Then he raised his head and looked me squarely in the eyes and said: "I will never do it again." My heart was full of love for this young man as I asked him: "You mean you are making a commitment to me that you will never do anything like this again, and that I can trust you?" He said yes and never moved his eyes from mine. I said okay and told him he could go to class and thanked him for telling me the truth.

I made a friend that day. That young man went out of his way to always say hi to me. After he graduated, whenever I saw him at functions, he would always give me a hug. Love is the greatest power in the universe, and I think at times we forget how powerful it is. We try to use other methods to control, and they just don't bring about the desired results. I learned from this experience, but I learned because I had been taught higher ways by learned men such as George Bernard Shaw, Stephen R. Covey, and Jesus. Seek first to understand and then to be understood. Be synergistic in solving problems. Let the spirit and heart guide you to solve problems at a higher level than they were created. Don't condemn while teaching. And of course, the ultimate to follow while correcting someone is the example of Jesus so that they feel lifted and motivated to a higher level of living and being.

I would suggest and hope that BYU and the Mormon Church would take steps to alter their honor code so that it functions at a higher level. It shouldn't be a lower law that condemns and drags one down, but rather it should be a higher law that leaves people feeling loved, lifted, and enlightened. Truly, a person is much more valuable than any law or rule and the rules shouldn't damage anyone.

And I believe that all this especially applies to those who have been the victims of abuse. They deserve to be treated with kindness, compassion, and charity. They deserve to be lifted and filled with light and love. Their hearts have been severely damaged and bruised, and those hearts deserve to be reverberated with the ripple effect of love. What happens to one of us, happens to all of us to some degree. We all feel it and are affected by it because we are all interconnected.

Growing up in the Mormon Church, I heard over and over again the solution to situations: "What would Jesus do?" I would ask what would Jesus do in this situation? Would he have used the stone of harsh judgment, public shame and humiliation, and dismissal thrown right at Davies' heart? Or would he have embraced Davies with love and reminded him of who he really is and that is love - the greatest power in the universe. Here is a young man whose hormones overpowered him. But where is his heart? He has admitted to being remorseful and heartbroken - feelings that come straight from the heart. Should those true feelings be crushed with physical stones of the law? Or is there a place for mercy as the great examples of Jesus taught?

Sexual Abuse and the Mormon Church

While in a group therapy for sexual abuse, our leader suggested when we went to church on Sunday (this was a Mormon group with a Mormon hierarchy leader), we not put on our "happy Sunday go to meeting faces" but rather when people asked us how we were to "throw up all over them". This meant that we revealed our sexual abuse. I soon discovered that people weren't really interested. When they asked how we were, they wanted the traditional "fine" or "great" answer. They didn't want to know any of our history. And if you tried to tell more than fine, they made excuses to leave.

I had learned to stuff my feelings early on in life and not to admit to any of my abuse history. It just didn't bring good results. For instance, when I told a 21-year-old about the lifeguard raping me (when I was 12 and working at a resort), she told me if anything was happening, it was my own fault. I quickly learned it wasn't safe to tell anyone. She, however, told the lifeguard what I had said, and he later confronted me and threatened me all the while continuing to abuse me.

When I was an adult and had nine children (several already married), I was teaching a women's group in our church. As I prepared for my lesson one week, I kept getting an inner nudge about revealing my sexual abuse to the women. I kept shrugging it off knowing it wasn't safe to bring up such a subject. As Sunday morning arrived, the feeling persisted and kept getting stronger. I finally said to the inner voice "if I feel this deep impression at the end of my lesson, I will". I was somewhat nervous after having committed to breaking the barriers I had perceived in the past from such revelations.

I was more nervous than usual as I stood to give my lesson that morning. The lesson went well, and as I was closing, that inner voice reminded me of my pledge. I stopped speaking momentarily while having an argument with that inner voice. I hesitated slightly, and then in about three simple sentences revealed my abuse which included a family member as a child, the lifeguard when I was 12, and my seminary teacher/principal as a teenager.

The room was instantly deafeningly quiet. I closed my lesson and sat down. I felt the heavy penetration of that silence. A closing prayer was said. I sat still for a moment, but no one approached me. No one said anything. The president of the women's organization and her counselors avoided me. I gathered my materials and left the room. I felt like I was wearing an "A" on my chest and everyone cowered at the sight of me. It took all my stamina and courage to walk down the hallway, admist avoided glances and whispers, and out to my car. I was so glad to drive away from the church parking lot.

I had been president of the women's organization in our church and had served in the next level of administration over a very large group of women. I knew the protocol for compassionate service to the women of the church. It had not been followed.

At home, I called my friend who knew my history and hadn't been at the meeting. She had also served as president of the women's organization. I told her what I had done that morning and asked what her response would have been if she had been president. She replied: I would have been at your house within 10 minutes following the meeting to put my arms around you, to love you, and to see what I could do to help you." I would have done the same. I had rung the neighborhood "call for help" bell so to speak, and no one had responded. I felt so unloved, so unworthy, and total rejection which was the way I'd felt most of my life.

But the worst rejection came later when I was called in by the bishop (who was the leader over our ward) and was released from my calling. I was put out to pasture. I had served in executive positions in the church for many years. I had taught the adult gospel class for men and women for 8 years. I had taught the older teens for more than 25 years. I had given my all in service to my church, and I was being deposed. It broke my heart.

After my first book was published, I traveled extensively for my church speaking at all kinds of groups from teen conferences, women conferences, adult trainings, couple's trainings,state and national conventions, to Sun City retirees. I did it all for free. Many weeks, I would speak out 4-5 times at different groups. I traveled all over the western US and Canada to speak. I was keynote speaker at most of these workshop/conferences. I had given my all to my church, and this was my reward.

I was devastated. It was the greatest rejection of my life. I didn't want to go out of my house. I didn't want to see people. I felt like I was the gossip of the neighborhood. Four months later, I approached my visiting teacher who was a religion editor for a local newspaper and also served in the presidency of our women's group. I asked why she had never mentioned my abuse. Disgustedly she replied: "I can't deal with people making things like that public". Another total rejection.

What is it that makes people think the victim is the perpetrator? I had seen instances in our church where the perpetrator was protected while a victim was not given any support. It had been difficult for me to truly believe this, but here I was experiencing it first-hand. People had no idea of the devastation to my life and existence because of my abuse, but here they were adding more affliction and abuse to my already tormented existence. How could I go on? It was a blessing in disguise when I later received a promotion at the Jewish synagogue where I worked, and I was unable to attend my Sunday meetings. But what happened then? That's when the hierarchy became concerned and called me in. They didn't care about the abuse or my years of torment and suffering, but they did care when their percentage of attendance went down when I quit going to their meetings.

I wrote this after reading Religion Dispatches article by Joanna Brooks and the story of Melanie S. who finally spoke out against the Mormon Church's prop 8 in CA. A quote from that article: “The real story for me,” she explained, “is what does a good Mormon do when you’ve prayed and you’ve gotten answers as real and strong as the answers other people have gotten, but they lead you in a different direction? It’s easy for people to say, ‘You can’t think that; you follow the prophet.’ But do you have to choose between the church you love and the inspiration you feel you are getting from an honest place?”

Melanie's story gave me the courage to speak my own truth.

Rosary Murders and More

Watching Rosary Murders this week brought the terrible reality into focus of the horrendous impact of sexual abuse on a teenager. In the movie, a 16-year-old girl confides in a nun about incest and her father raping her. The nun did not believe her and called her a liar. She told the teen that her father would never do such a despicable thing, and that she should be ashamed for accusing him. The girl committed suicide the next week by hanging herself. The nun took on a vow of silence after the fact.

A helpless girl reached out to someone she felt she could trust, but it just didn't work out for her. So she took the only available action she thought she had. Young girls do not have the social skills to protect themselves. They don't know where they can go and to whom they can turn. I know because I went through these things myself. After being repeatedly assaulted by an 18-year-old lifeguard when I was 12, I went to an older girl who was working at the resort and confided in her. She told me if anything was happening to me it was my own fault. I had to agree with her. I thought I must have done something wrong. But what does a 12-year-old know?

After two years I confided in my seminary teacher about the abuse. I was inundated with guilt from "being immoral" or so I thought. I thought God hated me and wouldn't have anything to do with me. That was my religious training. Well, after four months, the seminary teacher crossed the line and also abused me for the next two years. I, like the girl in the movie, didn't know what to do. My religious background and training made me feel like I was evil, but at the same time, he was my religious superior.

I swim daily for exercise at our local rec center. Twice this week, I was approached by a woman at the pool. They each had their own story of sexual abuse to share with me. One told the story of her niece. When the girl told her mother that her stepfather was abusing her, the mother (like the nun above), didn't believe her. To whom could the girl go then if her own mother wouldn't believe her? I advised the aunt, told her about my website, a bit of my own history, and gave her my email address so the niece could contact me. But it hasn't happened. It's so difficult to reach out when you have been abused. Even when I was in my 50's and seeking group therapy and counseling, I sat at the desk for hours before I could make the phone call and then had diarrhea all day before the first session. It's debilitating physically, mentally, and emotionally to reach out. It's almost impossible to put forth the courage to make the contact.

The second lady at the pool confided to me about a more local family who were entertainers. The father was in the hierarchy in his church as well as a professional businessman in the community. There were five daughters who eventually went public with the incest in their family. All five girls had been abused. Again, it was more important to protect the family name and reputation than to stop the abuse and get treatment. Neither the church nor society reached out to the girls.

I continue to hear such sad stories. My heart aches for the victims because I know how it feels. It's so difficult after the fact to get the healing balm that is needed. I have a granddaughter who is doing preventative work. She has written a book on Street Harassment and travels extensively doing seminars and informing the public about the aftermath of street harassment, which is a verbal form of sexual abuse. She is doing great work, and I expect to see tremendous results from her work. But there are still the one in three females and one in six males who have been sexually abused by the age of 18 and it's usually incest, that need assistance to get their lives back together.

I don't want to see more suicides or other side affects from the aftermath of sexual abuse. I would like to see more legislation in favor of the abused. I would like to see more attorneys such as Kelly Clark in Portland, OR who is fighting legal battles for the abused. My seminary teacher did no jail time. In fact he went from being seminary principal to being principal of a very large local high school. That is devastating. I would like to see more safe places where the abused can go and feel safe. Family and church do not always support the abused. I certainly wasn't, and I know how that feels to carry a lifetime of guilt around with you. These special young folk deserve to know that they have done nothing wrong. They are the victims not the perpetrators. It's the perpetrators that deserve to be labeled. And the secrets should not be kept.

There's So Much Pain. When will it stop?

I just finished watching a movie "Our Fathers" based on the sexual abuse scandal surrounding the Roman Catholic Church and several of their priests and Cardinal Law. The movie was done by Showtime in 2005. It wasn't an easy watch for one who has been abused, but at the same time it drew out my heart to the hundreds of young boys who had their lives wrecked by a person of "trust" in their religion. It was heart-wrenching to see the tragedies in the families as well as the boys. The outcome of the abuse was that several boys committed suicide, some drank themselves to death, some overdosed on drugs, but all were emotional wrecks. They just couldn't live a normal life.

The media made it sound like they were out for money. It had nothing to do with the money they eventually received. One victim said he deposited the check in the bank, but it was "bad money". He had no intention of using it. It was never about the money. It was about seeing some justice done in their behalf. It was about seeing the perpetrators suffer the consequences for their vile acts against humanity. But I don't think that ever really happens in this lifetime. I don't think perpetrators can begin to understand what havoc they have brought into a precious life. It just feels like you are going crazy and that their never will be an end to the inner turmoil.

Cardinal Bernard F. Law eventually resigned as archbishop of Boston on December 13, 2002. But he went on to go to Rome and receive even higher honors. So much said for the bungling job he did in covering up the continuing rape and abuse by Catholic priests. He went on to be appointed by John Paul II to a post in Rome, putting him in charge of the Bascilica di Santa Maria Maggiore, with the title of Archpriest. Law will reach 80 on November 4, 2011 and will then lose the right to participate in any papal conclave.

John Geoghan, the priest who was brought to trial for his abuse of minors under 14, was eventually sentenced to 10 years in prison. He was murdered in his prison cell as Joseph L. Druce tightened a crude noose around his neck even as Geoghan begged for mercy - a mercy he had never given to any of his victims. Geoghan lay face down on the floor of his cell not 20 feet from the guard station in a "secure" prison. His 30-year perpetration of young boys came to a hideous end. He had been a pedophile, a liar, and a manipulator and "a threat to any young boy who may have the misfortune to be in contact with him" (statement issued by Judge Sandra Hamlin as she sentenced him to his 10-year prison term).

But what about the victims? When will their sentence be over? The pain just doesn't stop as was attested to by one of the victims in the movie. His whole life was shattered after the attack when he was just twelve. His brother was a victim as well. One family had seven sons that were all molested by Geoghan. The mother had sent a registered letter to Cardinal Law in regard to what had happened, but nothing was ever done. The power and control vested in one man ruined hundreds of lives forever. No amount of money would ever be able to compensate the losses that were incurred. How could money redeem them from the life sentence of hell that had been given them?

I could relate to the stories of these young men. My experiences were different, but the lasting results were the same. They trusted their priest. I trusted my seminary teacher. I had respected, admired, and trusted him. When he violated me, along with other perpetrators, my life as it should have been was over. It would never be the same again. There was no way to retrieve what had been lost. The pain inside my heart, the emotional upheavals, the scars, the fears, the lack of trust were now realities. This was what I was left to deal with. Prison is too good for a perpetrator. What they deserve will be administered by a higher judge some day. They will then begin to know and understand what their lustful desires gone uncontrolled have created. They will know and understand the pain that doesn't stop. But will they ever know or understand what might have been for their victims? What would life be like without the pain, without the fears, with the ability to trust and move forward in life happily? I wish there was a prescription they could take that would open up their heart and give them an understanding vision of what they truly have created. I wish they could literally walk in the shoes of their victims and realize what they stole from their lives. If there is such a thing as reincarnation, maybe their karma will have them being a molested victim in another life, so they can witness firsthand the pain that doesn't stop.

Child Sexual Abuse Reports in Kenya Mirror Sex Abuse Patterns in Boy Scouts of America

I received an email from Kelly Clark, a Portland, OR based attorney devoted to the rights of those who have been sexually abused. Here is the Link to the Kenya Sexual Abuse article: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-11492499. I have spoken with Kelly personally, and he is truly supportive of those who have experienced the trauma of being sexually abused. He fights for them in the courts as well as working on getting legislation passed in favor of the abused. His comments about the Kenya article:

"The news that over 1000 teachers in Kenya have been dismissed in recent years for sexually abusing girls is stunning.

No matter how long I do this work, I never get used to such things—and especially not to such numbers.  If you assume that, on average, each teacher involved had 10 victims—a conservative number, according to psychological literature—there are at least 10,000 girls affected.  But wait: we know that only a handful ever get caught or reported: 10% would be a very high number.  But even if it is that, there would be as many as 100,000 girls abused.  Again, the problem seems to be of staggering proportions.

This dynamic is similar to what we learned in the sex abuse trial of the Boy Scouts in Portland this past spring.  We had over 1200 “Perversion files” introduced into evidence, all concerning Boy Scout leaders sexually abusing boys, just from 1965-85.  Expert testimony established that, for such an environment, each such Boy Scout leader would have, on average, 10-20 victims, and that, perhaps 10% of all sex abuse in the Boy Scouts  would ever be reported—a very optimistic number, the experts agreed.  But if you do that math, it means that somewhere between120,000 and 240,000 boys were sexually abused in Boy Scouting, JUST from 1965-85.  And we know that the Boy Scouts have been keeping their “confidential Perversion files” on child sexual abusers since 1925.    As I have said repeatedly since the trial, I am personally convinced that the problem of child sexual abuse in the Boy Scouts is at least as serious, if not worse, than the sexual abuse problem in the Catholic Church."

Kelly does trial work for the abused against the Boys Scouts, Catholic Church, Seventh Day Adventists,  and Mormon (LDS) Church. His web site: www.kellyclarkattorney.com states: 

"Kelly Clark is a trial and appellate lawyer representing individuals, families and businesses against large or powerful institutions, public and private. He is recognized for his courtroom skills, for his knowledge of public and constitutional law, and for his tenacious and creative litigation strategies. A former two term legislator, as of 2009 Mr. Clark has practiced before or against some 85 federal, state and local government agencies. He has brought cases in state and federal court on civil rights, voting rights, education rights—including pioneering wins for charter schools—as well as cases on religious liberty, free speech and property rights. He has been legal counsel to numerous political campaigns, including legislative, congressional and gubernatorial candidates."

I am very impressed with Kelly's dedication to those who have been abused. It feels good when you have such talent and expertise dedicated to non-tolerance of such pernicious acts. I would like to see more who are devoted to rooting out this "disease" which affects all of us in our country as well as the world. If we could look into the hearts of the perpetrators, what would we discover? Do they have core issues of their own that stem from being abused in one way or another? What sad/bad things have they had to deal with that causes them to act out in such a manner? I believe they have sustained such deep hurts themselves that they only know how to act out in anger. If they were educated and had those who loved them counsel with them, could they be restored to their original blueprint of love? I believe so. I don't think hate and anger will change them. I believe it has to come from a foundation of love and acceptance and them being able to see what damage they are doing to their victims as well as to themselves and their loved ones. 

I am dedicated to getting the word out that there is much abuse going on behind a wall of secrecy and threats. Sexual abuse is never about sex. It's about control. There are positive ways that perpetrators can use to being whole and healed themselves. It begins with them doing their own soul-searching to see what lies at the root of their abusing others. Below their anger, there is pain - pain that is buried. It is pain that needs to be brought to the surface where it can be resolved and perpetrators can become whole and high-level functioning individuals. 

If you know someone who has been abused, or if you know someone who is a perpetrator, encourage them to seek counseling. I also am available and may be reached at: puggie37@yahoo.com.