I'd like to dedicate this weeks blog to sharing my story with all of you.
You may want to grab a kleenex or two for this one.
I was born and raised in the country side of Longview, WA. I’ve always been known as the entertainer in the family and you would always find me outside exploring. I grew up in a large family, with 9 brothers and 4 sisters.
On our property of ten acres we hunted, and harvested various fruits and vegetables. We were almost completely self sustained from the land. I hope someday I can get back to living that type of lifestyle. This is where my passion for hunting and the longing to always be outdoors was born.
Home during the fall.
We attended a church on a hill called, Lestadian Lutheran Christianity. We were dedicated believers and would attend church every Sunday and Wednesday. Everything we did in life was based off this religion. When I was young, roughly 10-12 years old I was sexually abused by a brother several times. I remember going to church and listening to the minister preach the gospel and I would tell myself, I’ll be ok. I told myself over and over that the sins my brother acted out upon me had been forgiven, and my feelings of shame and guilt would disappear. Over the next 15 years the fact that I was a victim of abuse became a suppressed memory. Was it because of the religion and its teachings that made me forget? Did I truly believe that when a is sin is forgiven it should never be spoken of again? Or was I just young scared child who felt so guilty of what I allowed to happen? Maybe it was a combination of both. Talk about sex-ed never occurred in our household growing up. Sex was to be saved for marriage and the only education I had on it was what I received in middle school. If you have kids, please, please talk to them about the human body, and your right to say no! A little education and awareness can go a long way.
Research from DoSomething.org shows that 90% of child sexual abuse victims know the perpetrator in some way. 68% are abused by a family member.[3] and-
1 out of 3 girls and 1 out of 5 boys will be sexually abused before they reach age 18.[2]
It wasn't long after I came out with my secret that others started to confide in me, telling me about similar situations that had happened to them. These were people I worked with, people I grew up with, people whom I just met and for some reason they felt comfortable telling me their truth. It breaks my heart that I know over ten people who have been victims of some sort of abuse (in most cases, by people related to them). Cousins, dads, step-dads, brothers, aunts, ministers, and yes in some cases they were non-realties.
-Us four youngest kids and dad hunting in Klickitat WA.
The days revolving around these unfortunate events, I felt overwhelmed and would end up in tears of frustrated due to not being able to place my feelings. Many times in these moments of overwhelming frustration, I'd find myself running towards the woods, away from the house. The crazy part is I felt completely out of control, as if something bigger was forcing my legs to move, and the further away I ran the better I felt. I had two spots in particular I liked to escape to. One was next to a pond just behind the house where I'd sit amoungst the mossy trees and look out across the water, watching the ducks fly about as I counted the fish that jumped. The other spot I loved was tucked back in the forrest on a steep hillside covered in fur trees and ferns, and when I sat down I felt so small.
But despite the horrific things that happened to me, there was so much good that came from my childhood. People often ask me "do you like being from a big family?" And my answer is always, yes. As kids we never were bored, we had playmates for life. Yes there were the usual arguments and fights but we had so much fun whether it was playing "kick the can" (a night game) or playing and swimming in the creek below the house to cops and robbers in the basement. When I think back to being a child I think--- JOY.
My teenage years leading into my young adult years became a fog as I went about high school. Many of us were bullied and teased for the way we believed, and one day I had enough and slammed a guy into the soda machine telling him if he didn't stop, he better watch his back. As I walked away his friends surrounding him looked at each other as they wondered what just happened? After graduation it didn't take long to move out of my parents and into an apartment with my sister and cousin. As the next couple years went by I noticed depression setting in as I lay awake at night crying and the mood swings wouldn't go away. I felt disconnected from many people and always escaped to the peace and quiet of nature surrounding me.
When I was 20 I moved to Colorado and started working as a photographer and nanny for Whitewater Rafting llc. I was shy and timid as I walked passed the smelly raft guides who lounged around drinking beer in a raft, debriefing at the end of their day. I had never been surrounded by alcohol and frankly I didn't know the difference between beer and alcohol. Many days as I walked by, the guides would invite me to join them, whether it was for dinner, or for a game of ultimate frisbee at the local park by the river. I always politely declined for I usually had a church event or a youth group to attend. As time went on I started to feel more comfortable around those smelly raft guides and actually enjoyed being around them. They were good people and they always respected my religious beliefs and not once made me feel uncomfortable.
It didn't take long and I started to spend more time with my rafting friends, for I felt a special connection with not only them but with the river as well. We'd get on the river and float, and play around in kayak. That summer I made the decision to leave the church. Leading up to that moment this was one of the hardest things I've ever done. But I knew I needed to do it for I felt so disconnected sitting in the church bench, listening to the minister speak. I didn't know why I felt this way but I knew the only why to discover why, was to leave. I was criticized and questioned by family and church members for my decision and everyone kept reminding me how sad they were for me. Why couldn't they just let me live my life? I was still the same person but just choose the believe differently. Why was that so hard to understand? That summer was filled with so many good memories and friendships made but when it came to an end and everyone left I suddenly felt alone. My support group was gone and the pressure from my family to come back to the church became so overpowering, I gave in and "repented".
Later that year I joined a CrossFit gym and before I knew I was hooked. I excelled quickly and started lifting heavier and heavier weight. The trainer loved it, and every time I showed up to class it became a competition on being the first one to complete the workout. And I usually did, until one day. On this day in particular part of our workout consisted of a lift called, snatch, by using your body to thrust the weight up as you squat. For some reason I couldn't get the weight up. My trainer kept telling me "you got this, just focus" as the others in the class cheered me on. As everyone else started finishing their workouts I was still struggling trying to get that weight over my head. I became overwhelmed, feeling weak I threw the bar down and ran out of the gym as tears shot out of my eyes. As the fresh cold air hit my lungs I was reminded of that young girl who use to run away from home. And I asked myself, what the fuck is going on?
That night was a turning point in my life. As I sat in the car with my good friend, beat down and stripped to the core I told her my truth. It wasn't easy by any means and as the tears continued to flow down my cheeks the truth slowly came out. Man did it feel good. I felt like a giant weight had been lifted off my shoulders and I felt a sense of freedom I hadn't felt since being a little girl. The words had been spoken and now it was time to start healing. The next year was very confusing for me as I left the church once again, adding to the emotional roller coaster I was already on. I felt as though I had no support and being so weak I struggled to reach out for it. So I went back to what I knew. I started to drink a lot, distracting myself with men and booze. It made me feel wanted, and beautiful. Soon I was partying every night and it didn't take long to forget again. To forget about that night at the gym and that night in the car reviling my secrets to my friend, and those terrifying moments in the cabin where he laid his dirty hands on me.
Wednesday nights during the summer there was free music in the park which my friends and I would always attend. Afterwords we would continue to drink at the local hotel where they served $1 beers and $3 wells. A deadly combination. But the more I drank the 'happier' I got until one night when I drank too much. At the time, I had been seeing this guy for a little while and when I looked over and saw him flirting with another girl at the bar, with his hand on her back I did what I knew best. I ran out of that bar. Filled with feelings of being used and angry with myself for allowing myself to go this far, I ran and ran. As I reached the local park I heard two of my girlfriends shouting from behind me to STOP and talk it out!I fell to the ground sobbing as my body shook and I gasped for breath. As I laid in my girlfriends arms I screamed out loud, "why me?" "Why did you have to do this to me??" I had hit rock bottom. No amounts of booze could keep this secret inside me and it was time to get professional help. I knew that was the only way to start healing but how was I suppose to do that when I was already so weak? I somehow found the strength to get up off the ground, completing my next step in healing.
You may wonder, why is she telling this story? You guys, it's simple. These stories NEED to be told, these sad, heart wrenching topics NEED to be talked about. For those of you who have been in the same situation my heart goes out to you for your strength and pursistance in standing tall to YOUR truth. And if you have suffered any type of abuse - you are STRONG enough to tell someone, and once you do your life will be changed forever, for the better. I promise.
Telling my truth is my most PROUD moment, there's no question about it. Over the next few years I started to realize the more time I spent doing things I love (all things outdoors, photography, yoga, cooking for friends) the happier I was because the clearer my mind was.
September 2016 I spent (almost) the entire month pursing elk with my bow by myself. On the weekends some of the family would come out and hunt with me but they would always leave Saturday evening leaving me alone at camp. There was a strange exciting feeling to be camping and hunting by myself. This month was dedicated to learning as much as I could about elk but in the end I learned more about myself. I highly encourage you to go someplace, to do something, all by yourself. There's no doubt about it you'll walk away a changed person.
Many close encounters!
Many sunsets from the hammock.
Many close encounters with bears, coyotes, elk, deer and mountain lions!
So so many miles hiked. Roughly 150!
Failer upon falier finally lead to success. Look at that smile!
Such a special day with my dad and sister. I hunted this bull for 2 years, and even had him at 80 yards just a few days prior (unable to get a shot). What a rewarding feeling it was to finally outsmart him and give the opportunity to my sister to make a one arrow kill shot!!!!
Anyway, I'm far from being healed and trust me I still have bad days. But we are all in this thing we call LIFE, together. So let's do just that. As the holidays come and we see family and friends from near and far remember to hug them a little tighter, and remember it's OK to have those hard conversations for the more we have them, the easier they become. On that note if you need someone to talk to, about anything, please don't hesitate to reach out to me. I'm here for you.
Peace!
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