My Mirror in Severus Snape

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I recently read the first two Harry Potter books to my eight-year-old twins. They were astounded by them. My children’s entire lives shifted forever when Harry saw Quirrell standing in front of the mirror at the end of the first book. I knew it would be surprising to them. The brilliance of the Harry Potter stories is their unpredictable nature. And since my children are still processing things as black and white, they just received a mind-blowing lesson in “things are not always as they seem”.

But I have a truly shameful revelation to make. I had never read these books either. I know. I may have been the last person on the face of the Earth who had not read them. I am not sure why. I have always loved fantasy stories. I filled my childhood with unicorns, wizards and fairies just to keep distracted from my reality. But I was already an adult when the Harry Potter series first came out. And I was living in a world of obligation. I didn’t make time for my own entertainment. And my dissociated brain had trouble focusing on books, so I usually didn’t read unless required by school or work. Of course, I went to the theater for the first couple of movies like the rest of the world. But as is usually the case, the books are in another league. Continue reading

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The Human Journey … Passing It On

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For the past eight years, I have worked hard to overcome the difficulties associated with trauma recovery and parenting. It has been anything but easy. I have wanted to quit many times but I am far too stubborn and willful for that. Throughout the process, there have been little miracle milestones that have kept me on track (or put me back on track). These miracles may not seem like miracles to some, but to me, they were incredible experiences. They are incredible because they are changes in the way I viewed the world. My perspective changes. And that is a miracle.

While there have been many miracles, there have been a few that I remember best. One day, I was standing in my kitchen and it suddenly dawned on me that my children were the same as me. I don’t mean they were the same person. But my internalized belief that children were at the bottom of a human totem pole was blown up in an instant. I realized that they were no different from me. They were only born a little later. I wasn’t smarter than them. I wasn’t more privileged than them. I didn’t have more rights than them. I was simply older than they were. I had more experience at life because my birth date was before their birth date. Continue reading

My Inner Rebel Will Not Be Stopped

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My family members were masters at squashing rebellion. It is what any good (or bad) dictator learns how to do before all else. It only takes one person to rise up against you, one bad link in the chain, and the empire can fall. Personally, I could not imagine depending on the fear in others to maintain the life I want. It sounds like a lot of work to keep that house of cards intact. But many are willing to try it because they think it is the only way to have power and control. And honestly, what can be easier than teaching children to fear you … especially if they are your children? I believe this actually works most of the time. I believe there are thousands (or more) of children who never speak of their devastating childhoods, who spend their entire lives deeply hating their parents while going through the motions of one big happy family, even arranging the perfect funeral for their parents in the end.

My parents were expecting everything to happen just like that. After all, it is what they had done for their parents. And who are we kidding? Their parents did it too. Unfortunately for them, they had me. I have a rebellious side. I have always had a problem with people telling me what to do. I told far more people about their abuse than they expected. They had to do far more cover up than they had planned. And then, at 38 years old, I blew the lid off the whole thing, denying them their self-ascribed right to abuse their grandchildren and keep the cycle going. I know they feel like the victims. I know because they told me. They told me I was breaking their hearts and that they didn’t deserve this treatment. They never expected this to happen. But unfortunately for them, they had me. Continue reading

As I Stand In My Way

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As I look at my aspirations for the coming year, I must stop and examine my sense of worth. Is my sense of worth the key to my future manifestations? Are my lofty goals at the mercy of my beliefs about what I deserve? I am starting to believe that the only thing standing in the way of my dreams is me. If I believe I am not worthy of my goals, they will never happen. And as an adult, I have the ability to adjust my own feelings of worthiness, so that I can reach my full potential. I have the ability to say “yes” to my dreams.

But there’s a problem. My sense of worth is marred down by years of messages about my unworthiness. I certainly wasn’t born this way. I see that in my own children. They think they should be able to do anything. They think they should have anything they want. They think they could be anything. It is only the adults (specifically the parents at first) who tell them otherwise. Continue reading

Overqualified for the Job

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I have been thinking about leadership lately. What does it mean to be a leader? What personal characteristics does that require? Is a leader defined by their followers, by their dissenters? What is required of them when they are a leader? And why am I so scared to be one?

In our society, most leaders seem to be figure heads. It appears that most of them have a team of people in the background telling them what to do. And while I agree that everyone should collaborate in their creations, it seems that most of our leaders aren’t creating much. They aren’t standing up for much. It seems that they are maintaining the status quo. So to me, they are not leading. They are staying put. Continue reading

An Open Letter to Samantha Erdeley Rubin

I have been crushed by Rolling Stone’s note about their misplaced trust in the UVA rape victim. In reality, I feel that she misplaced her trust in them … and they re-victimized her. Here is my letter to the journalist which is posted on The Good Men Project.

The Good Men Project: An Open Letter to Samantha Erdeley Rubin

Dear Inner Child

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Stronger Than You Realize by Kris Rozelle

Dear Inner Child,

You’ve been through so much and I am not sure how you coped. Your strength inspires me with every memory I recover. I know you are the reason we are alive today. And I thank you for all you did to keep going. Sometimes, others ask me how I lived through it and I don’t know the answer. You carried that burden. And to some extent, you still do.

Unfortunately, some of those approaches you used to stay alive might be setting us back these days. The dissociation, the isolation and the anxiety were perfect coping strategies in an environment of prolonged and inescapable trauma. But we aren’t there anymore. We live in a different world, a more benign world. Sure, there are still plenty of people who need an attitude adjustment (or much more). And the days when the kids just don’t care about boundaries can be a little rough. But in the current reality, there is safety, the kind you never knew as a child. Continue reading