I expected the readers to be here to get something, and not to give. And they didn’t disappoint.
I expected people to not see beyond their noses and they didn’t… but still, kudos to the ten brave souls that forced themselves to think something.
It was hard, wasn’t it? Now I am talking to those ten.
What would happen if you did this every day? You’ll start to build some serious muscle in problem solving, and by the time you actually need those muscles, you would have them.
I promised, you delivered, so I must tell you what happened next in that story.
You know that I blasted the little girl… and I did. I was like you: stopped on the surface.
But then: I didn’t sleep well. I woke up with a question:
is this seven year old little girl sexually abused?
I muscle tested it, and the answer was yes. I closed my eyes and could see it… nothing too explicit, but intimacy, hugging, sleeping together… masturbating while the child is present.
I called the mother and broke it to her.
She had the signs. The child even said, after a month or so of being left alone with the father: “Daddy really messed me up.” she said.
But she, the mother, thought, nah, he is religious, he wouldn’t do such a thing.
And she was planning to leave her with the father alone… a lot, to pursue her own interests, to spend time with the son who was much nicer.
Crying, carrying on…
It is clear to me that she (and you) don’t understand: it is more important what will happen than what has happened.
What gives you being in the present moment is the future you live into.
Much like walking into the wind… where the wind is coming from gives you being in the moment.
She promised her child to keep her safe. The child miraculously stopped since to have any anger… but unless she understand, she’ll stop confirming her promise, the future of safety, and maybe even throw her to the dogs.
I don’t remember acting out as a child, but I probably did. I told people in kindergarten that my father had sex with me… they ostracized me, prohibited their kids to play with me, but didn’t do anything. And neither did my mother.
The abuse lasted 2-3 years, ending with me screaming real loud… only that, the promise of being discovered, made my father stop.
From that point on we never talked, never spent time together. I lost my mother and I lost my father. I had nothing to say to my brothers. I was alone, and the anger was killing me.
It took many many many years of therapy. In psycho analysis I saw that part of me enjoyed the stimulation. That was very confronting. But without seeing that I would have never recovered.
If you are a mother, you never have the courage to disrupt your life, pick up and leave with the child. This is what I learn from movies, this is what I learn from my students.
It is the culture we live in. Mothers allowing their children to be abused. I wrote an article about that some years ago, saying that mothers perpetuate the culture of abuse.
So, to those of you that answered: you can’t give a sound advice unless you ask more questions… unless you go beyond the obvious, and ask questions.
None of these is natural, and you need to suspect that there is abuse or some other profound big issue underneath it. One out of a thousand abused child turn it into a contribution. The rest perpetuate the culture of abuse… the world your children, grandchildren will live in.
And they will say: she never took care of me, never protected me. And they will be right.