Sometimes it’s not the act. Sometimes it’s the loss of trust and innocence.

I recently had a memory resurface as I was preparing for my new class, “The Art of Loving You”. As I participated in the practice session, I recalled being about eight or nine years old and I was molested by a neighbor. I do not remember the actual act, but I do remember that I just knew when I told my dad he was either going to call the police or go down there and kick his ass. But when I told him, he didn’t do either.

For me, this memory wasn’t about the molestation itself. What it did support, however, was one of my “life stories” of needing to be superwoman and take care of myself, because no one was going to do it for me.

I am blessed to work with many beautiful people and, unfortunately, this is a very common story. It’s often not the act of molestation that creates our life stories. It’s that sometimes we have people in our lives that do not have the tools to handle our story so they shush and shame us. This, in turn, makes us feel that we have done something wrong.

I know that many of you can relate, even if your story doesn’t involve being molested. It may be that you just did not have people in your life who could handle whatever you were dealing with. Hence, we have so many fabulous superheroes running around tired all the time.

But there are ways we can take action to change this for ourselves and those that we love. I know some of you have had this difficult conversation with loved ones already, and I honor you for that. I also know that many of you cannot have this conversation, and I honor you for knowing that too. Sometimes, the best way to heal is by witnessing others’ difficult stories and being empathetic and supportive. Instead of trying to “fix” it when someone shares a crappy experience, sometimes a hug, a knowing nod, and an open ear is what is most needed.

I am fine by the way. I tapped (EFT) that ugliness right out and journaled on it. And I was so grateful to be able to share this story with my friends in the class and to be heard. With them holding space for me, it helped me honor the experience for what it was…SHITTY! And sometimes that’s all it takes for the healing to begin.