Saturday, October 29, 2011

The Hand Dealt









(Also being marketed in Internationally in countries like Japan, Sweden, Finland, Germany...!!!)

A portion of the proceeds from novel help support local women's shelters



If you need immediate assistance, dial 911. 
The National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).

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What would you do if your daughter came over one day and shared with you that she had been raped?
Would it matter to you who had violated her? Or how many times?
Would you listen to her tears, crying and heart?
Would you get lost in the details? Or simply let her talk, cry and share...consoling and encouraging where you could?
Would it matter to you her age?
Take a moment and put yourself in this very confining and uncomfortable position. And then take another moment to realize that if this has happened to your daughter, your friend...to anyone you know that takes the time and asks to share it with you...would you be doing them a disservice or injury if you didnt listen to them at all?
It is a humiliating experience to have someone impose their will on you physically. A lot of women do not share because of the shame they feel.
But should there be shame?
If they had been in a car accident, or gotten a bad prognosis from a doctor...well, there would be no shame in that.
How then is it then that shame is assigned to forcible rape?
Perhaps we have made strides in our culture over the last 200 or so years; but have we really in regards to how we as a society deal with rape?
A woman being raped screams internally for her attack to be over...she wants her attacker dead...she wants to die herself...she wants to vomit...she wants to beat something up in order to combat her sense of helplessness...
And for most the memory of the attack does not leave...it can shift...it can be put through the test of time and forgiveness...but rarely is it completely erradicated...
And perhaps what is most frustrating, foolish and useless is to have someone who has never been violated in that way try to tell us how we should feel...and how we should process the experience. It cannot be done.
But if women cannot even tell their own families, then how do we learn as a society to talk about it more freely?
Have someone completely take away your choice in the matter...and hurt you physically and emotionally in the process...and then advise me or others on how to feel, how to cope...how to deal.

Talking openly is shield of sorts...not that it cannot ever happen again...but that it doesn't have to keep you helpless...

So if your daughter ever comes to you and tries to share about such an experience...listen...one time or a hundred times...because if her feelings are not validated by someone she trusts, it is very much like being raped all over again...

Life is not a matter of holding good cards, but of playing a poor hand, well ~
Robert Louis Stevenson

Let me know how you are doing.

Michelle








If you need immediate assistance, dial 911. 
The National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).


Born to unusual, but nice, parents, Michelle/Shelby grew up rather uneventfully, living mainly in the deep south (Alabama). Later she would learn that it was her parents' love for her that not only brought them together, but had kept them together. And so life was ideal in many respects and distressing in others. Eventually though the family did scatter like leaves on an autumn morning. Fortunately she was able to extract a sincere appreciation for love, beauty, and an abiding respect for those who at least try.

The single greatest influence in her life was the remarkable time spent with her paternal grandmother;  it was under this influence that she thrived. Her grandmother introduced her to not only fine Literature, but also the Arts and the Opera. And it was beloved grandmother who told her that if she wanted to be a great writer she must first learn to be an avid reader.

Early adult life would be peppered with indecision, failings, and the haunting of things not learned in childhood. But as is the case with most sincere artist, out of the angst of life came a great capacity for creativity.

Shelby considers her writing a gift...a joy, a tremendous responsibility, and something that helps to define her life.
Ms. Anderson is a graduate of Oregon State University; and is also currently working on a master's degree.

She lives in very picturesque Central Oregon with her two children. 

Excerpt from "The House that Silence Bought"



..."Though a crucial part of this story has to do with the events of
an actual abuse case, the greater portion has to do with the backstory        
and the scandalous disclosures that surfaced later. There is a
chance that if my son had never been injured many of these dysfunctions
would have never come to the surface. In life, when people
know who they are and who they can trust, they develop confidence
and good judgment. If they do not have those things, they tend
to become destabilized and flawed. In my life, there was always
this churning cloud of mystery, doubt, and deception. Shedding
light upon those dark places was both scary and uncomfortable, and
yet it was very much worth the effort. The journey depicted here
was laden with unfathomable sorrow and dejection, but also with
great love and courage. Every person has a presence, or an influence,
with which they can make their existence known in the world.
Providing this account gives my son, Jordan, that chance. Some
time ago, my children and I faced an appalling tragedy. During this
time, and on more than one occasion, we were given sanctuary and
hope at Penelope House in Mobile, Alabama. We are appreciative
for the encouragement, assistance, and counseling received as part
of our case management. They also made referrals for us at other
local agencies that provided needed support and resources. When
it seemed that very few people could be bothered with us, the staff
was there showing an unending supply of compassion and respect..."


Let me know how you are doing.

Michelle







(Also being marketed in Internationally in countries like Japan, Sweden, Finland, Germany...!!!)

A portion of the proceeds from novel help support local women's shelters
















If you need immediate assistance, dial 911. 
The National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).


Born to unusual, but nice, parents, Michelle/Shelby grew up rather uneventfully, living mainly in the deep south (Alabama). Later she would learn that it was her parents' love for her that not only brought them together, but had kept them together. And so life was ideal in many respects and distressing in others. Eventually though the family did scatter like leaves on an autumn morning. Fortunately she was able to extract a sincere appreciation for love, beauty, and an abiding respect for those who at least try.

The single greatest influence in her life was the remarkable time spent with her paternal grandmother;  it was under this influence that she thrived. Her grandmother introduced her to not only fine Literature, but also the Arts and the Opera. And it was beloved grandmother who told her that if she wanted to be a great writer she must first learn to be an avid reader.

Early adult life would be peppered with indecision, failings, and the haunting of things not learned in childhood. But as is the case with most sincere artist, out of the angst of life came a great capacity for creativity.

Shelby considers her writing a gift...a joy, a tremendous responsibility, and something that helps to define her life.
Ms. Anderson is a graduate of Oregon State University; and is also currently working on a master's degree.

She lives in very picturesque Central Oregon with her two children. 

Monday, October 17, 2011

...On the Bright Side...

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Born to unusual, but nice, parents, Michelle/Shelby grew up rather uneventfully, living mainly in the deep south (Alabama). Later she would learn that it was her parents' love for her that not only brought them together, but had kept them together. And so life was ideal in many respects and distressing in others. Eventually though the family did scatter like leaves on an autumn morning. Fortunately she was able to extract a sincere appreciation for love, beauty, and an abiding respect for those who at least try.

The single greatest influence in her life was the remarkable time spent with her paternal grandmother;  it was under this influence that she thrived. Her grandmother introduced her to not only fine Literature, but also the Arts and the Opera. And it was beloved grandmother who told her that if she wanted to be a great writer she must first learn to be an avid reader.

Early adult life would be peppered with indecision, failings, and the haunting of things not learned in childhood. But as is the case with most sincere artist, out of the angst of life came a great capacity for creativity.

Shelby considers her writing a gift...a joy, a tremendous responsibility, and something that helps to define her life.
Ms. Anderson is a graduate of Oregon State University; and is also currently working on a master's degree.

She lives in very picturesque Central Oregon with her two children. 




I get criticized sometimes for living in the past because I talk openly about abuse. But it is not true. I live right now in 1987...ha! just kidding I know its the 90's already... ha, again...lol

Seriously speaking I live in the now of 2012. I have two wonderful kids. I work part-time. I write this somewhat useful blog. And I have a novel out...called "The House that Silence Bought".

But this blog is meant for those who are in the trenches, right now...and in order to let them know that I feel their pain...I have to dig deep and share the most uncomfortable parts of my past...and I don't mind. I don't mind because rarely a week goes by when someone doesn't stop and thank me for being bold, courageous and available. And that is a very good thing. Think if I hadn't survived. Think if I had given up. Think if I was still in the trenches.

I have a bright side...in fact I get a lot of criticism for being too bubbly, to optimistic...and irritatingly happy...I can't help it...even as fierce as life was in the trenches it didn't beat it out of me...yeah!!!

Maybe it was because I was such a polly-do-gooder that I attracted mean guys...ha...that is funny and wrong...I attracted broke, mainly because I was broken and couldn't see it...let's see all the situations I can blame my brokenness on...my mom was mentally challenged, my parents divorced, my dad remarried, I was cast aside, my first marriage was abusive and it set the tone for all of my other relationships, I am too trusting, I am not trusting enough, I was sexualized too early, I was intense, overly sensitive and insecure as a child...naw...see none of things made me, broken...they made have helped facilitate brokenness...but there is nothing to blame it on except that I was in fact broken and had no clue about what to do about it.

And I was the worse kind of broken...the kind that thinks they are ok...the kind that thinks they are better than the alcoholic, drug addict, prostitute...when deep down my addictions were just a bit more socially acceptable than the normal bad habits that enslave us.

I got married as a form of addiction...when my dad remarried, I didn't fit in...not that first time in the chronicles of mankind that had happened...so I set out to marry and make my own damned family...only how on earth would I have known how to do that? Nada...I was incredibly bright, but I still didn't know diddly about building a healthy family life. So I went from bad relationship to worse relationship...never quite seeing what it was about me that kept attracting broken...and that is not to say that I deserved to be treated badly...its just I was only attracting guys who would treat me badly...ouch...and what a wake of destruction would follow...wow...

And my family? a lot of them not worth the ammunition to blast them across the street...some were ok...but mostly broken people themselves...and critical and judgmental...and mean spirited...so I did find it hard to fix myself when I really had no safe place to lick my wounds.

But I have figured some of it out...and what I have figured out is that you can re-parent yourself...you can rise above...and you can accomplish things you never thought possible.

Whatever it is that you didn't get from your parents...your childhood...your previous relationships...guess what...you can find a way to get it...to learn better...to chose better...heck, google it if you have to...because the information is out there...on how to overcome insecurity, on how to put up better, healthier emotional boundaries...on how to cook...on how to balance a checkbook...whatever it is that can fill the void...find it...take a class...sit through a seminar...do the work...become the person you want to be...and rather than being left for dead by those who abuse you...forsake you...and cast you aside...be the exception...be the beacon that beckons others who are broken too.


Let me know how you are doing.

Michelle




(Also being marketed in Internationally in countries like Japan, Sweden, Finland, Germany...!!!)

A portion of the proceeds from novel help support local women's shelters



If you need immediate assistance, dial 911. 
The National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).








Boldness, Rape and other Inconveniences...






















(Also being marketed in Internationally in countries like Japan, Sweden, Finland, Germany...!!!)

A portion of the proceeds from novel help support local women's shelters



If you need immediate assistance, dial 911. 
The National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).





So I am fairly bold about what I share here. why? Because what would have been the point of enduring a hardship if you cannot reach out and help someone else who now sits in crisis?
I also run a blog regarding abuse... empoweringwomen88.blogspot.com
So what is on my mind tonight? Rape...why? mainly because it bites...and I have been there. And people who have been raped and felt they couldn't open up about it, need a forum to openly share.
My parents are social and friendly with a man who raped me. How is that supposed to make me feel? It is not bad enough to have someone exert power over you...leaving you to feel helpless, shamed and wounded...but to have him be a good ol' boy who everyone seems to like, well, that bites.
First we have to get into the gnarly aspects of defining rape...because 200 years ago it was thought to be impossible for a husband to rape his own wife...after all she wasn't much more than property...but today she is not thought of as property...she is a human...who, even in God's eyes, has free will...and I am not suggesting that shrews who withhold sex as a form of mental abuse to lord over their husbands are any better...but that wasn't my case.
On average we had sex at least once to twice a week. So I wasn't withholding. And within the framework of the first 2 years of my marriage I enjoyed sex with him. But then it started to be about only gratifying him. It started to feel like rape, even long before he took advantage. I have no idea if he was raped or abused as a child...it stands to reason that he probably was...when a person sees others as merely objects designed to service them, abuse is usually the culprit. But being abused as a child...or being sexualized too early...is still not an excuse...because we also live in a society where we can get therapy...we can get treatment...we can flush old tapes and re-write our emotional hard drives as needed...so it isn't merely a question of him being abused and acting out...it is a question of him not getting help as a grown person and then inflicting his bent, selfish will upon me...and honestly on other females as well.
At this sitting I do not know if he has gotten help. If he has yeah!!! but doesn't it stand to reason that if he had he would somewhere deep inside feel as though he owes me an apology of some sort for violating me?
Yeah...except he doesn't.
In fact he low rates me at every opportunity. He tells people I am crazy, supposedly just like my mother...yet sadly my mother has nothing to do with his abusive nature.
But what always amazes me is that he is a friend of my dad and step-mother's. I am am the butt of jokes and put downs because they are friends. Does my family want to acknowledge him as abusive...or as ever having been abusive? Nope...in their eyes he is just that famous good ol' boy.
This is so painful...the drive you too drink and do drugs kind of pain...the scream your head off because its insane kind of pain...the what in the hell is wrong with my family kind of pain.
Denial is a tool that is only supposed to be used for a short while until our real coping skills kick in...in my family denial is on overload...because 20 plus years is not a short while.
So to those of you who have been raped...either by a stranger, by a friend or even by a husband, I understand. Rape is about control. Rape bends and twists its victims. Fortunately we do not have to stay victims. We can post, we can blog...and we can be bold about what we faced...hopefully so that when others read it they know they can raise about their situations as well.
I used to cry into my pillow when he would touch me; I felt like someone else, namely his mother, was in bed with us; and if I said "no" I would be coerced, not romanced or seduced, but just coerced; and if I dared to pretend I was sick or asleep, well, he would take it...and controlling another person with fear, intimidation or violence is...rape...taking someone against their will is rape.
Did I mention I share two incredible kids with this man? Bites for me...and them.

So family ...you are breaking bread with, and thinking the world of... someone who raped me...what on earth do you want me to think of you...for not wanting to hear about it...not wanting to face it...and not doing anything to support me???
Only God can offer the kind of forgiveness needed to ever have anything to do with either of you this side of heaven.


Let me know how you are doing.

Michelle






If you need immediate assistance, dial 911. 
The National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).


Born to unusual, but nice, parents, Michelle/Shelby grew up rather uneventfully, living mainly in the deep south (Alabama). Later she would learn that it was her parents' love for her that not only brought them together, but had kept them together. And so life was ideal in many respects and distressing in others. Eventually though the family did scatter like leaves on an autumn morning. Fortunately she was able to extract a sincere appreciation for love, beauty, and an abiding respect for those who at least try.

The single greatest influence in her life was the remarkable time spent with her paternal grandmother;  it was under this influence that she thrived. Her grandmother introduced her to not only fine Literature, but also the Arts and the Opera. And it was beloved grandmother who told her that if she wanted to be a great writer she must first learn to be an avid reader.

Early adult life would be peppered with indecision, failings, and the haunting of things not learned in childhood. But as is the case with most sincere artist, out of the angst of life came a great capacity for creativity.

Shelby considers her writing a gift...a joy, a tremendous responsibility, and something that helps to define her life.
Ms. Anderson is a graduate of Oregon State University; and is also currently working on a master's degree.

She lives in very picturesque Central Oregon with her two children.