The House that Built Me

Another song that speaks to me...I would think for obvious reasons but just in case let me try to shed some light. The last few months have been really hard. I don't really feel like I belong here. Add to that the fact that the one childhood home I have always had in a lot of ways is no longer available to me. It just isn't "home" any more. I look back on the years I've spent there and while the memories will always be in my heart sometimes the void I feel just doesn't seem like it will go away. I love Miranda Lambert's music so when this CD came out, I rushed out to buy it. It wasn't what I expected. I've grown used to the ummm harder side of her...the side that doesn't really like men and again for obvious reasons that appeals to me. When I heard this song, I cried to the point I was sobbing. For the first time since I lost my mom, the walls all came down and I truly felt the loss and I couldn't put the tears away for hours afterwards. I know they say crying is cathartic and I'm sure on some level it was good for me but, in that moment this song just really summed up how I felt and what I will be leaving behind. So as I go in to the first holiday season that I'm not spending with my mom filled with mixed emotions and a lot of uncertainty, I wanted to share this song as it pretty much sums up how I feel. I won't be going "home" for the holidays this year or pretty much ever again.

The House that Built Me
Miranda Lambert

I know they say you can’t go home again
I just had to come back one last time
Ma’am I know you don’t know me from Adam
But these handprints on the front steps are mine

Up those stairs in that little back bedroom
Is where I did my homework and I learned to play guitar
I bet you didn’t know under that live oak
My favorite dog is buried in the yard

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
This brokenness inside me might start healing
Out here it’s like I’m someone else
I thought that maybe I could find myself
If I could just come in I swear I’ll leave
Won’t take nothing but a memory
From the house that built me

Mama cut out pictures of houses for you
From Better Homes and Gardens magazine
Plans were drawn and concrete poured
Nail by nail and board by board
Daddy gave life to mama’s dream

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
This brokenness inside me might start healing
Out here it’s like I’m someone else
I thought that maybe I could find myself
If I could just come in I swear I’ll leave
Won’t take nothing but a memory
From the house that built me

You leave home and you move on and you do the best you can
I got lost in this old world and forgot who I am

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
This brokenness inside me might start healing
Out here it’s like I’m someone else
I thought that maybe I could find myself
If I could just come in I swear I’ll leave
Won’t take nothing but a memory
From the house that built me

False Sense of Security?

So, it has been a while since I blogged again. Sorry...I've been taking a "break" from life. I spent a few days in Colorado with family and wasn't ready to come back to "reality". But, unfortunately, reality was ready for me and waiting before I even made it out of the airport. A couple of things to note that I realized while I was away...

• I highly recommend seeing the movie "Law Abiding Citizen"...it won't appeal to everyone but it did appeal to me and after you see it you will understand why. I keep wondering where I can get some of those gadgets. It is one of those movies where you can't figure out just who the bad guy is...and if it is who you think it is...then you find yourself cheering the bad guy on. Okay...again...maybe that's just me. I totally understand what it is like to have someone push you past the boundaries of reason.
• You can run but...you can't hide. I tried to escape from the realities of living in Hell...and well...it didn't work. While I avoided the phone, the computer, and various other commitments...they didn't avoid me or go away while I was basking in the blowing snow at the Air Force Academy game. The probate continued on..the difficulties with settling the estate carried on...the issues with the old job snuck back in...the fact I don't have a "new" job is still weighing heavy. I tried to borrow Heart's box and labeling system to file them away for just a few days and just let go and relax and for the most part...I was very successful.
• I really didn't want to come "home". Don't get my wrong, I missed the critters and family. I just didn't want to be here because as hard as I try...this just doesn't feel like home. I feel at home when I'm anywhere but here...which I guess brings me to the point of this blog...the false sense of security....

So....while I was in Colorado....I think I found myself lulled in to a false sense of security...not from all the above mentioned things but...from the psychopath that just won't go away. I hadn't heard from him in a while. Who knows...maybe that played a part in my thinking it was finally over...well...not over but that he had finally moved on to his next target. There will be another target some day. People like him just don't stop. People think I keep wanting to move from here because I am "running" from him and it really isn't that. Yes, I hope that being in another state will help me to stop looking over my shoulder. But, I'm also realistic enough to know this experience has changed me forever and it is such a part of me now that no matter what zipcode I'm in...he...this...will always be with me. For a few days....for a small amount of time while I was nestled in the Rockies...I let down my guard. I didn't constantly worry that he was around every corner. I was lulled in to a sense of security and when I came home it was shattered. The phone rang...and it was that voice. What really sucks is once I hear that voice it doesn't go away for a while afterwards. It completely rocks my world. I'm right back there again and it plays like a movie clip in my head. Will that change if I hear that voice and I'm a few thousand miles away? I don't know. But, I do know that at some point there has to be peace. I can't run forever and any illusions of security that I found in that peaceful winter snow are now muddied and gray like snow gets when it has been there for a few days and the cars leave their mark.

Missing the peace I had found
XoXo
Pandora

When did NO stop meaning NO??

Okay...so it has been a few days since I have blogged. I have been feeling a little more tired than usual and thinking I might be going in to another "flare" of the lupus but, c'est la vie life goes on. I didn't want the readers of the blog to think I was avoiding blogging because of the topic matter from my last rant. So...on to the next in the series...

When did no stop meaning no? Walk through any major retailer these days and you can hear this conversation: "Mom, can I have this?" "No." "But Mom...all my friends have it." "No, if your friends jumped off a bridge would you do it too?" "Depends...how high is the bridge and how deep is the water?" "I still said NO!" "But Mom...please." "Will you stop whining if I get it?" "YES! Thanks Mom."

Doesn't that seem like an innocent enough conversation? But, take that conversation in a very different context. What happens when a teenage girl in the backseat of a souped up Chevy says no and the guy with her pushes on anyway? What happens when someone goes through a traumatic event and wants to avoid contact & their mate pushes them thinking it is okay for them to touch them anyway? What happens when a couple is in bed and she says not tonight and he pushes on anyway? We all know it happens. Every day...women around our country...our world say no and it isn't heard or respected. We minimize and trivialize. We laugh off the off-colored comments made about our sexuality at work. We try to make light of someone who touches us inappropriately because we don't want to "rock the boat". Women are told in subtle and not so subtle ways...you have to go along to get along. No stopped meaning no and I don't know how we change that back. I'm not sure it has to be a cultural change in the women of our world. I think we have to start with the young boys...the men of our future. I know that 9 times out of 10 when I hear that conversation in the store...it is usually with the Mom. Do we as mothers/women start the ball rolling with no not meaning no when we give in to these requests? These are the formative years and kids have a hard enough time reading the mixed messages we send them so do we start them down this path early in life where when a woman says no she doesn't really mean no? Just food for thought...I don't know what the right answer is but I know in the 10 minutes it has taken me to write this blog...5 more women in our country said no and someone didn't listen and their personal boundaries were violated.

Wondering wistfully,
XoXo
Pandora

Shining my Own Light...

****WARNING - THIS ENTRY CONTAINS CONTENT OF A VIOLENT SEXUAL NATURE - PLEASE BE ADVISED THAT READING WILL BE DIFFICULT ****

In the last few weeks, I've spent a fair amount of time talking to some people I care about regarding some things we all share in common. These things aren't the things you want to share with anyone else let alone people you care about because these are the unspeakable things no one wants to happen to others. The content of this blog will be a mixture of things...it will be me sharing my own personal experience...it will be me shining the light on the face of sexual assault in our country....and it will be my views about the topic our country works so hard to shame the victims of a violent crime about. For the purpose of this blog and because I am a woman, this blog will consist of only statistics/views on women survivors.

A while back, I was reading a book on the subject of sexual related crimes, it was a victim's accounting. The author, an expert on the topic, summed up how our country sees sex related crimes pretty well with the following story:
A woman walks in to a party...she is black and blue, lip split, eye swelled shut...a crowd gathers to ask her what happened and she said she was mugged in a dark alley on her way to work. Everyone wanted to hear her story, they wanted the gory details of how her assailant brutally beat her until she gave up her purse. The crowd hung on her every word and then comforted her along the way telling her how brave she was to fight back and how noble she is to share her story.
A woman walks in to a party...she is black and blue, lip split, eye swelled shut...a crowd gathers to ask her what happened and she said she was raped in a dark alley on her way to work. No one wants to hear her story, they don't want the gory details of how her assailant brutally beat her until she couldn't fight back any longer. The crowd dispersed around the room and stood in small groups whispering that she shouldn't have been in a dark alley to begin with and that no wonder this happened, after all she wears those short skirts to work.
What's the difference? Is the woman in scenario 1 any more a victim than the woman in scenario 2? How is the rape victim to blame for what happened to her...ostracized and criticized and the mugging victim is a heroin for surviving her ordeal? Is our country's preoccupation with Puritanistic views to blame? This is the best kept dirty secret in the US.

Here are just a few crime statistics for you to ponder as you read the rest of this blog:

• 17.7 million American women have been victims of attempted or completed rape.
• 1 out of every 6 American women has been the victim of an attempted or completed rape in her lifetime.
• 15% of sexual assault and rape victims are under age 12.
• In 1995, local child protection service agencies identified 126,000 children who were victims of either substantiated or indicated sexual abuse with nearly 30% of child victims were between the age of 4 and 7.
• In 2007, there were 248,300 victims of rape, attempted rape, or sexual assault. (These figures do not include victims 12 years old or younger.) That means there is 1 sexual assault every 127 seconds, or about 1 every 2 minutes.
• Sexual assault is one of the most under reported crimes, with 60% still being left unreported.
• 
• Approximately 2/3 of rapes were committed by someone known to the victim. 73% of sexual assaults were perpetrated by a non-stranger. 38% of rapists are a friend or acquaintance. 28% are an intimate. 7% are a relative.

Put 6 women you know in a room...and know that 1 of them stands a good chance of being the survivor of a sexual assault. Get a sticky note...label it victim...then walk around the room. Who would you want to stick that label on...your mother? Your sister? Your daughter? Your wife?

It is easier to look at these numbers if you don't have a face to put them to. So take a good look at me...I am the face you need to put them to. I'm the sister, the daughter, the mother, the wife that this has happened to. I'm a highly functioning, intelligent woman. I'm a college graduate who even worked in the criminal justice system and thought I was a good judge of character. I was vigilant when I traveled for work or when I was in the "sleazy" part of town. I know I've said it before in my blog...I've sugarcoated it and put the prettier label on it but, the truth of the matter is...I'm Pandora and I'm a rape survivor. Why would I say that out loud? Why would I put that down in such a public forum for people to form their opinions about and open myself up to criticism, negativity, shame? Because I'm no less worthy of the woman who was mugged. This wasn't my fault any more than it was hers and until we...the women who have been through this start to shine our own lights and tell our stories to others...and sometimes even to ourselves....nothing will change. Why does it need to change? Because I'm not going to look at my two daughters and tell them they aren't worth changing the world for. I'm not going to look at my future granddaughters and tell them that I didn't think they were worth sharing my story to change the world...even if that is only my corner of the world. I'm not going to look at myself in the mirror for another day...another hour...another minute and say I'm not worth sharing my story to change my own world. We hide in the shadows....we don't talk about it out of fear...shame...contempt for ourselves. We hide from the stereotypes and ridicule. We want to help keep the prevailing dirty little secret that this crime is. We have a stereotype of what the victim looks like...and we even have a stereotype of what the perpetrator looks like. I'm here to shatter that stereotype. My assailant was your friendly next door neighbor, your outgoing co-worker. He was a college educated man, even has a master's degree. On the outside, he was/is the perfect gentleman. He can carry on and function within the societal norms. He was a friend, a co-worker, and someone I completely trusted to look out for me. He is married and has children - boys who I pray won't grow up to be just like him. He is someone I trusted and whom I had no idea held such rage and hatred toward women.
I still find this topic almost unbearable to talk about. Years of therapy/counseling are finally starting to change my self-loathing and self blame attitude. The biggest obstacle I still face is being able to talk about that night and not have it all come flooding back. That's where I am right now. I'm learning to talk about that night and detach any emotional baggage I have left. I know I need to...I know I HAVE to...if I ever want to take back the control he has in my life. This is the first of a series of posts about this. I hope that those of you who have made it this far through the story will take a seat, buckle up and take this ride with me....especially those of you who I tell day in and day out...you have to talk about it...you have to take back the control. I hope that you find strength and some comfort in my words...and if you take nothing else from this...know...you are not alone. It is time to shine the light...no more hiding in the deep dark self destructive recesses of our own minds.

Wishing harmony and peace
xOxO
Pandora

First Impressions Are Everything...

aren't they? When I was doing the mock interviews the other day, I told the kids that the first impression people get of you...right or wrong...is how you look. While that holds true during an interview...I've come to realize it doesn't always hold true in life. We all know I despise labels but, I have to admit with the Cherry Condom Girl I was really bad about labeling her even before I saw her. So how do labels and impressions go together? My first impression of this girl wasn't what she looked like...it was based on her actions and how those are perceived. So, first impressions also come from how you behave...interesting. But, they don't just stop there do they? Don't first impressions also come from the people you associate with? I've been busting Mouse's chops lately about the girls she spends time with. We all knew them in school...the prissy cheerleader fashion conscious snobby girls. You would think I would be happy that she has a group of "popular" girls that took her in right away and included her in their pack...and I do mean pack...because they are a pack of wolves that would eat their young if they could. Okay...did I mention I'm not real fond of these girls? Mouse comes home and she tells me about how they sit in the lunchroom day in and day out and critique all the other kids fashions...she doesn't wear converse with her skinny leg jeans...oh that shirt was so last season....have you seen the boy she talks to...ewww. I KNOW I raised my child better than that. While Mouse assures me she has not been a part of those conversations ...she just sits and doesn't get involved, I pointed out two key points that I wanted her to keep in mind 1) if you don't do it because it is the wrong thing to do...then why do you associate with the people who partake in the activity and sit silent while they berate other kids...and 2) remember...people who don't know you often form a first impression about you based on the people you associate with. Now before you guys start telling me I need to cut her some slack being in a new school and working to make friends, I want you all to know, I've left this decision totally up to her. I've not once told her she couldn't hang out with these girls. I have told her that if I find out she is engaging in similar behavior she and I will have a come to Jesus meeting in nothing flat. I am trusting her as a parent to find that moral compass again and find the courage to either squash this behavior in these girls or make a choice not to be involved with them at all. My money is that she and her friend yram with ride off in to the sunset together and break away from these contrite little brats.
So where am I going with this....I think as adults we sometimes forget the first impression we leave with people. We start to think it doesn't really matter...they either like us or they don't. I'm not saying be fake or don't be yourself but, I am saying try to temper that with being aware of your surroundings. You never know what kind of person you might miss out on because you left them with a bad first impression.

Just my two rambling cents.
xOxO
Pandora

Cherry Condom Girl

Frozen Lake in Colorado....*sigh*

Everyone who reads my blog regularly knows a few things about me:

• I'm pretty liberal...and very openminded about sex issues/topics.
• I'm very protective of my children...and not real fond of the current education system.
• I tend to be very opinionated...otherwise I probably wouldn't have a blog.

Having said all those things....I want to relay a story that took place at my house in the last few weeks. Mouse (the 7th grader) came home after a track meet a couple of weeks ago and said she needed to talk to me in private. I was thinking hmmmm this doesn't sound good. As soon as we got home and she could whisk me away from her siblings she began to relay a story to me that as a parent made any remaining illusions I had of exposing her to public school kids being an okay or good thing vanish like the prom queen's virginity on prom night. On the way back from the meet, they stopped at a gas station to get snacks. I don't think what happened next is the kind of snacking the track coach had in mind. Two of the girls went to the restroom and bought flavored condoms and then had a discussion about which flavor they preferred. I am by no means prudish and if our youth will be engaging in sex, I'm glad they would take precautions to keep themselves safe. I do have issues that these girls were 7th and 8th graders. I'm not saying it is okay for high schoolers to be engaged in sex acts either but, I'm realistic enough to know it happens every day in schools both public and private every day. I do find it appaling that girls that are 11-13 know what flavor condom they prefer. I can't begin to tell you as a parent all the bells and whistles that went off in my head. I've been to seminars where they talk about girls, 12 and 14 year olds on their first and second babies. I know that stuff happens. But, to have my own child put it in this perspective for me was something I wasn't prepared for at all. Where was the adult supervision on this trip?!? My daughter spends the majority of her week with other people in an environment that I'm not always thrilled with. I do expect them to exercise some control in these situations and provide adequate supervision. This doesn't even begin to cover the fact that I just realized that a group of very influential girls are left to travel with a single 24 year old male track coach. THIS is why I usually don't allow her to ride the bus back from the meets. But, I tried to take a step back and not totally flip out. There were some positives in all this which I will get to later.

So, I engaged in a conversation with both my daughters about safe sex, good public decorum, and what I would like for them as a parent to do but, what I will also support them with should they make choices. This isn't the first time we've had this conversation. It was just a little more intense. I also told Mouse that I thought I wanted to talk to the school about this incident just to voice my concern as a parent. She begged me not to (didn't want to be labeled the snitch) and against my better judgment, I relented. The girl involved will always be Cherry Condom Girl from here on out though. (On a side note - someone did say something to the coach and it really wasn't me...honest :) )

The following week - district track meet rolled around and it was the last meet of the season. The team was going to stop afterwards to eat dinner together. As a parent, I wanted her to come home with me but, I also didn't want her to miss out on the commradery of the day. So again, I didn't use the best of judgment when I allowed her to ride the bus back. I got a text message from her on the way home saying a group of kids was passing the condom around and taking turns licking it. Ummm EWWWWW!!!! That is just nasty on so many levels. I didn't ask if anyone was wearing it or if this was just like a piece of candy they were all sharing (You're welcome for the visual Heart :) ). I couldn't discuss that via text message so when we both got home, I asked her what the hell was going on. She relayed to me that a group of girls and boys was passing this thing around the back of the bus taking turns licking it to get a taste. Wow...I was just mortified and grossed out. Talk about germs....that is a good way to spread every "itis" out there...hepatitis, menengitis, you name it. What stopped me in my tracks though was what she told me next....she got up and moved to the front of the bus. She made a choice not to give in to the peer pressure and did what she felt was right. In that moment, I knew that she would be just fine in public school or anywhere else she goes. She used her own moral compass and did what she felt was right and totally disenaged from a bad situation.
I finally saw Cherry Condom Girl....years from now when they walk across the stage at graduation (if CCG makes it that far)....they can call her by her name but, I will still see nothing but Cherry Condom Girl. Which brings me to a whole other blog for another time....Impressions....

Again - a proud Mom....

XoXo
Pandora