Breaking the Legacy of Silence #15 Find Your Own Voice, You Were Born to Shine by Kim Bailey Deal|Five 2 One Magazine 

Kim D. Bailey

My 15th installment of my weekly column! Need inspiration? Validation? Go read it now, and please tell me your thoughts on my blog page. I’d love to hear from you.

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Fear does not mean weakness

Some one I care very deeply for was upset because she couldn’t face someone who had abused her.  Well I got to thinking about that.  Fear is a healthy reaction to danger.  If you have ever survived any form of abuse,  you understand that.  I am a survivor.  I have been raped,  molested,  beaten.  I have been in abusive relationships.  I am not now,  because I found my way out of that darkness. I don’t think I could be brave enough to face those who abused me.  When I tried to stand up,  and tell someone…. Well I was not believed.  I was told I was lying.  Even though I showed the signs of the abuse.  So when I was raped by a group of five at thirteen,  Fear kept me silent.  Fear turned into the backbone I needed to become who I am. So I would not be a victim again.  However,  even as strong as I have become,  I doubt that I could face my molester or the five who raped me.  And if I did,  I doubt that I would have anything to say.  The piece of me that was stolen is gone.  I am not that girl anymore.  Nor do I want to be.  So I will keep my fear,  as it strengthens me.  It allows me to realize that there are really monsters out there.  It allows me a chance to know that I won’t break,  for life has tried.  Be proud of what you are,  and do not hide your truth.  For that is what made you.

Nightmares of the human kind

Survivors know,  monsters are real.  They wear human faces,  sometimes even the faces we are supposed to love. I have survived abuse,  been raped more than once.  It is how I have become. I have seen the darkness in  mankind. And just as I am ready to stop seeing the light as possibility,  that is when someone comes to show me there is people who are still worth believing in.

I try to be positive,  for even though I have seen the monsters walking around in man’s skin,  I really don’t want to let the darkness seep too deeply in. To do that,  lets them win. So I teach my daughter that which I was not taught (that no one has a right to do anything she is uncomfortable with) And I make my own way in this scary world.  Some days that means waking up soaked in the tears drawn from the past.  Some days it means pulling away from the world on whole. This is what life is after you meet the nightmares of the human kind.

Truth is far stranger than fiction.

I ride with a trucker. Not that this is strange,  but occasionally over the road strange things occur.  Yesterday was one of those days.  It all started with us going to Dallas on a load.  Nothing unusual,  just take it to the customer and be there by 9am on Monday. Well I am sitting in the passenger seat and reading aloud,  (why buy audiobooks when I enjoy reading?)  and we are about to enter into a construction zone.  Apparently a gentlemen in a rented suv decided to try and enter it at the last second… Even though we were in the way.  So he hit us.  Well my friend pulled over,  called 911. And the  fellow who hit us comes to the driver’s door saying “what the fuck dude? ” my friend respectfully tells him that he is calling for police.  Well several calls later,  (police,  safety,  dispatch)  my friend got out to document the accident and deal with the police.

Well,  later I was informed of what went on.  The guy who hit us,  tried to convince the cop it was my friend who caused the accident.  To no avail. So as a matter of paperwork,  the police officer ran my friends license.  Only to have it come back as suspended for DUI… Mind you my friend has never had a DUI.  So we had to park until it was cleared up. So he told safety,  and after hours dispatch.  We were told the load would be relayed. So we went to bed… Set an alarm,  so he could call the Dmv in the morning. We were woke by dispatch.  Who had no clue what was going on.  He wanted to know why we were late.  So ok… We got moving on phone calls. Turns out the Dmv was upset because he had no insurance on file for a truck that was no longer owned by him. Because he is an otr truck driver getting his mail only happens every third month at best. So he had no notice of the issue.  Took him 10 minutes with the Dmv to fix it,  two hours with his company to get approved to run again.  So we get started to Dallas again… Only to realize that the cop still has his license…. Well time for paperwork to get caught up while we wait for the cop.

Too much on my mind to write fiction, so here is a dish of truth.

Identity is not something that is set in stone.  Even though society seems to see it that way. As a  child of the eighties,  the mere idea of gender fluidity was absurd.  You were either a boy,  or a  girl. And the closest to fluidity was being a tomboy or a nancyboy. Either way,  you were bullied.  And the “no bully” thing wasn’t going on then.  Now mind you,  I am not complaining.  It was just how life was.  I am pleased to see the progress.  For me,  the idea of creating who I am now,  well it is part of what I want in life.  For others it is definitely more painful.

I am “one of the guys” most of the time.  The first person who told me that,  Scared me.  As being one of the guys meant that I was flawed,  somehow less female. Still in truth,  it is how I am.  I am happy working with my hands,  no make-up,  simple hair and pants.  Once in a blue moon,  I will get girly.  Dress up in flowing skirts and soft boots.  I love science and nature,  and not just the flowers.  I have helped to do landscaping.  I have spent time in the pit at the track.  I spent summers working on farms.  Oh what is that?  Girls can do that too?  Well yeah… But I was seen as masculine because of it. I was the center for my high school football team (at one of them.)  And could out bench the football team (at another).  So does that make me a guy?  No not really.  I think that is the problem.  Identity tends to be based on stupid things.

For me,  Identity should be less about male/female and more about what you make of yourself.  I am not male.  I am not female… I fall somewhere in between.  I am a poet. I am a mother.  I am a writer.  I am an artist.  I am human.  I am a gamer.  I am…….