By: Wanda Yvette
I remember how excited I was to be meeting some new cousins that summer. A picture of a house full of little girls my age was painted in my young mind, so it had to mean I was in for a long, fun summer, right? The day was finally here: the last day of school. Tomorrow night I would be on a Greyhound bus going to a place that would alter the course of my complete existence.
It was an all night ride from Baltimore to North Carolina, exciting for a six year old with the promise of a summer full of running and playing. Life was wonderful. The anticipation of how wonderful it was going to be was magnified as soon as I stepped off of the bus. I was greeted by three little girls who were sitting in the bed of a green pickup truck. It was the first time that I saw the vehicle that would soon hold my innocence. I remember how fun it was riding in the bed of that truck laughing as we passed the rows and rows of cornfields, the same cornfields where my spirit would be broken.
I spent the first week barefooted, priming a well to get water, then boiling it to fill a big silver tub that was placed in the kitchen to take baths. I thought, “Wow, this is fun! I could take baths like this all the time.” Little did I know the very next week, I would be sitting in the same silver tub trying to scrub the feeling of how his finger felt as it entered me.
It was Sunday now, the day my mother was leaving me. My tears and pleas for her to take me with her so I wasn’t left alone were met with the promise, “It’s going to be a fun summer.” But I knew it wouldn’t be because the night before I had my very first trip to the cornfield and that experience proved it would not be a fun summer. She left me anyway.
That Sunday was the day that the woman that would be a THRIVER was conceived. I have been in labor for twenty-seven years. Each time my adult cousin walked me through the cornfield and tobacco barn or the times my teenage cousin raped me from the ages of eight to ten the feeling of shame intensified. Each time the older neighbor would masturbate as he instructed his grandson to pinch my seven year old nose so I was forced to open my mouth, guilt entered my very core. Yes, the Thriver was growing inside. At eleven I discovered the word virgin and realized that my virginity was snatched from me at eight. I think that was the age I found the words for my pain, even though my voice had not developed. I found putting how I felt on paper soothed me, I wrote my very first poem at eleven years old. It was titled, “A Virgin’s Dream.”
A Virgin's Dream
As I lay in a very strange and drugged sleep My main thought was making love to the man I knew I loved but was afraid to show him, No not really afraid, I had a hang-up, a hang-up about sex; But I had a Virgin‘s Dream I lay with my bare body next to his muscular body pressing against mine. As I turned to face him I began to compliment him “Your love is very precious, pure, true and simple, it flows without any force.”
As I awakened to find him over me he was saying “I felt our love in my thoughts and wanted you to realize, happiness shines from within ‘A Virgin’s Dream’ causing all pain to ease.”
My trauma started when I was six years old. It was then, twenty-seven years ago, that I started on a destination to become an incest survivor. At that time in my life that was the finish line, if I could do the work from being victimized, then I’d be a survivor and I would be healed from the childhood incest.
In writing, I found a safe place, a place where I could place my guilt, hurt, and shame. A place where I could place my secret; yes, paper and ink were my safe place. Through the years of multiple sexual traumas, I have found my writings provided me the fuel needed to travel the journey to my true destination: becoming a Thriver.
Although I have found my voice, I continue to express myself on paper. It’s in my writing that I invite other survivors on the road to Thriving, to sit as I hold a safe and comforting space for them to rest on their Journey.
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Wanda Yvette is a survivor of child sexual abuse, aspiring author and motivational speaker. Wanda has worked in the Human Services field for 20+ yrs. serving the youth, homeless, and disengaged citizens of Baltimore, MD. She now resides in Southern GA with her two adult children.
Wanda was determined to heal from the affects the childhood sexual trauma. She found writing during her journey of becoming her Authentic Self was empowering.
Wanda is speaking her truth publicly now and sharing her writings to encourage other survivors to find there voice with safe people to share their truth and offer support. It is her goal to share her story and the lessons she learned while on her journey to becoming a Thriver.