Betrayal came into my life at a very young age.
I was four years old when a male babysitter convinced me to place his penis in my mouth. I was reluctant to do so when he asked, my argument being he would "pee." He promised not to do that and so I complied with his request. He then urinated in my mouth.
The horror of that moment still lives in me today. Nothing can prepare a child for the betrayal that comes from a trusted caretaker.
When I was eight years old, I traveled with a beloved family friend, "Aunt Cindy", to Buffalo, New York, where we would visit her sister and brother-in-law. While there, one afternoon the brother-in-law took me in the car to pick up lunch. Back in those days the front seat of the car was a bench seat with no center console.
When we first left the house, I was sitting next to the passenger door with plenty of space in-between us, but when we had driven a ways, he asked me to slide over and sit next to him. The moment he made the request, I sensed something was wrong. Reluctantly, I slid across the seat towards him.
What happened next never should have happened. I remember some of it. I remember telling him I didn't like what he was doing. I remember when it was over, sliding back to sit next to the door again. Years would pass before I would tell.
Even as I write these words today, my body is racked with fear from these memories.
Betrayal comes in many forms and can leave open wounds, scabs and scars across our lives. No one is immune.
For as much as I have been betrayed, I have been loved many more times over.
I've worked hard to heal from my past and to recognize my own wounds and scars and how they frame my world. I've learned to trust and to not be afraid. I have loved.
To me, this is the essence of the Light conquering the darkness.
