Two years ago, I experienced a deep inner shift that freed me from attachment to my older brother, the one who bullied me, molested me, and impregnated me. Until this point, I had a constant yearning for an older brother who loved me, approved of me and would protect me from harm. Even during the years when I was enraged every time I thought of him, I still wanted him to feel remorse for what he did to me. I wanted him to change. And there was even a time when I thought I could help him change.

The thing is, when a person has no clue that their behavior is beyond reprehensible, they don’t see the need to change. My brother will never fully understand the consequences of his behavior in this lifetime.

Two years ago I finally no longer wanted what I never had. It was such freedom!

But, our parent’s estate bound us together in ways my father never considered, because once he swore us all to silence about the molestation and the baby I gave up for adoption when I was barely fifteen, in his mind the matter was closed. Since my brothers and I took over responsibilities of shared property ownership, I’ve had to have several uncomfortable conversations with my older brother every year. And when I’d try to get in touch with him he’d ghost me, not responding to text messages and taking up to a month to respond to emails, if he even answered them.

The moment I became free inside, I had to become free outside. I had to do something so we no longer owned property together. The year after our parents died, when the difficulties of joint ownership first surfaced with complaints about money, I (along with our younger brother) offered to buy out my older brother’s share of one property, but after hemming and hawing for several months, he declined.

Having done lifetimes of healing work since our parents died, with the new burning need to be separate from my older brother, I decided we would trade shares of the two places we inherited. That way we’d be free of having to deal with each other. I’d give up something, he’d give up something, and we’d be separated.

Initially, I was in such a state of grace that I thought it would be ok for my brother to use the place he was giving up if it was not being used, and to compensate us enough to cover basic expenses. But I didn’t anticipate the unbelievable resistance he and his wife put up.

A little over a year ago, after I told them where I was on my healing journey, and about my need to trade property shares, they were not on board at all. My sister-in-law very obviously hasn’t processed her husband’s past and still refuses to process it. She can’t even begin to accept the atrocities her husband did. And she can’t begin to appreciate what I’ve been through. What would really mess her up would be to know that his horrendous behavior towards me stopped because he got with her.

It’s taken over a year of conversations, emails, and eventually finding a lawyer to try to get my brother to sign documents I had drawn up last fall. Documents trading properties.

What he didn’t seem to realize was I could really, really fuck up his life, but that’s never been my goal. Despite the YEARS of horrendous things he did to me. He wouldn’t listen to me. He wouldn’t see my point of view. All I wanted was to be done with him so I could move on, and I told him this in countless emails.

He’s so dense he expected me to sign a release of liability, letting him off the hook for every shitty thing he ever did to me, before he’d let me be free. When I refused, he bullied me yet again and said he wouldn’t sign the separation papers. Instead of smacking my head into a wall, telling the asshole, yet again that he had NO grounds to stand on, when I received the release of liability I found a lawyer to review it and advise me. When the lawyer heard my story, he was incensed and wanted to go to bat for me. Initially, he suggested suing my brother, but as much as I had a solid case it would further entangle me and could take possibly years.

Instead, we came up with what was essentially a warning: a Demand Letter. It gave him a few choices. He could sign the documents that would set me free without my signing his release of liability, or if I signed the release of liability he’d have to compensate me a lot for decades of pain, suffering, and therapy costs. And if he wasn’t on board with either of those options, I’d sue him in civil court where he could potentially lose everything and be dragged publically through the mud. And criminal charges could be brought against him. No matter which option he chose, he’d sign the documents that would separate us, and would no longer be welcome on the property he was giving up.

Dragging his feet every step of the way, the predator finally signed the separation documents he’s had since late December. And I didn’t give away any of my rights! In the end, it’s taken the past three months of working with a lawyer, three more healing sessions, and $$$$. And it’s cost me part of my family. But just the other day I got word that it’s done. And any day now I’ll receive the packet in the mail.

I’m free! It will take a while to fully sink in, but I’m free from the man who made my life a living hell. The man who bullied, raped, and impregnated me against my will. The man who groomed and dominated me for years. Who no longer has any power over me.

I’m free!!

Brain Glitches

I wish I had my brain back. Today is one of those days when I’m in a brain-free zone. My head isn’t foggy, but a bit more. It’s more muddy than foggy. But not quite cement. If it were cement I wouldn’t be able to write at all. Although to be fair, I am struggling to keep focus. It feels more like trying to walk a straight path when I’m drunk. Try as I might, my feet just keep swerving. In this case, my thoughts keep swerving off the path. But it’s ok today.

Energetic crap from deep down is making its way up in anticipation of being released during a healing session. I recognize the pattern now. Sometimes it feels like the moment I schedule a session it gives my body permission to start loosening up. And by the time it’s the day of a session, my body sometimes starts to respond by aching here and there, like a dog whimpering in excitement as their owner grabs a leash to go for a walk. I can almost feel the excited anticipation of both my inner child and my spirit team, knowing that big changes are afoot.

On the separation from my brother front, all’s quiet at the moment. Last week was a tough one; impatience was pounding on my back. But things feel a bit calmer now – the healing I’ve been doing must be working.

And tomorrow I dive back in. To release more inner blocks that will allow more Divine love to shine through. And will help me move further along in my path of awakening.

A Healing Story: Hell

A few weeks ago I dove into my inner world to bring up whatever was ready to be seen and heard, and to be released. With Kundalini energy very active in my body, it’s crucial to have regular healing sessions. Because I couldn’t identify something specific to be addressed, we decided to go into hypnosis to help me connect with my higher self and ask for healing. The beauty about working with the higher self is how safe it is. We can’t hurt ourselves when we work in concert with our soul.

After being relaxed through the induction phase of the session, my hypnotherapist began to walk me down a flight of stairs, taking me deeper into focused relaxation. Usually, she’ll have me walk down some stairs, a common hypnosis technique where the client is further relaxed with each step, and then she’ll have me enter what’s essentially a safe place where we do the work, also another common hypnosis technique.

What was different this time was beginning to access my inner mind as I was walking down the stairs. Before I even got to my “safe place” I began to see the color red. Lots of red. And when I got to the door to my safe place it was charred by fire. The word Satan came to me, along with “the fires of hell.” I was entering hell.

When I went into my safe place it was completely smoke and fire damaged, with scorch marks on the walls and everything in the room. I knew they were references to Satan and hell.

Once in the room, my hypnotherapist asked my soul what was ready to be released today. She asked, “What is wanting to be acknowledged, seen, heard, and released?”

Immediately, I became emotional and the word “rage” came to me.

From my session transcript: I just heard, “Lifetimes of rage.” I feel hell. Literal hell. And I see a lot of red. Everything’s just red. And it’s like blood, too. It’s interesting because the red feels like it signifies Satan and hell, and it feels like rage, and it’s also blood. Like bleeding. Like blood not in a positive way. It feels like life force energy just draining out of me (crying more). Like I’m being sucked dry. I can see a corpse that’s just skin and bones. It’s all gray. There’s no life in it at all. And it’s… me (crying). It’s this part of me that’s completely lifeless and dead. Just see gray, the skin looks weathered like it’s been out in the sun, skin stretched over bone and it’s gray. There’s no flesh and no life. It’s just horrible. (Crying more). I can hear a voice now. She’s just screaming. She’s just standing there and screaming WHAT THE FUCK?? And she’s very young. She’s standing there saying I’m six!!… and what the fuck is going on here?!!! She says this isn’t what it’s supposed to be like.

My hypnotherapist sympathized with my inner child and let her speak some more.

From my session transcript: She (my inner child) just said your family’s supposed to love you… and mine is hell! And she wants to run away. She wants the hell to end. She wants to run away, but what she really wants is for the hell to end. It’s just horrible. And she just sits there saying, “This sucks so bad.” She keeps saying, “I don’t want to be here.” “This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be.” She said, “I’m too young to know Satan.”

Seeing my inner child in so much pain and despair, my hypnotherapist asked if there was a way we could help her. Trying to connect her with a wise, adult version of herself was rebuffed. The little one wouldn’t accept help because she said people are Satan. They lie. I chimed in suggesting we call on someone Divine.

Upon my hypnotherapist calling for someone Divine to come in to help this little one who was in so much pain, it felt like my entire spirit team and then some showed up. I saw a huge group of beings, from ascended masters to angels to my guardians and ancestors, and even some star beings completely encircle my inner child. She was sitting on the ground in the middle, with her head down. Part of her knew they were all there but she was still a little bit afraid to look up because she was afraid Satan was there too.

We talked to the little one, trying to convince her to look up and open her eyes, but she was stuck in fear. As I tried to reach her, it seemed like there was some little thing where she didn’t trust… whammo! Epiphany! Emotional release of tears.

My inner child doesn’t trust herself because as a soul she knows she came here intentionally but she thought it was going to be different from how it’s been. She thought it was going to be a good experience, but it’s not. And part of her thinks it might not be good until she hits the end of her life (when she dies). (Big sobs). Part of her is afraid it’s just going to be painful until the end. And she thinks that if she doesn’t open her eyes then she won’t have to face the feeling that the rest of her life is going to be only endless pain. There won’t be any rest or break from it. So she doesn’t trust that when she opens her eyes it’s going to change.

A few moments after this realization, Mother Mary walked up to her.

From my session transcript: (Huge emotional release of sobbing). Mother Mary picked her up and held her in her arms. I can see the little one just wrapped around her with her face buried in Mother Mary’s shoulder, and she trusts Mother Mary, and Mary’s just hugging her and just loving on her. She’s not even saying a word. Just loving on her, letting her know that she’s ok and that she’s perfect… and that everything’s going to be all right. I can see the little one… she’s actually hearing it. She picked up her head and said, “It is?” She gets it. It’s getting through to her. “Everything’s going to be ok.” She and Mother Mary are talking telepathically. Mother Mary is saying, “Of course, my darling. Life is bumpy, but it’s not all pain.” She’s just saying, “You can do this! I’ve got your back!” And now (more crying) the Little One is opening her eyes to everyone else that’s standing around her, protecting her, looking after her, looking out for her. She’s turning in a big circle, looking around, all the way around, saying, “Wow! I had no idea.” They’re shoulder to shoulder around her, kind of like a fort. She feels like she’s in a fort, and they’re all around her. Some of them have staffs or rods, some of them have swords, some have wings and some don’t. Some are regular people. There are even some beings from other planets. And they’re all radiating pure love and protection. I can see the energy from them beaming onto her as she stands in the middle of the circle, and Mother Mary’s standing next to her still… just being with her. Mary’s holding the little one’s hand and she keeps saying, “Wow! This is amazing. I had no idea!” She’s just taking it all in. They’re (Mother Mary and the little one) holding hands in the middle of the big circle. The little one just said, “Yup! No Satan here! It’s just all love and light. She’s taking it all in. And as she does, she’s becoming happy. Her mood is lifting. She’s standing there saying, “Wow, this is really cool!” Yeah, she’s really good now.

At this point, my hypnotherapist asked if the Divine beings had any wisdom to impart.

I saw Mother Mary directly address the little girl, and she said, “I know it’s been rough, and you now know you’re not walking this path alone. You’ve got great support. Even if you don’t know it or if you forget it, it’s always there. This road right now is a very challenging one, but it’s never more than you are able to handle.”

My hypnotherapist asked if there was any guidance for me regarding waiting for separation from my older, abusive brother to be completed, and the only thing that was said had to do with time. Basically, I’ve done everything I can do and now I have to wait, which I’m finding challenging. My patience is wearing thin, but it’s out of my hands.

Apparently, my soul doesn’t want to know about some things too far ahead because then they wouldn’t be a surprise. And at least according to my soul, surprises are part of the fun of life. And the longer and more drawn out some (unpleasant) things are, the sweeter it is when they’re finally done. This is some of the juice our soul loves to squeeze out of life.

With the imparting of divine wisdom complete, my hypnotherapist ended the session. And what a surprise it was to connect with this little six-year-old who had been stuck in hell: a creation of her making by holding onto mistrust and lifetimes of rage. Religions love to teach that Hell is a place our souls can become stuck in for eternity, but I know otherwise. Hell is a state we create, a feeling, and we can just as easily uncreate and let it go.

Because of so much rage coming out in the world right now, especially with the Black Lives Matter movement growing, it was not surprising that what came up in the session was lifetimes of rage. With Kundalini energy still very active, I resonate with the collective consciousness.

Since the session, with this bit of my inner child happy again, I’ve noticed a new lightness inside.


On this Independence Day, I’m sitting here in a country that won its independence two hundred forty-four years ago through battles and perseverance. In my own life, I’ve learned that independence can often be a state of mind, yet there’s one battle I’m working my way through that is every bit in the very physical world. I’m fighting for freedom from my sexual abuser. There are times to heal within and then there are times to cut all ties. I’ve already let him go in my heart, and it’s time for him to let me go so I can be free.

Achieving independence was something I realized I had to do after experiencing a deep inner healing shift almost two years ago. I knew I’d have to wait a year to put my plan into action, but thought I could attain freedom from my abuser through a face to face conversation and working out a trade. A simple property swap that would be completed through a few signatures. I thought I was going to be free before last Christmas. Not so.

This has become a journey of perseverance, where I’ve learned a lot and along the way have healed a lot. As much of a royal pain in the ass as it’s been, I’m changed because of it, and mostly because of having regular healing sessions. One of the gifts of going through such trials to gain my freedom is seeing the true colors of a few family members. Colors I was surprised to see, and they’re not red, white, and blue. Colors of greed and control.

Freedom is one of the themes we as spirit, as a soul, choose to explore. And as with other experiences, the way we learn about freedom is to live through its opposite. In order to feel free, to really know freedom, we need to have experiences of feeling trapped, caged, and controlled.

Being trapped in situation after situation that makes you feel powerless and out of control, is a great set up for eventually becoming free. Whether it’s a job and finances, a health situation, or a relationship, we all experience moments when we feel trapped or out of control. And the more uncomfortable life becomes, the more we’re likely to change.

Many souls choose to incarnate with preplanned scenarios like challenging relationship dynamics that will give them experiences of loss of freedom, as did mine. My soul got together with a few other souls to make agreements that would play out in this lifetime, like who my parents would be. And a soul I’ve shared several other lifetimes with would play the part of my older brother.

The relationship triangle between me, my mother, and my older brother, was such that I struggled to feel free and to become independent. I lost my sense of power, self-esteem, and personal boundaries through verbal abuse and domineering behavior by my mother, and by domineering behavior echoed by my brother. As a child, I learned to squash my free will because when I tried to exert my independence, my mother verbally assaulted me. And my brother dominated and eventually sexually assaulted me.

Years of being violated and controlled left me anxious, angry, and with lots of memory loss. And with some coping mechanisms that weren’t so healthy. Thankfully, as well as making agreements to experience all sorts of painful things, my soul also designed my life’s potentials so I’d have a really good chance to have a spiritual awakening (or two) and discover healing work, which I did.

And it’s been through doing years of healing work that I’ve reclaimed self-empowerment, self-esteem, personal boundaries, and have healed emotional triggers of fear, anger, sadness, resentment, and more. It’s been through healing the past that I’ve become free from it. And through healing work that I’m finally on my way to becoming free from my sexual abuser.

Sharing one of my favorite songs because it’s almost my own personal Independence Day.

Owning Your Story

Inspired by a chat with my sister-friend and spiritual mentor, one of the biggest changes I’ve been experiencing, especially over this past year has been seeing my life through different lenses. My story is evolving with each and every healing session I have, and I’ve been averaging one a month. That’s a lot of healing. A lot of change.

We were talking about being able to own our story, to not feel compelled to tell the whitewashed version that’s socially acceptable. Of course we’re mindful when we share our stories of who our audience is – it’s not kind to traumatize someone.

Before I entered therapy in my late thirties, I never considered myself abused. That word wasn’t in my vocabulary. I knew my mother could be a royal bitch at times, and I knew my older brother molested me. But having done no healing, I blamed myself for making my mother get really pissed, and I blamed myself for not stopping my brother. Other than those things I had a pretty good life.

I grew up in a middle-class home with two parents, two brothers, pets, and room to run. I never had to worry about going without. We had home-cooked meals, went to good schools, participated in sports and music, and had a cottage on the ocean for our summer vacation. Being in a safe neighborhood in the suburbs there were other families around and plenty of kids to play with. I was bullied a little bit, but it wasn’t worse than my own mother. My best friend was just down the street, and I hung out with her at her house almost every day. It was a good life. At least, that’s mostly what I remembered.

I didn’t have many specific memories during my first decade or so of life until I started to use hypnosis to address emotional eating. Ever since I could remember, I was too fat. Food was always a focus, or should I say dieting. I was constantly on a diet.

After years of healing work, mostly working in hypnosis, bringing back forgotten memories while healing my inner child, I not only realized I’d been abused but began to know myself as divine.

One of my earliest healing sessions that first helped me understand what my inner child had been holding onto was called an Akashic Record healing session. The healer went psychically into the Akashic Records and brought back parts of me that had been left behind in childhood. It’s a form of soul retrieval. As she tuned into me, she picked up on my mother verbally attacking me, describing it as really sharp knife wounds. I’d blocked it all out until my teen years. I didn’t know she did this to me when I was little, but later on, in hypnosis sessions I saw it begin when I was just a toddler.

My mother verbally abused me. Today I can use these words without hesitation or shame, or becoming triggered into anger because of the healing I’ve done. She acted out her unhealed crap on me when she flipped into mania and became delusional and paranoid. That’s part of my story.

After growing up, going to college, and going out into the world of work, I carried a heavy mantle of shame for letting myself get molested and pregnant. For not being able to stop my brother. It was my deep dark secret. Becoming sexually active too young and wearing an invisible label of used goods, I went after any cute guy who paid attention to me. There was no saving myself for “the one”.

Fortunately, in my father, I had a role model of someone who took care of his family, who didn’t raise his voice and was never violent. He was a kind man. So the men I gravitated toward were kind. I never went for the bad boy. Although I was easy to get into bed, and for a while when I drank, I drank too much. The funny thing is, once I met my husband and we became an item I’ve never had eyes for anyone else. Not once. As much whoring around as I did before then. And that was twenty-five years ago.

When I was in my late thirties for the first time, I decided to see a therapist. I believe I saw her to help me figure out why I couldn’t seem to get a handle on my weight. I don’t quite remember. In any case, what I remember was for the first time in my life being shown my family through a different lens. A lens of family dysfunction. She was the first person who told me that what my brother did to me was completely unacceptable and it was absolutely not my fault. She was appalled that my brother was allowed to live under the same roof as me after he got me pregnant. That the only thing my father did was put a latch on my bedroom door and swear us all to secrecy.

For the first time in my life, I was a victim. A victim of sexual abuse. And it wasn’t my fault. For the first time in my life, I got angry at my brother. I got really mad. And the next time I had a chance to have a private conversation with him I asked him why he did it. He said he didn’t know it was wrong. And at the time I believed him. However, years later, after doing healing work I remember him threatening me to keep quiet. He damned well knew it was wrong.

Two years ago, the part of me who despite having been molested, still wanted a relationship with my older brother, became healed. All desire to continue our relationship vanished on the spot. No hate, no anger, no bitterness. Just mission complete. It wasn’t something I particularly intended, but it happened. I was done with him.

During the past year, I’ve been working on separating jointly inherited properties so we’ll no longer have to make any joint decisions. I need to be completely free from him. However, because he’s a sociopath and has his wife snowed, they’ve made this process as difficult and drawn out as possible. And because I’ve been having regular healing sessions, more and more memories have come back, letting me see my brother more completely. Letting me see more of his pattern of abusive behavior going back to when I was in a crib. As more and more of my inner world has become healed, I’ve been able to remember things spontaneously as well, putting more pieces of the bigger puzzle in place.

Bringing back forgotten pieces of my past, I see my life and relationships in another light. And because I’ve brought back what were traumatic memories through a healing process, shame, anger, sadness, fear and other painful and traumatic emotions have been set free.

Today my story is much like it was years ago, but so much more. I grew up with a good education and opportunities, and I was abused by two family members. I was a victim of child abuse in a suburban neighborhood where such things were kept tightly secret.

I’ll admit that because of the shame my parents lived with, it took until their deaths for me to really dig in and work on myself. To be able to speak freely about my past without worrying about them and their shame.

I’m able to talk about my mother’s mental illness, something she never talked about. And how it affected her, from verbally attacking me to her committing suicide. And I can talk about being bullied and abused by my sociopathic older brother for most of my first eighteen years. I can also talk about the daughter I gave up for adoption; the daughter I couldn’t claim in my heart until I was over forty.

The thing is, I’m no longer a victim. I’m healed and still healing. I’ll probably be working on myself until the day I die. But I’m no longer used goods, defective, or broken. I’m a divine being walking my way through life, who is currently working her way through a brutal Kundalini awakening process while surrounded by a massive spirit team. And as difficult as it’s being, I’m kicking ass and taking names.

More Self Sabotage

My inner world is warring. I want to eat myself into oblivion, yet I don’t want to. I can feel this part of my inner child screaming out in pain. She’s acting up and food is what’s calling me to quiet her. Loving myself by eating well means allowing her pain to swallow her up. At this point, her level of pain is such that any and all will power I have to eat well is gone.

She wants carbs and sweets, foods that boost feel-good chemicals. Foods that also jack my already too high blood sugar. Foods that only increase my already too high weight. Foods that I’ve been eating when I should be abstaining. That said, I’m doing better than I did even six months ago.

Sometimes my inner child’s pain is so great that food doesn’t really work. She fantasizes about ending it all in one fell swoop. To stop the never-ending pain. As much as there is fantasy and daydreaming about ending it all, that’s not an option for me.

Some people quell their inner pain with shopping. While others drink. I used to drink, and at times too much. Not these days though, as it does nothing for me. Some people have sex, while others use drugs of all sorts. Then there are people who’ve discovered things like exercise or thrill-seeking to get their high on.

For me, it’s always been food. It’s my drug of choice – the thing that helped me survive when I was only a toddler. The thing I thought I’d finally healed from and left behind almost three and a half years ago. Before the shift. Before Kundalini awoke and began her work on me, creating such massively deep healing. Healing that’s been reaching down into my basement.

Healing parts of my inner child who have been rising up from my inner sub-basement, where they were safely tucked away during childhood. Parts of my inner child who were shattered and scattered throughout my body, where she tucked herself here and there for safekeeping.

I thought all of this was healed and behind me. But Kundalini is actively pushing me. Forcing change I was very ok to live without. Or so I thought.

The thing is, all this change is moving me to create deep inner healing. It’s changing me, drawing me towards freedom, self-autonomy, and compassion. Compassion for myself and this tremendous struggle.

My inner world feels like a pressure cooker. It knows I’m having a healing session in just a few days. It knows safe reconnection will happen. I can tell because my head is a giant fog bank. When I wake up from the night’s sleep, even though I know I’m awake, a large part of me isn’t here. It feels like I can’t really fully wake up. I’m not all here and I know it. Food helps ground me.

My inner child is still waiting to know that the man who molested her has finally granted her freedom. He still wields power over her. He still lords over her, holding her hostage. Another part from my childhood is ready to be free, even if it’s me who sets her free.

And right now, she’s fucking miserable. I have such deep and abiding love and compassion and appreciation for her. For this inner child who did what she could so I could be here today to go back and help set her free. My healing and sense of freedom are not dependent on my perpetrator. He’s merely a trigger.


The Cost of Freedom

When I first ventured into hypnotherapy, it was all about trying to lose weight and keep it off. What I never expected was to see events in my past that I’d long ago forgotten. Painful events that triggered me to eat. Food was and still is my balm. But doing healing work has dissolved lifetimes of emotional triggers.

One of the protective qualities of our brains is its ability to forget, to block out trauma and painful events. Especially when we’re young. Before using hypnosis, most of my childhood memories kicked in around the age of 13 or so. I barely remembered anything before then.

And this explains a lot of why it took so long for me to see myself as a victim of abuse. I didn’t remember the early years when it first began. I knew my mother could sometimes be a real bitch towards me, and I knew my older brother got me pregnant when I was 14, but because of the protective mechanism of my brain, I blamed myself for getting pregnant. I blamed myself for not being able to fend off my brother. And I never realized my mother’s verbal abuse of me went back to my youngest years.

Then came hypnotherapy. It changed everything. So did working with a “regular” therapist for several months. Working with the therapist helped me understand that I’d been a victim of abuse. For the first time in my life, when I was almost forty, I owned the label victim.

Using hypnotherapy to heal buckets of emotional triggers, the process brought back lots of forgotten memories. Memories that were held in the past by pain. The beauty of the process is being able to see traumatic events from the past without becoming re-traumatized. In fact, I was walked through steps that dissolved the painful emotions. I can now remember events without any emotional charge on them.

Along the way, I healed all shame and blame.

In the past few years, I’ve finally been able to see a pattern of abusive and predatory behavior my brother perpetrated upon me beginning when I was in the crib, only ending when I was about eighteen, when he was in college got a steady girlfriend (who he ended up marrying).

Part of extremely deep healing facilitated by Kundalini energy healed me of all desire to be forced to have a relationship with the man who molested me. My older brother. He no longer feels like my brother, like family. The feelings of attachment were dissolved. And I refuse to be bound to him any longer.

Part of reclaiming my sovereignty, my life, has happened through healing, and then there’s being able to tell my story. Most of the people I grew up with, who knew my parents and family or who I went to school with have no clue about this part of my life, about the extreme dysfunction in our home because I hid it for decades. I’ve told approximately three people who know not only me but my family. However, I’ve told a number of people I’ve met since being on my healing journey; mostly people in the realm of energy healing, and a few close friends I have where I now live.

The thing about telling a story about trauma is it can be very difficult to hear. Those who are not healers or therapists and who haven’t worked on themselves can’t hear my story without becoming upset. And if I tell someone who really cares for me, just hearing my story is shocking and traumatic. So I’m very selective about sharing it.

My younger brother, who was at boarding school during the bulk of my being molested, never knew about it. He never knew I became pregnant, had a baby, or gave it up for adoption. After our parents died, about six years ago when I was spending time in our family’s summer cottage with younger brother’s family, I told him I had something I needed to tell him about our past. Something I didn’t want the kids to hear.

He thought it was something about our mentally ill mother. And when I told him and his wife what our older brother did, they were shocked. Completely stunned. My younger brother’s world flipped upside down. His reality cracked open as puzzle pieces shifted. For his wife, some things she’d found confusing suddenly made sense. He’s still processing it.

When I realized my older brother was never a brother and I needed to separate from him, I had an idea of how to go about it. When our parents died, three of us inherited 2 properties. All I had to do was give my part of one property to my brother, and he’d give me his part of the other. We’d never have to talk joint ownership and all that goes with it, ever again. I’d never have to deal with someone who never answers my texts and who takes an average of three or more weeks to reply to a simple email. And I’d never have to have stilted and uncomfortable phone calls. (I get along well with my younger brother, so it’s never been an issue). I knew the idea might be a little bit difficult to swallow at first, but I hoped that in time, my older brother and his wife would come around to seeing things the way I did.

Last summer, traveling once again to the family cottage, with the older brother and his wife staying the weekend a few doors down, they popped over for what they thought would be a family reunion of sorts. Because we all live far apart, the cottage is a place we share. Because I know my older brother still doesn’t really understand the full extent of how damaging our relationship has been and how much work I’ve had to do to get to where I am, I broached the topic of needing to swap properties so I could be separated from him, with his wife. Back in our twenties, we were close, and because she found out years prior that I’d been raped by him, I thought she’d processed it and would be able to have compassion for my position.

Boy was I in for a surprise. She hadn’t processed a damned thing.

What I never expected, in my ignorance, was for my older brother’s wife to be so completely unable to even begin to imagine her husband as a rapist. In order for her to rationalize staying with a man who terrorized me, raped me, bullied me, and is still bullying me, she’s had to take sides, and it’s not mine. She’s chosen her meal ticket.

Because the perpetrator’s wife has decided my brother has some sort of say in my separating from him, I’ve been forced to seek counsel from an attorney. Fortunately, my attorney assures me that both criminal and civil law are on my side. And I have an excellent case.

What I thought would be a straight forward process of a few signatures on a few pieces of paper that would effectively separate me from having to deal with my abuser, has become legal action. Action I never wanted to take.

But healing means having power back. Power that was stolen from me in part by my brother’s abusive actions. It means I will not roll over and be bullied. And because my predator won’t listen to me, now he has to listen to my attorney.

If my brother had acknowledged his atrocious behavior and had signed the paperwork separating us as soon as he got it, without question, we might have been able to have some sort of relationship. But as soon as he and his wife decided to fight me, making my life a living hell, blocking me on social media and forcing me to find an attorney to review a (ridiculous) release of liability they wanted me to sign, they drew a line in the sand. They created sides.

I’m done with both of them.

And as soon as the predator responds to paperwork my attorney sent him (he has a time limit ending mid-week this week), my freedom should be imminent. Although he’s proven to be very stubborn and stupid, so I’m expecting a bit of a fight.

He should consider himself lucky that his impregnating me didn’t happen in this day and age of mandatory reporting. He should be grateful our father didn’t kick him out of the house and disown him when it was found out. He should be grateful that I’m not pressing criminal charges of rape of a child, which I have the legal right to do, and that I’m not outright suing him in civil court, which I’d win hands down. I’m not outing him to his employer or to his friends, and his wife and her family are sticking by his side.

My relationship with my older brother is done. And his wife too. Sadly. But bullies will be bullies and I’m not taking any more shit.

The cost of my freedom is half my family. One of my two brothers and one sister-in-law. At this stage in my life, I can live with it. My heart will eventually find peace.

Eating Again

I’m eating again. Eating my emotions. I’m trying to have compassion instead of being hard on myself. Understanding that right now I’m experiencing some of the biggest stress of my life. The moment I’m standing fast in my power. Demanding complete independence from the older brother who dominated and molested me when we were growing up. The older brother who was never a brother.

It’s taken years of working on myself to see that despite healing and letting go of all sorts of pain from my past, there have been parts of my inner world that still needed to be addressed, and likely will for a while yet. In the last few healing sessions what’s come up have been parts of me from when I was a little girl, who were still in pain because of how my brother treated me.

I now see that our relationship was never healthy. Never. I chased him, looking for approval and acceptance, yet he kept treating me badly. And I ran back for more. My young mind reasoned that if I just did what he wanted, if I pleased him, he’d suddenly change and be nice to me. He was and still is self-serving and will never in his lifetime understand what he did. The depth of his depravity.

What I’m learning is how his twisted and impotent brain works. How his chronic need for external validation leaves him a shell of a human being.

The process of separating from him, that began last July, should have been a few months long. But he’s dragged it out and dragged it out, putting conditions and demands on the separation that are ridiculous. As a rapist, he doesn’t have a leg to stand on and thinks he can dictate to me. Because he was stupid enough to send me a document that needed to be reviewed by an attorney, I got one. And now my brother’s in for a shock. The law is clearly on my side. And there’s a clock on his response. Hopefully, he’ll finally sign a few bits of paper that will separate us and we can be finished soon.

That said, I’m almost a week past my most recent healing session and my inner world is hard at work integrating the deep inner shift. My DNA is working on expressing itself differently, which is very tiring, and thoughts are rewiring, leaving me easily triggered and foggy. I remind myself it’s temporary.

Our country is emotionally on fire with protests and riots because of George Floyd’s recent death by police. My attorney just sent my brother a letter with my demands, and he’s very likely shitting his pants. We’re almost at the end of our school year here at home and my son is beyond ready to be done (as am I), and I’m eating. Too many carbs. Old habits using food to help me feel grounded. It’s my albatross.

I know there’s part of my inner child who won’t feel safe to come up and be set free until in the eyes of the law I’ll no longer be required to have contact with my older brother again.

I hate that he fought me, backing me into a corner. It would have been so much smoother, and I might have kept my relationship with his wife if they hadn’t fought me. The relationship would have naturally ended because he and I never talked. The only reason we talked since our parents’ deaths was because of family business that forced us to communicate. With all family business concluded or separated, our relationship would have faded with the wind.

But I wouldn’t roller over and be dominated one last time.

And I’m eating.

For now.

Healing Value

After my last healing session, the one where part of my inner child came back, I felt strong, empowered, and had energy and clarity like I hadn’t had in months. For almost a week it stayed with me. Until it didn’t. I don’t know what flipped the switch, but it probably had to do with my inner world shifting and changing, or my physical body changing to meet my new energetic template. I honestly don’t know. Might have been a bit of both.

The part of me who was ready to be addressed was the little girl in me who was raped for the first time. She knew it was wrong and to be able to cope with it she labeled herself as Used Goods. I’ve addressed a part of me who carried this same belief and healed her a number of years ago. But our consciousness exists at different levels. When this belief came up before, I associated it with when I’d given birth to a product of incest, out of wedlock. This time, the association was slightly different. Over the course of my awakening that started over three years ago, I’m revisiting things previously healed, but at my new level of consciousness.

This time, when my inner child spoke she carried blame for having just been raped by her brother, yet instantly recognized it wasn’t her fault. She reached the point of not being able to go on, and when my adult self tried to offer her help she put up a hand telling me not yet. There was more that needed to be seen and heard.

When I wondered what it was, a monster appeared looking like a dragon that was completely black. The monster grabbed my inner child by the wrist and pulled her, trying to take her away. She cried and cried, bawling that the monster was trying to steal her soul. She fought with all her might but couldn’t escape it. The monster represented my brother.

Finally, as the monster tried to take her away, we asked if it was time to bring in help. Yes. With this part of me in a tug of war for her soul, we asked for someone of the highest divine energy to come help her. Archangel Michael showed up looking pure gold, wielding his massive broadblade sword. Immediately, he sliced through the monster’s arm, setting my inner child free.

But the monster’s ugly black claw of a hand wouldn’t let go of her wrist. Try as she may, she couldn’t pry the claws from her wrist. Then an idea popped into her head! She asked Michael if she could borrow his sword to pry it off, and the moment she grasped the hilt of the sword, she completely transformed.

No longer a child, I saw a woman standing about ten feet tall, wearing robes much like those of Archangel Michael, and was pure gold. The energy she carried was pure divine strength. And her self-value grew to match her divinity. Noticing the black claws on her wrist, she gave her wrist a quick shake, sending the monster’s hand flying. She took the sword and hacked and chopped the monster to bits.

No longer Used Goods, this part of me stood tall and proud and looking over to Archangel Michael noticed he was still holding a sword. With a release of tears, she suddenly realized her value, as symbolized by her sword, was hers all along. Archangel Michael hadn’t given her his sword, he’d given her back her own. She’d only temporarily forgotten her value and strength.

It was a tremendous and very intense session, leaving me not only tired but holding a sense of my own value that is beyond money.

Because of being in the midst of dealings with the brother who molested me, I’m not at all surprised this part of my inner child came up to be healed. This is how I work. Whatever is most up in my grill at the moment is what’s ready to be addressed and healed.

So many of us have experiences in childhood that essentially rob us of our sense of value, our self worth. And a person doesn’t have to be abused. Going through anything that attaches feelings of shame will do it. The beauty of healing is it changes you from the inside out. Lets go of the inner critic and allows the divine self to flow through more and more, bringing strength and inner peace.