Hello beautiful souls. Thank you for this space to freely express. I also believe that writing is a healing journey, it has always helped me, among other healing therapies like psychologists to get the visual images out, energy healing to get all the dark emotions out, and a lot of writing to get the pain out. Along with active fitness and Yoga practice.
When I was five years old my family and I would always drive to Italy on holidays to visit my grandparents. I was always a super happy girl, having everything I needed and going to see my grandparents was very exciting because they had a house and garden, a lot of space to play. Like I don’t remember bad things happening. Until I was older and understood that there was something bad happening.
My granddad would take naps after lunch, and someone from the family including me sometimes would go wake him up. When I went to wake him up, I would tell my mum or dad, hey I’m gonna go wake up Nonno. Going into the bedroom, waking him up was something I should have not done at that age. He took his time to sexually pleasure himself. I remember clearly that he told me to keep it a secret and I did. I remember he did that a few times with me and I never said a word to anyone. When I was fourteen years old I said to my best friend that my Nonno touched me and that I think that was disgusting. But my friend also being fourteen she didn’t know what to do with that information so we just talked about it. I was suffering from having nightmares every single night. In each nightmare, I was chased by different men with knives trying to kill me, but I was always running away and able to fly away in each dream. Almost every single night I had that dream for years. I was scared of sleeping. Couldn’t focus in school, I was the noisy girl in school distracting my friends. I felt angry with the whole world and I couldn’t understand why.
When I was at home I would often write in my journal until my finger hurt. I felt like there was something wrong with me. This internal feeling of wanting to scream, or even escape me, crawl out of my own skin. My friends didn’t know this part about me, I kept the pain inside because I was told to keep it a secret. With the age of fourteen, I told my parents I wanted to leave home. I was done with school, I was done with feeling so horrible inside and I wanted to go somewhere else. But they said I was too young. I waited another three years and my wish to leave home became stronger than ever. My parents took my wish very serious and knew that they had to trust me so I got to fly to New Zealand with the age of seventeen years old all by myself, to go to an English school.
My heart felt different. I was so excited to be there, finally not surrounded by the same people anymore, feeling that I was able to make a difference and I learned so much about myself. This was the first time I started to understand completely that what had happened to me when I was five was not normal. My little understanding of myself made it hard for me to cope with the stress I was having about knowing that I was sexually abused. It felt like a huge part of me died inside. After eight months of being in New Zealand still not knowing what to do with myself I went back home to my parents. I remember they picked me up from the airport and my heart was at the tip of my tongue in the car ride back home. I swear to god I could have screamed it out loud right then and there! But I kept quiet. At home two minutes back in my room I sat on my bed and started crying. Like a waterfall. My parents thought it was because I was happy to be back home crying but then what I said shook up the world for everyone. I told them that Nonno had sexually abused me when I was five up until the age of nine years old. I said I am sorry, I feel horrible, crying, it was so crazy intense I just had no idea what was going on, but all these years I had kept this heavy horrible secret and finally, it was out. My parents hugged me and reassured that I was not doing anything wrong and that they are gonna help me. My mum organised a psychologist for me which I kinda hated going to because I had to talk about what I was told not to talk about and that was confusing and it was gross. I didn’t wanna talk about the pictures in my head. I was still living a normal life next to all this chaos and hurt. I was hating this confusion, I was not able to understand these big feelings. I was in a dark place mentally. I was not enjoying work and I didn’t want to talk to anybody really. But Life forced me to be social. I still thought something terrible was wrong with me. The bad dreams hunted me still. I actually thought there were no other dreams that could be dreamed. The therapy with the psychologist lasted for about a year I think. This part is a bit faded.
I remember just wanting to go back to New Zealand because to me it felt like a safe place and I was happy to try and live on my own, do my own thing etc. I had a drive within, a desire to explore, a big curiosity and I straight up fell in love with the thought that I was living so far away from home in a beautiful country. I called my home. I continued my healing journey in New Zealand with women shelter support communities. But I remember also a huge part of me just wanted to focus on life and all the good things. So I started travelling, became a bit of a nomad with all the ups and downs. Up until now. I am 34 years old and doing a lot of reflection because of the pain I had suffered kept on showing up. I learned a lot about myself. I went very very deep into getting to know my dark side. Facing my anger and healing it. Facing my big emotions and healing them because I finally understand where they come from. Often my relationships would suffer because of my insecurities, although I must say I never wanted to play the victim, as a teenager I read a lot of books about abuse and how a lot of girls would stay stuck in the victim role, I felt more like a warrior and accepter of things. Even though I didn’t understand the things.
My healing journey became important to me again after a very bad break up while I was travelling last year with someone who was close to me and broke up with me in the middle of travelling. That’s when my world started to crumble harder than I could really understand why. But it hit me. All my pain came up. I thought I was gonna have a heart attack. It was as if I felt like I was lying to myself and I kept reassuring myself that I had dealt with the pain, so it couldn’t have been from the past because I had forgiven Nonno for what he did. And I had done all the things accordingly to healing myself. It was real. The pain was there. I had no choice but to face it. Knowing myself much better led me to a deeper healing process. I made appointments with a masseuse. I understood that my body was storing all my emotions and I had to release them. Let go of the shit. Raw, intense, dark, heavy, nasty shit. I went to energy healing. I did countless visualisation meditations to reach my inner child and connect with my inner child to heal it. And my journey let me to Yoga, which helped me through understanding my deepest part better and to fill it up with light.
I made myself a promise. My life was never gonna be suffering again. I will do whatever it takes to get rid of all this pain. Here I am now. Facing my reality, writing my story, feeling less pain. I can write about the dreams I have now. Colourful, loving, kind, sweet dreams, I even laugh in my dreams now, I have visions. I love going to sleep now. I don’t need to be scared anymore. I feel like I have been through hell, I feel like I have seen the devil which I got tired of now. I connect with people I have met on my Yoga journey, letting them into my story, sharing my biggest fears, pains and all that comes with it. Each time it helps me to let go, more and more. I never would have thought I would come to this point. It feels right to share a short version of my story here. I hope it reaches hurting hearts, healing hearts and know that you are loved.