No Child is Born Bad
Trauma as a Child
The fuzzy haired old man Frank that molested me six days a week for two years, had two wives who helped him run a sex traffic business. They ran it through a babysitting company. At six, my mom and I moved very far away from Frank, this made me happy. At this time, my hair was much longer, and still very blonde. I always wore overalls and a cute shirt with my light up shoes. My mom liked to put my hair in pigtails and put little bows in my hair.
When I turned ten-years-old, I only wore dresses. I would wear all kinds of pretty dresses, with all kinds of beautiful fabric. I grew up very girly, fully bracing my feminine side. I thought I safe now. So getting raped at the age of 13 changed me. Having someone rip something so precious to me, absolutely broke my soul. It broke me from inside …out. I had just committed to a life of purity, not long before I got raped. The rose petals of purity all got ripped off of the vine for me. Stolen like candy from a baby.
Writing as Healing
I really love writing, it has been my passion since I was young. Throughout the years, I’ve countinued in my passion as I’ve had my grandmother to look up to. She has been writing since I was 8 or so, from what I can remember. She was telling me about a book she wanted to write and she let me help her. I helped with little concepts like hair color, eye color, skin, height and weight. And I helped her with various details throughout the process. My grandmother’s book was published and has gone on to be part of a best-selling series.
I’ve had her to look up to, and she’s truly inspired me to push forward in my writing. She would challenge me to little tests, such as describing something vividly or writing a paragraph about the ocean. Simple yet complex challenges, which helped both of us discover many literary techniques. I love her to death, she’s always been my best friend. She’s actually the one who told me about this website. She told me how it can help me get out things that I don’t feel like talking about, but need to be released from. I’ve been using this website ever since. I love writing and now I use it as a mental health tool to help with my past traumas. The creator of this website is my grandmothers publisher…he is a great man who has created a wonderful place for people to come and get out their inner demons …in a beautiful literary way. I absolutely would recommend this site, 100%. And it’s super easy to use. Olivia, 17
Removing Chains of Child Abuse
The short stories, art and poetry collected in Removing Chains Child of Abuse are from survivors of human trafficking, child abuse and bullying from around the world.
“The collective voices of this anthology rise up as a rightful specter over the insidious realities of child abuse in all its forms. Thank you to its authors for finding the courage to speak to child abuse’s immediate and long-lasting effects. Whether you are a similar victim – or not – the take-away from this worthy effort is one of great emotion and necessary education. Only through the later, can we cause change. A must read…” –Kindle EditionVerified Purchase
Deep down, do you like helping people? Me too.
The writing program has been effective in schools, churches, Boys & Girls Club, and various other organizations. The impact is the same everywhere we go: many begin the healing process from whatever pain they’re feeling inside. They stop cutting, selling drugs, being promiscuous, bullying, and most importantly, they develop a love of writing to help them process all of their experiences in a healthy way.
Writing for the Soul Workshop™ is a sponsored project of Fractured Atlas, a non‐profit arts service organization. Contributions for the charitable purposes of Writing for the Soul Workshop™ are tax‐deductible to the extent permitted by law. Who knows. Your donation could be the one that help us to prevent another teen suicide. Click here to make a secure online donation.
One thought on “I’m a survivor, and here’s my story.”
God bless you Olivia your an inspiration. Keep up the great work.
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