One of the hardest chapters for me to write was about what happened in a blue Volvo when I was about 5.
It’s one of those #metoo stories I never told.
Buried in my subconscious, it first raise it’s ugly head, when in my teens, my boyfriend and I played at having sex.
When authors talk about it taking a year, or more, to write a book, they’re not wrong, For it’s stories like these that slows us down.
I battled and struggled to find the words, in the end I followed the fluffy white rabbit down the research hole. I needed help to get started, to set the scene, and I spent the next few days surfing old car magazines. With images and a video of exactly what it looked like, it was easier to bringing my 5 year-old self back into the space where the bad thing took place.
Still, I struggled to find the words. 45 years later, it’s not revenge that I want, it’s finding compassion, and understanding for how it could happen, and the effect it had, on my life much later. After many more days staring at the blank page, I shut down my computer. With a scruffy old notebook and a soft comfy blanket, I settled in front of the telly, with Californiacation. As the humorous sex scenes flickered on the screen, I finally found courage and words to crawl down that oh so important, shitty first draft.
I write this to remember ‘there’s always another way.’ When I wrestle in pain or shame, to get to the truth of the hard parts of my past.
Love and Light
I’d love to keep in touch, don’t you? Pop your details in below and every few weeks, or so, I’ll send you my musings on writing, life and #TRUTH hunting.