To the #metoo Mama

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By now y’all have seen the #metoo hashtag circling the internet. If you haven’t yet, just take a few seconds to Google it.

There are a lot of things that could be said about this. I could easily use my time to debate the issue, where it stems from, how to fix it, etc., but I’m not.

Why?

Because behind all the debate, the trend, the anger, and the media, there are hurting people out there … still suffering … still living with the aftermath … still reliving the horror, the fear, and the shame of the abuse they’ve endured.

So while the media plays its game and the storm encircles our nation bringing light (and dark!) to a very real, very publicized, yet very secret issue, I want to take a minute and acknowledge someone that even in the light of it all still sits quietly enduring something that no one else can fix or see.

You.

I see you, mama.

I see the pain you’ve endured.

I see the unwanted, unyielding metamorphosis that has taken place in your heart.

I see how the abuse you’ve suffered (maybe as a child, maybe as a teen, maybe as an adult) has taken a part of you and changed it into something you never wanted.

I see how the beauty of your God-given sexuality has been turned into a weapon against you, making it something you now find fearful, shameful, and ugly.

I see the suffering you endure in your heart day after day as you try to navigate relationships or marriage from a place of pain.

I see the struggle behind closed doors as you try so hard to disconnect the past from the present so you can enjoy the relationship you have right now, only to find yourself staring down the barrel of that proverbial gun again and again with every intimate moment.

I see how intimacy isn’t something you look forward to, but rather something you fear.

I see how you struggle to view intimacy as a gift when it feels like such a curse.

I see the pain every time you feel emotionally and physically inadequate for your spouse.

I see you, mama — through the pain, the hurt, the unwanted publicity, the exposure, the suffering.

You are not alone.

You are beautiful. You are adequate. You are normal, yet SO unique. You are important. You are justified. You are blameless. You are pure.

And mama, I value you.

You are a treasure to all who love you. You make the world brighter just by being you.

I don’t know you. I don’t know your story. I don’t know what you’re struggling with today or even right this moment.

But I am you.

Because #metoo.