Can You Hear My Pain…

It’s sometimes puzzling how life events can happen and alter someone’s life. With every experience is a lesson, even the ones we can’t quite understand. There are many people dealing with baggage from the past that will very well affect their ability to heal while in the process to move forward. How do they cope? They pack all the unhealthy issues into one bag, which over time; doubles and triples until the seams unravel leaving them threads of pain, guilt, shame and loneliness; But how does one recover when tragedy strikes in their adolescent years. When you’re impressionable, confused and unsure about what’s right or wrong. I have a touching story of a girl that reaches out in one single cry for help; to anyone that will listen. Here is her journey for escape:

Nice and clean in her pleated skirt, cotton shirt and ankle socks folded neatly against her ankles; an 8 year old little girl plays in the basement of her friends house. Dolls lined the floor along with many other toys of choice for their day of adventure. Countless days were spent just as this one, nothing different or unordinary played a part on what was soon to come. They stripped the dolls and changed them amongst the array of doll clothes. In one instance the girl looked down and said, “sometimes he touches me there and sometimes it hurts”. Astonished by the words that just filled the air, the friend sat blank pondering what was just said so innocently from the little girl's mouth. Being just 3 years older, the friend knew that something was wrong with that statement. The friend says, “who touches you there and what hurts”. “Don’t you have play time with your daddy, the little girl said?

With a blink of an eye the friend was up the stairs sharing this testament with her mom. The little girl stood there with a racing heartbeat and sweaty palms. The friend’s mother looked with concern as tears formed her eyes with amazement as to what her ears would hear next. The little girl stood there with all the innocence of a child and whispered; Daddy touches me down there and sometimes it hurt. As soon as the words left the little girl's mouth, the friend’s mother hobbled forward and began to weep for the child’s hidden pain. The little girl thought certainly that she was killing this poor lady with her outspoken secret. The mother held the little girl in her arms like she was her own child, while tears filled her face and she began to pray.

There are many just like this little girl hiding in fear, chained in guilt and buried in baggage. The road will be long and hard but survivors should know that their pain shouldn’t be their burden any longer. That your past hurts shouldn’t determine your future. Through adversity comes joy when you have faith in a God so believing in a vessel he created as YOU. I had to learn and build that into the fibers that created this person today. That little girl isn’t some random fictional character or the girl down the street or someone that I interviewed…..That little girl was ME… This is my story …I’m a Survivor and I AM JUST ONE and there are many JUST LIKE ME.


I Am One

I don’t sit alone in this cold lonely world
There are many touched just like me
We all face the same fate
Of recovery from self hate
And shame that they dealt
Upon the little one’s they felt

I Am One
Healing the wounds would hurt just as much
To forget the images of his touch
Locking the door would not keep me safe
But saying my prayers would keep me a saint

I Am One
The images won’t leave and haunts me by eve
Will anyone help this little child please
God has me near so I’ll trust in his sight
To get me through another day’s night
Cause I’m trapped in fear and the memories are still near

I Am One
The step-daddies I fear
Even though I’m his sweet dear
So keep me safe and clear
So I won’t be touched again down near

I Am One
There are plenty just like me
And silent they shall be
Sheltering the pain that was caused
From the innocence that was lost

I …Am… One…

By: LaSha Overstreet-Anderson


Stay tuned..Buffering The Pain; Life As a Touched Child by LaSha Dawson-Anderson