We visit this blog from all walks of life. We each appear different, perceive and pursue life uniquely, and ultimately, through choice or fate, end up where we are now. While basic survival dictates our immediate goal, our dreams, our desires and determination to achieve them dictate our options. Unfortunately without necessary means, our choices dwindle. Life depends upon our ability to find basics like shelter and sustenance. We need some sort of income to fulfill these basic needs. Sometimes our only choice is to work in any job we find.

With many types of employment there are restrictions and requirements. Various positions dictate whether we wear hospital scrubs, mechanic coveralls, chef uniforms, business attire, or everyday, regular innocuous clothing. There are as many jobs as there are options for how we assume our roles. Most interestingly, however, what your job title entails may tell nothing about the soul living deep within you. A soul that has a job of its own, and a job description that, if visible to us all, would remain unfulfilled. Permanently. Sadly, no salary would suffice to live the life of a soul that has been twisted and tormented.

How do you grasp that the lady who worked behind the market deli counter was raised by an alcoholic father who beat her mercilessly from her early childhood until the day he died? She went on to marry a man who, just like her father, daily drank himself into rages that ended with his fist in her face. She ended up in a coma after the last time he outdid himself and pounded her to a pulp. Upon awakening she realized there were others who care, others who would shelter her from this vicious villain who used her to satiate his sick need to substitute her for his own abusive father. Every punch he received from his own angry step-dad morphed into a sickening stab that sliced into her oozing soul. If hope were blood, she'd have bled out long ago.

How do you even process the child raised by a drug-addicted mother who prostituted herself by night to feed herself, her daughter and her drug habit? They lived in their filthy, trash-laden car, which was mostly parked in a vacant lot; it hardly ran, and if luck was on their side, and it would start, it never had gas to go anywhere anyway. Where is this little girl now? She's an amazing, happily married mother of two teen-aged girls, and a sexual assault nurse with advanced nursing degrees. She's the same nurse who mentors hundreds in law enforcement and health care, and especially, anyone who will listen. Together those she mentors are successful in finding human traffickers, and freeing children and adults who are trafficked. The lives this woman has changed, both for the abusers now incarcerated, and those who have been abused is insurmountable and to be commended. She, however remains humble, focused, driven and is nothing short of an angel with no wings. Why no wings? She needs none; her persistence and passion spread well-beyond her physical presence. Many, many are touched by the magnificence of her heart.

How do you not want to dry the nightly-shed tears of the sweet little 5 year-old who was daily reminded that she was "a mistake that was to be aborted, but wasn't because she might have been the boy they [her parents] long hoped for." How do you not want to hold her as she cried herself to sleep, knowing she was the emotional punching bag for a mother who had Borderline Personality Disorder, and a father who was Child Psychiatrist who neither sought treatment for his wife, nor protected his daughter from her? One by one, they isolated her from anyone who she could turn to for help. She hid her abuse from classmates and teachers, but still, people knew there was something in her life gone awry. This sweet little bud was crushed so often and so severely that she tried to end her life three times. All she wanted was to be valued and loved by her parents. What happened to her? She was adored and cherished by her 5 children and the amazingly loving husband who faced the prospect of raising these children without her. She wondered how she could love her own children when her own mother could not love her. Today, these children all have college degrees, professions, and are making a difference in this world. This emotionally abused child? I am here to tell you- I and my husband are blissfully happy, thank you! I work in the medical profession, and am author of a memoir based on a pact I made, that was fulfilled beyond my wildest dreams. Like those whose lives I described above, as well as most victims of abuse, I will always bear the scars of my abuse. I choose to neither forget nor forgive my abusers. Forgiving them would render me susceptible to abuse from them or others. Their abuse is not, and never will be okay! Forgetting their abuse would potentially also make me forget the pain that they perpetuated time and time again. This would only serve to prevent me from using this pain to help others through theirs. Yes- as many others do, I use my pain to help others to go from victim to survivor. Those who become survivors can pay it forward, using their pain to reach others, and enable them, too, to heal hearts... those very hearts we often wear on our sleeves.

Who would think that the clothing we wear has no bearing on our real purpose? Our outerwear disguises the inner potential within us to change lives. Our own torn, tattered souls we revive, restore, and rebuild are the impetus to seek and find those who are still swallowed up by their abuser; with a voracious, overwhelming appetite for misplaced revenge upon their own perpetrator.

I now ask you this; does your clothing restrict your own limit to love? Does the fabric disguise the innate beauty in your soul? Do the tightly woven threads form a loose garment that gathers refuse from the floor, and trips you with every step you take?

I believe that the time is now to find a safe place to expose the beauty inherent within the confines of the core of your being. Your life can be a changing room; you have the choice to try on different outfits and determine which ones will let your soul shine instead of concealing it within a dark place where it can hide, forever silenced and rendered lifeless. For you, I would choose something colorful, playful, and beautiful- like your awesome, healing soul. We don't need bandaids for our wounds. We need and deserve validation, love and hope.

Today, via this blog post, we will celebrate YOU! I will provide the hope, and you can invite all of your friends, because I believe in your ability to empower them to see their potential to heal. We heal ourselves as we reach out to help others. Come as you are, because to me you ARE beautiful, no matter you wear.

Never forget or forgive those who inadvertently, through their abuse, brought you here today. They are our impetus. There but for the grace of God go WE!

It all began with a sweet pact I made with Him, and He certainly did deliver!