Defining Moments

THE HEARING WORLD
July 7, 1980. I am strapped to a green chair in the kitchen of Kendra’s uncle and grandmother. My feet are in a tub of water, chained as a criminal. My body is tired from the electrical shocks that Kendra has been giving me. Kendra walks back to me and places the cattle prod at my neck turning it on. I scream in agony as the surges of electricity go through my body, breathing heavier. The water that my feet are in acts like a conduit for the electricity. The pain is so intense that I feel like my heart is going to burst. I barely look up and see Don entering the kitchen. Don is 60 years old, wrinkled, skinny like a bean pole of a man. He was Kendra’s uncle. He has black peppered hair. He was a master in executing pain to children particulary while they were awake. He had a quiet demeanor except when it came to torturing his victims. His eyes didn’t seem to have color. I always remembered them as black. He looks at Kendra.

“Enough, we need her for tomorrow nights ceremony.”

Kendra knew not to defy Don for he was the brother of her mother, Fran, the matriarch of the family. His reports would were invaluable. One wrong move and Fran would order a hit on her own daughter, Kendra.

“Whatever, I have a present for her birthday.” Kendra responded.

Don looked at her.

“Keep her alive. Men are not like Jonathon that like to stick their dick into dead bodies.”

Jonathon was Kendra’s father, and Fran’s husband.

“Understood,” Kendra replied.

Kendra reaches for a box, a pair of tweezers pulling up a chair next to my side. Don looks at Kendra.

“Clever,” Don states admiring what Kendra was about to do.

“Just hold the bitch,” Kendra states.

Don suddenly holds my head as Kendra takes the pair of tweezers and places a live cockroach in both of my ears. I feel the roaches crawl inside my ears. I could not move because I was strapped down to the chair. I scream as I felt the cock roach crawl around inside my ear. Kendra grabs the horse whip cracking it across my face to silence my cries. I wanted the pain to end. A part of me wanted to die. Kendra reaces once again for the tweezers. This time Kendra punctured my ear drums as she was digging for the cockroachs that she had placed in my ears. Blood starts coming from my ears. I heard a pop inside my ears as the blood ran down my ears.

Kendra laughs as I was screaming. Kendra once again grabs the horse whip contining to crack it against my face when Don grabs the horse whip and said something to Kendra. Something was wrong. I couldn’t hear anything. I thought what has she done to me. Everything was muffled. The sounds I once heard were gone. Things just got worse.

I was deaf for six months. I was sent to a deaf school. The teachers asked Kendra how I lost my hearing. Kendra told them that there was an accident and I was injured while falling out of a tree. They believed her because she was a teacher. I was taught sign language as a way to communicate to the other children. I was at loss with this disability. I could understand how to deal with being buried alive. I could deal with the rapes that were happening. The loss of hearing was new. This put me at a disadvantage against Kendra. I could not hear when Kendra was coming to torture me or when Kendra was behind me with a whip ready to beat me. Kendra now had the advantage over me. This was not a good thing.

My hearing only partially came back. The beatings that I had received amplied the loss of hearing. In adulthood, I could not hear behind me. I was tone deaf with a hearing loss of 60% and I had vertigo. I was given medication for the vertigo. I would get nausea. The medication for the vertigo made me sick to the stomach and worsened the conditions. I learned how to hear by reading peoples lips and from dance. Dance taught me how to feel the vibrations in the floor.

Saundra and Lucky had mentioned to me a program that helped people with hearing disabilities. I went to them and was diagnosed with severe hearing loss. The doctor said that my vertigo was a direct result of either menieres disease or a crack in the inner ear drum. She believed I had a crack in the inner ear drum due to the beatings that I had sustained and the incident with the roaches. Certain noises gave me headaches and I wanted to pass out from the noise. The doctor believed that I needed to go and receive a cat scan.

The day that I received the hearing aides was a gift of god. For the first time in my life I could hear everything so clearly. I never knew that the wind howled. I heard the turn signal in a car blink. I heard the rain make an echo when it dropped on the ground. I walked on my floor and I heard my footsteps produce an echo. It took two months to adjust to all the new sounds. It was so amazing. I felt like a woman with a new life. I was going and making noise on purpose. It was like music to my ears. The ability to hear is a gift. I heard people say that I would grow tired of the sounds as they had. I kept thinking that they do not understand. The ability to hear the sounds of life amazed me. Hearing is the music to dance. Now I could dance with music in my life. I was humbled and honored by this gift.
Moments
The soul search into my identity as I travelled through my sorrow and memories of past victimization awakened me on various levels of self awareness. I began exploring my own inner dynamics to provide understanding and further the process of my own healing. Writing this memoir allowed me access to further explore who I am, how the past impacted me and how I can now interact with the present healthy, and positive. I am beginning to move forward. I am learning that most of my life that I had been a people pleaser due to my conditioning. One of the most important things that I have learned, thanks to my best friends Suandra and Lucky is that I am safe and no one will abuse me.

My inner demons or ghosts of the past still like to resurface however I am beginning to learn abou the tools to combat them. I am self learning by attending online workshops for inner thoughts and positive thinking. Saundra’s and Lucky’s role modeling of a positive, loving and non manipulative friendship and mentoring has demonstrated to me how to socially interact both privately and publicly. A journey that still continues as of this writing.

Saundra and her family have been instrumental in showing me the greatness and celebration within the fabrics of life. In continuing to accept the very fabrics of who I am, I see the lives around me as a celebration. A life that serves as a reminder of the various journeys that we take in our lives. Each one of our lives intersect, meet, and intertwine as a spider’s web that delicately sets the balance of light and dark. I am no longer one that seeks the approval of love or needing a relationship of love to validate that I am worthy of love. I accept the experiences of my past as a marking of a journey travelled. A life full of a journey and lessons learned.

There will be reminders, and markers of the past. That is okay. It is in the recognizing of those reminders that allows me to realize that walls are no longer needed to hide. My life is now. I am here and honored. My energy is changing as well. The flashbacks are still there however I am journaling them to understand as to why.

Just this night I was watching a show on television. The plot was paranormal in its premise. Normally paranormal shows do not affect me. This night it did. The episode was based on a true event that happened in Chico, California 1976. The plot dealt with a woman that had been tortured, throat slit and killed. I found myself cringing as her neck was cut. It reminded me how my throat was cut. In that moment of seeing that on television, I felt the knife cutting my throat. I was reliving the memory. I drove home holding my throat. My body was beginning to panick and had to pull over on the side of the road. At one point I looked in the mirror to make sure I was not bleeding. I started to count, breathing deeply into my body. I started to come back from that memory. I felt every fiber of breath that was granted to me through spirit, through god and through the greatness of that which is called life.

Reflecting on the blessing of my life, I recalled what my friend Saundra said today,

“Life is about creating new memories”

Spiritually lies within the molding of our spirit and life. In physical terms the answer cannot be defined by a simple equation. It is the sum of our experiences that define our existence. It the emotions that imbue our dna, our heart and our soul that marks the greatness of our flight through the skies of life. How we process that journey becomes the canvas of our life. I decided to write Spirit a letter for it was time.

Dear Universe/Spirit,

September 12, 2012:

I look back realizing all the lessons so far that you have given to me. You were next to me every moment. I apologize for being angry at you Spirit. I believe now that in her own way that Danielle did love me. I felt it and therefore it was real. A friend told me that if it’s not real you wouldn’t have felt it. I understand now that it was not about Danielle being dishonorable. Danielle leaving was the only way that she knew how to deal. We had grown apart from one another.

I placed myself in the role of a victim. Something that I had known quite well how to do. I didn’t want to own that I had a part in her departure. I utilized Danielle in many ways to validate me. I am no longer in the role of a victim. I still have a long way to go in learning Spirit. Please forgive me if I stumble. I am only human and I am learning.

I am a person, a woman who survived and would champion for others. Danielle and I were no longer compatible because she was an emotional fixer up. Danielle fed upon my victim energy so she would look good. The reality is that Danielle had challenges as well. It was a season that lasted briefly. The greatest quote I have heard come from the lyrics of a song by Madonna today, called “THE POWER OF GOODBYE”:

“You heart is not open so I must go. The spell has been broken. I loved you so. Freedom comes when you learn to let go. Creation comes when you learn to say goodbye.”

Danielle was my lesson. This whole time I was so angry at you Spirit. I thought that you had played the ultimate mind fuck on me. The truth was…I was angry at myself. I was the fortress that had to burn for me to find my core and grow. I had to learn to trust. Forgive me, Spirit for doubting. I know that faith has always been my grace. I know that you saved me Spirit.

Thank you for the gift of a new family through my friends. I hope that I can be the great friend as they have been for me. I know I was a mess when they met me. There still tweeks to work out. I know that I will stand again stronger and healthier. I vow to help others connect to you Spirit. I know that Lucky and Saundra are humble. They saved me. Spirit, you did not have to send me such a great gift. Yet you did. I am honored that you did not leave my side.

Spirit, Saundra and Lucky are a true blessing. I wish that they could see how they are the instruments of grace. Let me now be granted with grace and fly as the eagle, run with the buffalo and howl with the wolfs touching the lives of those around. If I but touch one life then all I have been through has been worth all of what I have seen and endured. Seeing the lives of Saundra and lucky and how they smile, the lives of the women in my circles touched by my work, I know now I am the butterfly emerged from a cocoon. Let me fly upon the winds and my colors shine for this child today has become of a woman of substance, strength and a woman with a voice.

AMEN,

Your humbled follower,

Katherine Symthe.

THE PRESENCE OF TODAY

GENDER IDENTITY

A common theme amongst victims of sexual abuse is a lack of understanding regarding their own sexuality and gender identity. Gender identity is formed early on as children search for their social cues, and displays based on environment, family interactions and social cues. Childhood vicitimization leads to stressful factors creating difficulties in ones embracing of several identities including sexuality and gender identification. My biological family stripped me of my identity, sexuality and gender identification through their forced traumazations. Often times victims of sexual abuse will either become self isolated, possess hyper sexual drives and/or lack an understanding of their placement within these identities.

My homosexuality is inante and born within me. I discovered at 19 that I was a lesbian however didn’t understand how to relate to it. I experimented with bisexuality to fit the norm and quickly discovered it didn’t work for me. Every time I had sex with a man it didn’t feel natural to me. I use to ask friends at the time to explain this to me. Those so called friends would explain however turn around and make fun of me. I became a mockery to them. The very idea of sexual intercourse reminded me of the rapes. I saw sex as nothing more that someone going to the market place shopping for lettuce. While I slept with the father of my son it was bland and I felt blank during the process. My thought was that I had to do this because it was expected. There was no pleasure for me. In trying to understand sexuality and the pleasures I went into prostitution as an early adult. It was easy. Afterall I had been trained since I was three since Kendra always sold me to men for money.

The john that I had would be the one that took me out of prostitution. He said that I had reminded him of his daughter and he felt guilty about what he was doing. I was with this john for six months until one day when he woke up. That morning He said that he had a dream that God spoke to him and that I was to be returned to spirit immediately or lose everything.

I remember looking at him like he was loosing his marbles. The next morning his car was stolen. Instantly he knew what needed to be done. He had no clue about spirit. I remember how he told me that one day I would find myself. He gave me $10,000 dollars cash and told me to never return to the town that I was living in. He said that I should never feel guilty for what happened to me. One day I would wake up inside and find I was a beautiful woman.

I took that $10,000 dollars and bought six months of rent. I have never spoken about part of my life until this memoir. It is important to know. As victims we will tend to repeat cycles of abuse by others onto us. It’s a way to show that we have no value. We tend think that because of low self esteem that we are nothing. A lesson that I myself am learning. I have never returned to the world of prostitution since.

Five years would pass. I met my wife to be. Her name was Sue. She was a woman of intensity, 5’2, white with black hair. She was always fighting weight problems. We stayed together for 10 years til our divorce. Our marriage was tumultuous. Five years into the marriage, Sue became physically abusive. Sue had become involved in something called Reiki. She utilized Reiki as an excuse to hit me. Sue claimed that she was just channeling energies to help heal me. This is not Reiki. Let it be known that Reiki is not abusive and doesn’t infect a person to become an abuser.

I thought that Sue would be the one to teach me about sexuality and love. Sue said that it was not her job to teach. My job was to please her. Our intimacy consisted soley of me pleasuring her with a strap on. Once Sue was fulfilled she demanded that I make her food. I was never satisfied in the intimacy. Sex to me was like whatever. I had seen this as my punishment for my past and being a victim of rape. My people pleasing behavior was coming out. I thought that by only pleasing others and forgetting about me that I would be safe. The divorce of my ex wife, only proved to me in my eyes that I was right. When you think a thought, you will find validation to prove that truth. For 21 years of my adult life, I kept validating my low self esteem in my sexuality and gender identity. I found every woman that only wanted me to please them. I came to a self conceived idea that this was okay. I literally became a living self fulfilling prophecy. I thought that this was gender identity and sexuality. It was not. It was a vicious punishment I inflicted on myself for being abused.

Danielle, of all people, would be the one that taught me the pleasures of sexual intercourse. She awakened me to new heights with pleasures, feeling and emotions. The old saying “Danielle turned me out” fits here because it’s true. Having been turned out sets a new bar of excellence in sexual intimacy. I wanted more all the time, and Danielle gave it to me. It became a sexual craving insatisble that Danielle and I explored each time with other. Danielle loved my craving and loved how we went to new places of discovery. It was a fire burning inside of me and with each new burning and satification became a revitalization. The way we craved and pleasured each other was like an explosion of new sensations of our bodies. I had never felt so clear as I did with Danielle sexually. When Danielle left, I felt like a cave collapsed and I was trapped inside, doomed to darkeness.

In many ways this contributed to the loss that I endured regarding Danielle because I didn’t want to loose that feeling. The idea of rejection tormented my soul. Reality of our experiences together seemed like a passing dream and I woke to a night mare. She was the first woman that really wanted to provide that sexual connection with me. It was an equal exchange. I had never known such things. I had told Danielle about my past and how I was raped. She always told me that it was time to create new memories. She said that I did deserve to be loved and sexually fulfilled as a woman. Together we had explored all the facets of the sexual connection. Danielle was always patient with me. I felt fulfilled.

In reality, I had given Danielle a power over me in validation through sexuality. There is an energy when you give people power over you. It is a very powerful. It becomes intoxicating to have power over someone. I know that in the moments that we were intimate that it was real. Danielle’s words to me were real in that moment. She awoke the sexual connection in me as a woman. I came to life. In the process of awakening I began to shift my energy. I was no longer in the same vibration as I once was. Danielle no longer had a purpose of validation. I did not realize this at the time. I do miss the sexual connection as it was the first time I had felt this in my soul. I do not miss that I made myself a prisoner of my own low self esteem.

In the process of healing, and accepting the loss of Danielle I began to change as a woman. I was no longer someone that was lost. I began to see my inner beauty. Saundra’s and Lucky’s unconditional love in their friendship awakened my core essence to a new, higher vibration level. I began to do the core work on myself. In the process I began to emerge as a woman of substance, beauty and depth. When Saundra and Lucky first met me they had no idea if I was butch or femme. I did not even know what I was in my gender identity. I was androgynous. Their positive enforcement of value guided me to finding what was natural for me. I love being feminine and all the facets of womanhood.

Gender identity is about what speaks to you. Sexuality can be difficult as victims. I know this first hand. I love the sexual awakening that is occurring in myself as I find my gender identity and embracing my feminitiy.While my exploration of my gender identity and sexuality continues, I have been awakened sexually as a woman. This awakening has given me a sense of a part of me that was once isolated. There is now a sense of what I want and desire in the next relationship. Danielles behavior of how she departed was disrespectful and dishonorable. However, I have learned a lot. During the first year of writing this memoir I didn’t want anything to do with any possible future sexual relationships. During the second year, I went into the exploration of the process and what I learned on all levels somatically. Today, I am open to a new sexual relationship, a partnership with another woman.

My eyes are wide open to the possibilities and will not ignore red flags or warning signs. I shall be mindful of the choices I make for I am no longer allowing myself to repeat cycles of negativity in my lie. I have reclaimed my life and now thriving today. I have written a manifestation of what the next relationship looks like right down to the last detail. I cannot answer or attest as to whether or not the manifestation shall be granted. What I do know is that the universe is about timing.

BIOLOGICAL FAMILY CLOSURE
The process of writing this memoir led to do one last closure to 2012. It was time to bring closure to my biological family. There was one last surviving member to contact. I had not talked to them since I was 17, almost 24 years ago. In January 2013, I decided to find my aunt Cyd. I knew how to get a hold of her. There was information that I really needed to find out truth about. A small part of me had this gran illusion that she would just apologize for everything that had happened. However, I knew the truth.

I needed to bring closure and tell them that I know that what they did to me was wrong. I wanted to also let her know that I forgive her. Surely, I was not apologizing nor there was no way in hell that I was forgiving her for her. The forgiveness was for my own peace of mind. Finally, Kendra use to tell me that I was not her biological child. I was told that I was bought on the black market. I had no reason to doubt because most of the children that they had abused were bought from the black market. These people use to switch out children at birth for a price. It was a family business and that was how they made their money. Kendra took it a step further by selling children into prostitution. Men use to pay Kendra to rape and molest children. Kendra provided the children in satanic ceremonies. I was one of those children sold by Kendra to these depraved, sick men.

I nervously called Cyd. She acted like no time had passed between us. 24 years had passed between us. Time for truth was here. Something inside me told me what she was going to say and it made sick to my stomach. I tried to record the conversation however my voice recorder was acting up.

I read Cyd a quote from the Bible. I read Psalms 32 about forgiveness.

“I’m going to ask you some questions, you’ll tell me the truth.”

“Of course, why would I lie?” Cyd stated.

“Don’t go there. Your life is a lie. You know what was done.” I said.

Cyd sighs.

“After today, your life is in the hands of Spirit. May God have mercy on your soul for the children you hurt. You stayed silent because you were a coward,” I said

Cyd nervously laughed,

“I was smart. Do you honestly think I wanted my back broken, or tortured the way you were because you stood up?” Cyd asked.

I lit a cigarette,

“Who is my real mother?” I asked.

“Yes, we bought children. Kendrea bought them and yes they be switched and then at her disposal for torture and payment. However, Kendra is your mother,” Cyd stated.

“Are you sure?”

“No. I didn’t go to the hospital with Kendra when she was in labor. However Kendra came home with you in her arms,” Cyd responded.

“Know this, you may think your blood runs through me however, I will have a DNA test done to find out my ethnicity and the truth will be revealed,” I said.

“Okay and yes since we are on truth. Kendra did rape you, sold you and yes she did beastality on you,” Cyd stated.

I threw down my cigarette.

“Do you know what I have gone through living with the fact, she tied me down, raped me with a dogs dick, and you stood there watching and not doing anything.” I yelled.

“you have to forgive, Kat,” Cyd started crying.

“We were lost and you were the first child in seven generations of our family that ever stood up and refused to do what we did. We will die and go to hell for our sins.” Cyd stated.

“I forgive you because of God and for my own peace of mind, however I shall not be silent regarding the evils that you have committed.”I said. Cyd asked me a question that was hard to answer.

“If God exists, and he is so powerful then why did he allow the

Children to die, to be raped and tortured,”

I felt like I was talking to Kendra again when I was a child. I told Cyd that God had a plan. What happened in our family was pure evil. I found her guilty of being a coward. I asked her why she never stood up.

“Are you kidding? I saw how they beat you and broke your back.

I was like hell no. I will keep quiet thank you,” Cyd responded.

Cyd went on to explain how the sins of the family history stopped when I stood up against the family. They only knew how to hurt children. Cyd told me that I was caught in the crossfire by standing up against Kendra. I told Cyd that I had faith that they would be dealt with. Kendra may be dead now, however their silence shall condemn them. Cyd told me that she was proud of me for standing up and that if I was still a writer that I needed to write my story so that the other children shall never be forgotten.

I asked one last question. It was a question that I knew would hurt me. I had to know.

“Did Kendra ever love me?” I asked.

“No. She hated you with all she was. You were just a well

bred dog touched by God,” Cyd responded.

I held my cell phone out from me. I had begun crying. I quickly gathered myself.

“You said that you all believe in God. That Kendra accepted God

On her deathbed. Do you really believe in God?” I asked.

“We just don’t want to go to hell and God says he forgives our sins”

I took a deep breath into my body. For a brief a moment, I thought,

You son of a bitches. You think you found a loop hole in Christianity.

“I did not call to ponder your soul. I called to let you know

I forgive you. I pray that one day you will realize the evil that you

Visited on me,” I said.

“We know it’s just the past. We were born that way. You have to

Move forward and let it go. Well have a good day,” Cyd said.

A part of me wished that Kendra did love me. I always thought that maybe if I was strong enough for the both of us that she would realize that she did not have to hurt children. I was her child. Kendra always said I was bought. To hate a child so strongly was devastating to me. Kendra’s hated of me imprisoned my heart and created low self esteem within me. There is irony. The day I found out that she died when I was 25, I went to the cemementary. I asked spirit to be kind in her crossing over and perhaps in her next life she will not be so evil. Cyd’s words hurt me. I knew the truth deep inside of me. Cyd’s words made it reality.

Afterwards, I cried because at the end of the day, they are pathethic pedophiles, torturers and rapists. This was my closure with my biological family. I will never again make contact with them. There are certain truths that have a point of no return once exposed. I endured horrific abuse at the hands of the ones that were suppose to love me and protect me. I stood up against them and that made me different. All my life I hated that I was different. Now I celebrate my difference. I hid behind walls. Now I speak my truth that has shaped me.