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The life and weirdness of Kim |
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Who is Kim? Heck, I don't know, but I am trying to figure it out. For the important facts, see: "Invalid Entry" 
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| I sit here nearly through my thirty sixth year, dredging through memories for what feels like the eight hundredth time in the past few weeks. Each time exacts a little price, but it also teaches me a new lesson. Tonight I approach this story with a mix of dread and expectation. Maybe I will just recall the pain of the memories, but maybe I learn something amazing. As well, maybe, just maybe, what I have been through might help someone else see that there is life after a truly horrible childhood. My earliest memory is the sound of my father's feet racing down the basement steps of our home. The next thing I knew, I flew through the air and crashed into a wall over and over again. My father thought that I was hurting my brother who was actually laughing and squealing because the puppy was licking his face. I had been playing with my barbie a few feet away. That was when it started. That day of my fifth year began twelve years of slaps, pounding, and assorted other physical abuse. Twelve years of living in terror. I don't really remember very much of my childhood, and what I do remember has very little emotion tied to it, not even the twice that Dad grabbed me by the throat, and I believed that I was going to die. What I do remember is the churning dread I felt in my stomach when I heard our dog start to bark, announcing Dad's arrival home. As soon as he drove in the lane, I would run downstairs to my room. There I would lean against my door and listen to hear what Dad did when he came in the house. If he said nothing and just headed up to the kitchen, it was a fairly safe night depending on what Mom made for supper. If he started yelling about someone's shoes not being straight enough... it was time to head for the barn, to hide out until bedtime. I hid out for years, spending my time riding my horse, doing my chores and writing my stories. They were the things that saved my childhood from being completely unhappy. I lived inside my head most of the time, divorcing myself from a real world that was just too painful to accept. The physical abuse, though painful and damaging, was no where near as destructive as the constant verbal abuse, specifically that I was useless, lazy, and stupid. I was an embarrassment who had to behave perfectly in public and uphold my father's dignity at all times or else when we got home, the beating began. In Grade Ten, I had a crush on a boy in my drama class. The night of our big performance, he told me to shove off because he would never be attracted to someone like me. I was devastated, and spent the entire night upset. When I got home, I was beaten for being sad in public. My entire childhood, I was a little overweight, so my father found me particularly embarrassing and kept me on starvation rations my entire life at home. He took away my chocolate at Easter and gave it to the neighbors, and made sure that I did not get desserts and treats. Well, he tried. I stole what I was not allowed to have and kept the weight on. Beyond the physical and verbal abuse, there was The Game. It was not perpetrated by my father, and I will not identify the person who created it. The Game meant that I got a signal to go into the closet of my bedroom, remove my clothes, pull something in front of my face and wait for the other party to enter the other side. I became body parts to be used for their gratification, body parts I began to despise as I grew up, matured early and gained more attention for them. When I was still in elementary school, the high school boys used to chase me around asking to feel my breasts. At home, The Game went on for nearly six years until I hit puberty and pregnancy became a risk. For two years I caught a bit of a break. Dad was still a problem, and being tormented at school by kids who could sense my frail prsonality. They preyed on my weakness, making my life miserable. After the sexual abuse stopped, I must have felt that punishment missing from my life because I began abusing myself. Knives, pins, anything that could cause pain and wound those parts of me that I hated so much became my friends, helping release the internal pain of rage and shame. During these years I also became bulimic and finally lost the few pounds that had kept me as the fat kid my whole life. I looked good. I didn't feel very good about myself, but I knew that I looked pretty fine. I hoped that looking the way I did, I could attract the notice of a young man on whom I had a crush. Just before Christmas of my fourteenth year, I attracted his notice, but not in the way I had anticipated. That young man, his much older brother, and their sister, one of my best friends, took turns holding me down and raping me. My parents were upstairs and heard me screaming, but didn't bother to check out the ruckus. That was the last thin day of my life. The day after high school graduation, I left home. For ten years I ran from one place to the next, hoping to escape myself and the pain that I kept bottled up inside, but it never worked. I cut myself, I abused myself terribly, and one day when I was twenty four, I nearly killed myself. I was downstairs chopping wood for a fire, because I couldn't afford to buy oil for the furnace. I had been living in two rooms of a delapidated old farmhouse for nearly a year, eating Cheez Whiz sandwiches and whatever good spots I could find in the rotten potatoes in the cold cellar. That day, I hit my leg with the backside of the axe head and completely lost control of the rage. I started beating everything around me with the axe, and then very nearly took it to myself. Luckily, I threw it aside, ran upstairs and sat sobbing on the couch for three days. At the end of three days without food or sleep, I got up and called my doctor. He sent me to a community therapy clinic. The counselors there decided that I had Multiple Personality Disorder even though I had never experienced any of the symptoms, except for the fact that I am a little dissociative... I stare into space and daydream a lot. I left there and moved on to a counselor who told me that I was just an overly sexual child. The next one was the most outrageous; he claimed my problems stemmed from eating too many products that contained yeast. I stopped looking to the mental health community for help. Years passed, and I kept moving, kept searching for a way out of the darkness and the self-abuse. In 1995, I lived out in the bush for a year and finally started figuring out the lessons I needed to learn to be able to heal. The first lesson was that I needed to forgive. I did not say that what people had done to me was okay, but just made an acknowledgment that hating them and myself wasn't hurting them. They were somewhere else, feeling little or no remorse for what they had done. The only person being hurt by hanging on to the rage was me. I wrote letters telling people that what they had done was despicable, but I was not going to let them ruin any more of my life. I was not going to let them hold that power over me any longer. They had been responsible for my past, but only I was responsible for my future from that moment on. I wanted a future filled with happiness and love, not one darkened by self-hatred, shame and distrust. After this, my life began to change. My self-abuse began to be replaced by meditation, self-acceptance and then love. Over the years, I have learned to love myself, to truly feel my own worth, and that the most important lesson of all is that we all need to take care of each other and love each other. I learned to not turn away if I think someone needs my help. I have learned to not fear my sexuality, and very recently that I don't have to be strong all the time in order to be safe. I can trust other people to support me and keep me safe sometimes. Perhaps if someone, anyone, had stepped forward to help me when I was a child, or even when I so needed the help as an adult, I would have learned this lesson a lot earlier. I have also learned how to love, deeply and without distrust or reservation -- what a precious lesson. It has been a long road, but I wouldn't trade it. The love I feel now, and the lessons I have learned have made me into an exceptional person, a person I can feel proud to be most of the time. That makes my unhappy childhood worth every second. |
The 360 Degree Kim Who Am I?  I am the sun before it rises -- A brilliant show of colour but offering little warmth. I am the morning sun -- Casting long shadows that lean towards promise and hope, shining with potential.I am the sun at its zenith -- Harsh, bright and burning with intensity.I am the afternoon sun -- Warm, indirect, lazy, calling you out to play.I am the sun when it sets -- Beautiful and calming, embracing and loving, brimming with fulfilled purpose.I am the new moon -- Dark, mysterious, secretive, sensual. Sometimes blind to my beauty. Sometimes lost in the dark. I am the full moon-- Glowing, ripe, romantic, playful, revelling in both my inner and outer beauty. I am the earth -- Wise, bountiful, fertile, nurturing, supportive, loving, unconditional. A solid foundation upon which to build.I am air -- Weightless, powerful, invisible, undeniable. Sometimes still and quiet, other times I'll blow your roof offI am water -- Flowing, calm, tumbling, joyful. Sometimes full of turmoil hiding just under the surfaceI am fire -- Warming, calming, protective, lifegiving, but not something to be handled carelessly or toyed with.I am ether -- Feeling the power of God and the miracle of life and love in every cell of my body.My Favorite Foods My mom's meatloaf, my spagetti, and my brother's creation lovingly called slop. My Favorite Sleeping Position On my side, curled up. My Favorite Movie That would be a toss up between Forrest Gump, Excalibur, and the three Lord of the Rings movies. My Favorite Musician(s) Too many to have a favorite. Jewel, Loreena McKennit, Enya, Duran Duran, The Police... long long list. What Makes Me Happy? (in no particular order)  Being with the people I love regardless of happy, sad or angry times. My cats because they love me no matter what, and remind me not to take myself too seriously. The hope of love and family in my future. Being called by an affectionate nickname and the loving connection it implies.Writing, because it takes me away from the world and yet brings it into sharper focus at the same time.Being out in nature, connecting with the earth and God.Creating something beautiful that I can be proud of.Horses, and Dressage. Riding makes me feel free and graceful and connected.MusicLying in bed and listening to the rainBeing held, feeling loved and safe.ThunderstormsFeeling close to God, and feeling that love all the way through me.Doing unexpected sentimental sorts of things for the people I love.When they do the same for me.A good cup of sweet, milky tea or peppermint tea with clover honey.What Makes Me Sad/Hurt/Cry  Feeling ignored, invisible, or otherwise not important enough to take note of. Man's inhumanity to man. It breaks my heart to see what we are capable of doing to each other. Sometimes I mourn for my childhood and the little girl who deserved so much better.When friends or family are hurting.The end of relationships. I hate letting go, losing people and saying goodbye.When people get hurt--disasters, war, accidents, whatever.Feeling alone, and that I will always be alone.Feeling ugly and undesirableWhen my father and stepmother ignore me or otherwise show that they don't care.I cry because of sad songs, movies, etc.I cry during happy or sentimental moments in movies, books, whatever.I cry when I am angry or frightened.What Makes Me Angry  Man's inhumanity to man. SelfishnessCruelty to animalsBeing denied a chance to speak, tell my side, or whatever.When money is more important than people. When people make promises and break them.When my dad says he will do something, I plan for it, and then he changes his mind.Being taken for grantedPeople on ebay who start getting rude about their item a week after purchase.People who make assumptions and refuse to budge from them even when faced with counter evidence.Sensorship or condemnation of thought, speech or creativity.Self-righteousness and arrogancePeople who use peopleChild abuseWhat Makes Me Afraid  Rage. Nothing terrifies me more than someone who is very angry. Bad driving. My stepfather can scare me into tears with his driving.Greed. It can cause people to do incredibly inhuman things.War and terrorism because all they do is breed more hatred and thus more war and terrorism.Hatred because it destroys everything it touches.My Idea of a Perfect Moment On a cool summer evening, curling up next to a fire with the person I love, watching the fire and the northern lights, listening to the sounds of the loons, the breeze rustling the trees, the frogs chirping, and the beat of his heart under my ear. My Quirks and Unique-cities. I don't wear socks unless forced to by social convention. I love the water. I think I was a dolphin in a previous life.  I tend towards being too hot rather than too cold. I dislike crowds and don't like shopping for anything. Don't like yard sales, but do enjoy auctions. I am a very tactile person, and go absolutely nuts over anything soft -- literally stroking or playing with whatever it is for hours. The item usually ends up being rubbed against my top lip. LOL I am incredibly ticklish, but not in most of the usual spots. I am physically and emotionally incapable of having meaningless sex.The Things my Parents Taught me by their Bad Example Never to settle for anything less than what is good for me and what will make me happy. Life is too short to spend it miserable because I settled. To build people up rather than tear them down. That a single brutal word or action can cause a lifelong wound; a whole bunch of them can destroy a life. What I Offer Friends Platonic love. I love my friends as if they are family. Loyalty. I don't very often give up on friends, and even if I do, it doesn't last long. Trust. I never knowingly divulge a secret or do something I know will hurt someone. I try to make it so that my friends are safe in my hands. I don't always succeed, but I try. Complete acceptance. I accept my friend's weaknesses and down sides as valuable parts of who they are. They would not be the person I care about without the frailties in addition to their strengths. It's hard for me to come out with hard truths because I fear my friend's anger, but I do my best to be honest. Kindness. A soft shoulder and an attentive ear. A staunch defender. I try to always have my friend's back. Sound advice when they want it. A safe place to fall when they need to collapse and lean on someone else for a while. Any material need that it is within my power to give, and safe shelter whenever it might be needed. Unconditional support. Forgiveness. I can't hold a grudge for long. Patience. I have a very long attention span and believe that things take as long as they take. LOL That doesn't mean I won't help them along if I can. Solidity and steadfastness. When the world gets crazy, most of the time I am able to keep my head and settle things down. Fun. I love to laugh, tease, play, dance, and enjoy life as much as I can.What I Need From A Friendship  Love. It is part of my nature that I need to know that I am loved and appreciated. I forget sometimes. Trust. I need to know that I can trust their honesty and integrity, that they will be there when I need them, and that I am safe with them in both an emotional and physical way. I can be incredibly strong, but also occassionally incredibly weak. I need to know that I have a soft place to fall, and someone who will listen. Patience. LOL Sometimes I get cranky when migraines set in, so it is great if people can face down my grumpiness, give me a little hug and ride it out. Sometimes I panic and need a calming influence rather than someone who'll lose their head with me. Someone who will play with me. I need to know that my friends will be there for me when things are terrible as well as when they are great. That they will accept the ugly Kim as well as the beautiful one, the sad as well as the happy, the anger as well as the peace. I need to be accepted as completely as possible for the woman I am, because despite my shyness and other frailties, I am a pretty awesome woman, and a terrific friend.  If I do say so myself.My Ideas and Dreams of the Perfect Romantic Relationship. A lifetime spent in a relationship where: we wake up every morning, look at one another and feel our love fill us up. the needs of the other partner are as important to us as our own. we don't withhold whatever our partner needs emotionally, physically, mentally and spiritually. there is enough trust that we both feel able to be ourselves. we can talk about anything without judgment. we both have our sexual needs not just met but met with passion, creativity, playfulness, compassion, and sincerity. we never tire of doing small, romantic things to ensure that our partner feels completely loved. give one another enough space to indulge those interests that we don't share spend time indulging those interests that we do share. money is just a tool to give us the life we want rather than an end unto itself. laughter is a big part of every day. we never leave an argument without finding a resolution. we support and nurture one another as we continually evolve and try to build ourselves into stronger, more aware, more spiritual, more loving and secure people. play every day. we understand that we are going to hurt, annoy and frustrate one another from time to time, but are devoted to working through those times and using them to deepen our partnership and affection. we discuss rather than fight. we will defend one another to the death no matter what. connect on a spiritual level. create a solid, devoted unit that allows family and friends to find peace, solace and refuge in our home. respect one another's beliefs, and create an atmosphere where we feel free to share them without being judged.My Relationship Fears  My partner won't understand or meet my need to know that I am loved, thus leaving me feeling rejected, uncertain, and alone. I will end up with a man with the temper, meanness, brutality, changeability and money obsession of my father. I won't be ready for sex at the same pace as my partner, and they will take that as rejection. That I am broken from all the years of abuse and the rape... that I won't be able to find a man kind and patient enough to make it so that I can feel safe and loved. I will be taken for granted and be left feeling frustrated. Discovering one day that... Oops, they don't love me anymore. They changed their mind. |
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I believe it.
Congrats, Kim! Glad to hear your wedding went well. I wish you a wonderful marriage and lots of love for the both of you. 
