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{Part Two} Releasing Shame Through Self Acceptance

For 8 years I held a secret. I was exposed to a STD and it shook the very core of my existence. I felt shame, I felt such heavy guilt. I blamed myself. I believed I was dirty, unloveable and indeed forever undeserving.

Before the exposure I had only been with one man. We were together for 9 years. I followed all the rules. We were married young and I was his virgin. For years he taught me how to discover my sexuality. I was ashamed having been raised that sexual energy was bad, and only good when making a child in wedlock. Religious jargon to hide the unsettling truths around sexual molestation, abuse and control that existed in the shadows of my closest loved ones.

He left me after 6 years of marriage with a painful confession that he was unfaithful for 5 of them.  I translated that experience as not being enough.  Enough for his desires, and definitely not enough for my own. 

Our ending sent me on a short lived mindless emotionally drained journey.  Feeling like any man who showed any sort of interest in me, even if I was uninterested in him meant I had to be there for him.  If I showed up this way, I would totally understand myself more, I would surely be better at this sex thing, and that would mean I would be loved. Right? 

I met a man, a sick man who was just as energetically imbalanced. I consented to sharing myself with him, out of fear if I didn’t I would forever be undesired. 

The union never united.

But the memory of my desire to save him, or save myself, left the disease he passed down to me dormant in my cells.

7 years this disease slept. I bargained with God.  I did spiritual work, pulled cards, visited countless doctors to draw the same blood test again and again.  All proving it was there.

I met another man. I might of stayed with him out of love, or fear of not being loved.  I know many times, I wished I had left, but I stayed. His love was functional, offering less affection that I would of wished for.  He pretty bruised himself welcomed my bruised parts in. 

As time allowed, I began to see I could heal.  With a bit of distance, a lot of the struggles I found in my relationships with men related to my deepest desire to just accept myself, my story, and the stories that were passed down to me from the people who carried them and cared for me.

In that deep acceptance I allowed myself to seek support.  The shame I held in my body manifested in pelvic floor issues where sex was unbearable.

I learned a few exercises but the one visit that made all the difference was when the Physical Therapist shared her story.  She was my elder and had walked a similar path related to issues in her partnerships because of histories of sexual trauma.  On our next visit, my pelvic floor pain was completely released and she discharged me.

I learned there at that moment the importance of sharing our stories.  When ready, a story can be like the wick of a candle, the candle the shame.  When in safe spaces, we share parts of ourselves that long to be seen, like the flame, bringing light to these parts, we allow the story to do it’s part in healing us, reminding us of the journey traveled and the shame that will melt away.

What manifested as physical limitations, was simply shame.

This year, I’ve made a pact with myself, that I only keep what’s sacred to me. The precious moments that uplift me and shower my soul with love, those, I keep. The shame, I take responsibility for and then I allow it’s teaching to shower it’s lessons into my life and flow away.

Sexual trauma, abuse, shame, has helped me explore the power of sexual energy.  It’s power to create life or to manifest passions into creative pursuits.  I can’t blame the people who misunderstood it’s purpose, nor myself for having been in the path of their ignorance.  I’m no longer a victim to the story or experience.  I don’t allow it to sit in my body any more.  I know that the love I was desiring from others was simply reminding me of the love that I have for myself.

I believe I chose my path this lifetime and it is indeed one to help me see my brightness and accept the dark shadows of my essence.

What I’m most grateful for today is the knowing that I am not dirty, unloveable and undeserving.  That a STD is not a life sentence.  That I could still realize my dreams and that even in sharing my story, I might learn a bit about the power that was granted to me for simply being a woman.  I’m still learning and that is why I’ve devoted my life to living Love and being kind to the very body that held the memory of trauma.  Self care is not something we need to do as survivors, self care is simply how we must live to survive and thrive.

Bio:  Didi is a writer and influencer living in Florida with her daughter and husband. Her compassion for humanity led her to pursue a career as a holistic health educator. On becoming a mother, she developed her passion for storytelling and purposeful living. Her words and creative work is immersed with life lessons, & continues to serve as an anchor for those navigating identity, self-healing and empowered sisterhood.

Follow Deanne on instagram: @deanneziadie and @thedivinefriend

A huge thanks and HUG of love and gratitude for Deanne’s willingness and power to deliver such an incredible heartfelt story with us.



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