It is no accident that Truth, Justice and Liberty are women,
beautiful and strong,
and interdependent.
Because separation from Truth
severs the possibility of Justice
or Liberty.
Wrenched from Truth’s haven
by a tidal wave of horror,
I lost at a young age
the freedom
to discover what I already knew,
which left me vulnerable
to being taught.
He taught me
to be silent:
“Don’t you dare tell anyone what happened.”
He taught me
to speak lies:
“Nothing happened.”
“It doesn’t hurt.”
“I love you, Daddy.”
He taught me
to listen passively:
“Your father is a wonderful man.”
“You are a lucky girl.”
Each lie
piercing my soul,
sweeping me
farther
and farther
and farther away,
powerless
and in pain.
Until I awoke one day
far from the horror,
enveloped by a dense fog
made of lies.
And a glimmer of Truth
pierced the fog,
searching for me and
I recognized her,
and accepted her,
and gave her a voice:
“I am afraid.”
And instantly
another truth appeared,
encouraged by success,
and another,
and another,
and another,
tumbling over themselves
clearing the fog and
bringing me light,
allowing me to see clearly
and speak:
“My father emotionally abused me.”
Each Truth
bearing the gift of strength,
enabling me to look
into scarier
and scarier places
until I gathered enough strength to look at the horror itself
and speak:
“My daddy sexually abused me.”
This Truth banishing the remainder of the fog,
lifting unseen burdens,
leaving me standing
and free.
For Truth has beauty,
and strength,
and power,
and energy
that draws you forward,
gaining momentum as She goes,
granting access to liberty and justice,
seeking to be heard.
As I give Truth
the voice she needs to sustain her,
I gather Freedom and Justice
like pearls,
and nourishment seeps into my soul
like a gentle rain.
While giving this gift
of speaking the Truth,
I watch as moist eyes light with recognition,
and welcome a long-lost friend.
It is no accident that Truth, Justice and Liberty are women.
For as women are abused
and silenced
and torn from Truth,
Liberty and Justice
are denied to all.
