he cut my hair

March 2, 2011

today after spending the whole day really happy, running around with one of my high school girlfriends and her husband, going to the museum and out for dinner, i came home and was working in the kitchen.

husband was at the computer reading about the recent abduction of Alisa, a four year old girl who was kidnapped from her front yard by a registered sex offender. husband came into the kitchen to tell me some of the incidents leading to the police going after the guy after the girl was released and home safe. the little girl recognized her abductor on tv and even pointed him out saying “thats the man who cut my hair“.

when husband said those words out loud to me, the hairs on my arm stood up literally and i shivered…i even remarked back to him “that made me shiver“. within minutes i was wheezing and coughing. after a few minutes of trying to clear my throat and breathe, i used my rescue inhaler for relief, …as i regained composure, husband casually stated that he believes i reacted to the information about the sex offender…and it hit me like a ton of bricks…i was fine until i heard the words that came from a 4 yr. olds mouth, “he cut my hair“. he was right and i was learning the impact of words and how quickly they transported me back to my own childhood horrors.

this child’s story had mesmerized me during her disappearance as most kidnapping stories do for me. usually, i can’t think of most anything else for days and thank goodness in this case she was returned very quickly. i felt almost giddy when i heard she was returned…but when i replayed that scenario and pictured that little girl recognizing and verbalizing those words, i came unglued. my heart started racing, i got dizzy, my throat closed up, my lips were burning…lots of reactions…those words were so familiar, why did i keep replaying them in my head when it occurred to me that i had said those same words in regards to my father who angrily cut my hair…i went to my journal and on 9-30 was my notes about the dream that i had and i woke up with the words running over and over in my head….he cut my hair, he cut my hair, he cut my hair…and he did!  that mother fucker grabbed me in anger by my hair and chopped it off and i have the picture to prove it. long hair in kindergarten and short, chopped, seriously uneven hair in first grade. this washes over me so fast that i have to stop and sit down…

i am gasping, i’m so instantly and completely full of rage…looking at this innocent child and picturing myself the same way made me even angrier. what kind of freaking monster would assault a child sexually and then hold her down and cut her hair as punishment for fighting back and resisting. i hate you so much, you fucking monster…so now i remember and now i will tell, you are dead but i will kill you again for good measure in my mind and then i will tell some more. you can’t keep me quiet any longer and guess what, mother fucker, i’m growing my hair out…

PS–i’m grateful to my husband’s insight and willingness to point it out to me so we could clear the negative energy from that incident while i still have the awareness and presence of mind…i must remember that violence especially to children takes me to a place where i am so fearful and frozen. i must be gentle with myself and this child reassuring her that i will protect her and we are now safe. i take the rest of the evening to wrap myself in blankets and pray to feel safe again in my own skin.

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About Rescuing Little L

Documenting the pieces of my journey...recovery from childhood sexual abuse and cruel ignorance...the effects of those incidious acts through adulthood... until the grace of recovery transcended the trauma and shame of my past, making it possible to return to Rescue Little L.... View all posts by Rescuing Little L

4 responses to “he cut my hair

  • Crowing Crone Joss

    aw sweetie. Every moment like this is so painful and yet handled with love and compassion the way you did, is another healing step on our journey.
    You ARE safe, you ARE loved. Namaste dear one.

    • Little L

      you are so right…these memories are painful and so quick to rear themselves up in the middle of an ordinary day….but i always make it through to the other side of it where my peace lies…its a beautiful thing to do while holding the hands of women like you…

  • monica

    How do you ever feel safe again. That is my question. I live with GAD. I find internal safety next to impssible unless I am sleeping. The fear is just always there. i feel like it always will. Do u write about this anywhere else?

    • Little L

      Hi Monica…Right now I just write here on this blog which I created so I could have a place to put all the memories and thoughts that come up…Safety is what we all strive for isn’t it? There are therapies that have reduced the triggers and PTSD symptoms and I’d love to find a way for us to share what has helped…

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