My Survivor Story

I post this from time to time — it is my story. I am not my story, but I have overcome so much to get where I am, which is something worth honouring.


Poem: Programmed Child

I will not be this person any longer. I am not this child.


The polite child never argues,

never raises her voice, never speaks

unless spoken to, never questions

her captors. She never requires

anything, neither sustenance nor

love, but does what she’s told

as promptly and perfectly

as a wind-up toy. In the right hands,

she can be wound up to do

anything. She knows what she ought

to say, and only says this; she knows

how she ought to act, and only acts

thusly. Yet, being a child, she needs

constant correction, if only to remind

her of her place. Punishment

can be dealt at any time, regardless

of her behavior, and she will beg

to know how best to please

her captors.


Let me preface this post by saying this is not directed at my WordPress friends. This is for my biological family.

It has been said that no one in my family wants drama, yet those who gossip, bitch about me and/or complain about me sharing my abuse story are themselves the ones creating drama, not me. My mother said that Willow was creating drama merely by posting quotes of support for abuse survivors on my facebook. That is not drama. The drama only comes when people start talking and questioning these posts amongst themselves.

So if you don’t like what I am saying about my past, the way to avoid drama is simple. Don’t create it. Stay the hell away from me, stop reading my blog, my facebook, and stop talking about it with other family members. You wanted me to be silent, so I’ve dropped you all and you simply need to stop talking about it yourselves. There: I’ve solved your drama problem for you.

The truly glorious thing is I myself am blissfully drama-free, and absolutely relieved that I’ve cut off my family. I am happy, strong, and full of excitement for the future.