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Twenty-eight days and Counting

 Earth date:  October 5, 2020

I hate evil – Satan, Hitler, pedophiles, but I don’t let it consume me. I hate in the sense that I wipe it from heart and mind and prefer to look at the light.

When I was eleven, I was molested by a family member who took advantage of my innocence, my love, and my trust. I escaped and ran to safety, but instead of being protected or consoled, I was told to keep quiet. If I uttered one word, the shame and the outrage would tear my family apart, and it would be my fault. The crime and the punishment were placed on my shoulders, and I felt betrayed by the adults who were supposed to protect me.

Though my voice was silenced, my feelings refused to be muted. If the man who molested me walked into the room, I looked past him. If he talked to me, I ignored him. I was scolded for my rudeness once and I fired back. I would keep his secret but no one could force me to forget or forgive what he had done. I didn’t hate him, but whatever feelings I once felt for him were gone.

The same thing happened when after almost thirty years, I divorced my first husband. It took me a while to get past loving him and to the place where I felt nothing for him. Hate is not the opposite of love; feeling nothing is the opposite of love, and I worked hard to get to the point where I felt nothing for my ex-husband.  All those years of disrespect and cruelty and humiliation dissipated into – nothing. And it was a great relief.

I know hatred. I feel hatred, but I do not bandy it about freely. There are times where one has to take a stand and reject and refuse certain people or actions and there is no other recourse, but I prefer to look toward the light.

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