Candidly Candace, Inc. BLOG on Blogger: This Week's Guest

Monday, August 17, 2009

This Week's Guest

On Sunday, August 23rd, our segment will be "We Are NOT Damaged Goods!" We will be discussing the stigma attached to women survivors of abuse, rape, domestic violence, incest and gender violence. Our guest will be Mildred Muhammad, former wife of the notorious convicted DC sniper who terrorized the Washington DC metro region in late 2002. She is also a survivor of domestic violence, author of Scared Silent and Founder and Executive Director of After the Trauma, Inc. Join us for what will certainly be a memorable and in depth discussion. Feel free to call in and participate in our live chat after the show. Call in number is 347-996-3381.

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My Story:

No one needs to be ashamed of abuse. As a survivor of rape and domestic violence, I fully understand the mental and physical toll these types of abuse have on women. We need to know that we are not alone and that there are resources out there to help us. I'd like to take this opportunity to share a little bit of my story. At age five, I was molested by a babysitter's son. My parents divorced when I was in third grade and my mother, who was awarded full custody, gave me up despite knowing about my father's history of molesting young girls in the neighborhood. She wanted no one to interfere with her new life with her new rich husband. While living with my father, I was raped repeatedly beginning at age 13. I was a child and didn't know anything about sex. He told me that he was trying to teach me something and that God would punish me if I didn't allow him to teach me. He'd lock my brother outside when my brother played with his friends and rape me. My body felt dirty as he did things to me no one should do to a child. Somehow, my mother found out and told one of my classmates who told everyone at school. I was called all kinds of bad names and was actually accused of sleeping with my father willingly. The shame I felt was almost unbearable and drove me to various suicide attempts. I hated myself and wanted to die. Yet, no one would rescue me. My mother came back to build a relationship with my younger brother and didn't even seem to care about me. I was isolated. I couldn't even go to the bus stop by myself. My father said that if I got pregnant, he would tell the doctors that it was due to some boy in the neighborhood but that I would have to have his baby! I never felt so alone and depressed. I hated everything about my body. When I finally confronted my father about his behavior in front of my brother, he said that he didn't remember raping me. I was afraid but determined not to allow him to hurt me anymore. When he tried to approach me, I fought back, kicking and screaming. He hit me but I still fought back. I was being blamed for the abuse. My brother told me that I wanted it and my mother had spread the rumor that I seduced my father and destroyed their marriage. I want everyone to know, abuse is NOT the victim's fault! Shortly after, I ran away to go to college with the help of the police and some friends. My father continued to stalk me. Thankfully, he didn't know where I lived . I worked two jobs and went to school full time because I intended to become something. At age 20, I got involved in an abusive relationship. I believed him when he said he loved me. Instead he beat me, drugged me, took off with my car and wrecked it, cheated on me, and raped me after he put drugs in my food. After four years, I had had enough. One day, he came home high and started throwing things. He called me some bad names, beat me, ripped off my clothing and tried to throw me outside naked. He pinned me down, made our dog lick my breasts while I cried helplessly. He then stuffed a pair of dirty underwear in my mouth and tried to suffocate me. I held onto consciousness .The look in his eyes as he pressed his hands over my mouth was frightening. I thought I would die. When he released me, my lips were swollen but I managed to scream as loud as I could and escaped from him. I ran to a neighbor's and called the police. It didn't end there. He was released the same night and I spent two years running from him. He broke in my place several times, hid in the dark, had his friends follow me from work and threaten to kill me. I blamed myself for getting involved with him, but should I be blamed for someone else's actions? As a result of these incidents I had problems trusting men and was always afraid. After getting out of that relationship, I was raped when helping someone from my church move. I begged and pleaded but nothing helped. He was married although his wife lived in another state. When I told our pastor about it, the abuser blamed me. He said that I knowingly seduced him. Due to such a rocky start in life, I had difficulties opening up and getting close to people. I had bad relationships. I felt I was always being used for my body. I've been to several therapists but no one could help me change until I realized that none of the abuse was my fault. Today, I am happily married and have a beautiful baby girl. After having my daughter, I had terrible nightmares that someone would hurt her. With the support of my loving husband and new family and friends, I am able to be more confident than ever. Yes, I still have moments of depression, but I am working through it. It is important to know that you are not alone and that attempting to go it alone is not necessary. Everyone should be free to express themselves and feel safe. Personally, I find it reassuring to know that there are others out there just like me who struggle everyday to overcome tragedy. Together, we can give each other the strength to survive and thrive.

Candace's Poetry Book!!!

Running Waters: The Poetry of A Woman's Soul by Candace Nadine Breen available in March 2010 at Amazon.com

Here is a sample from the book:

P S Y C H E

Lost in the wind, I awaited

your voice calling me home.

I walked hand in hand with the

pulsating ocean currents. Now

I move like a night worker across

the mountains, my song, deadening

the dry, parched heart of the savanna.

I live by the rise of the

tequila‐flavored sun and the fall of the

innocent. Let me drink the beat

of your soul in the land of the Navajo.

stretch your hand across the

crystal‐watered pavement which threatens

to separate us. Never again shall I

create darkness from the light! I can

touch the purple skies! I am as magnificent

as the eagle.

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Monday, August 17, 2009

This Week's Guest

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