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I encouraged these women to speak. Their stories were not only similar to one another, they were similar to mine.  But, my abuse had happened so long ago; I was “over it.” I mentioned these things to my colleague, David Markowitz, wondering why these women came to me when abuse was not the focus of my practice. He said something I'll never forget: “This must mean it is time for you to work on your abuse.” I had said nothing about my abuse.

At a support program for women “survivors” of abuse, I spoke for the first time about my childhood experience. We were all middle-class and professional, and I was the black woman in the circle. We didn't talk about my blackness and its impact on the group. We didn't talk about the mind/body effects of abuse. We talked only about the generalized, personalized, deep pain in our lives. At the end of the program, I felt better. I had felt feelings and said things I didn't know I needed to feel or say. This experience disrupted my marriage. Reclaiming my story became a mission, for I was unwilling to identify by pain for life.

Choosing this new journey redesigned my life, took me to Alaska, the Caribbean, and to South Afrika. Little did I know then that my truth would “cost” me everything - every image, every role - and that it would create estrangement in my family, and require that I stand alone with my healing. Wholeness or bust.

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