For the past two years, I have attended a weekend retreat in New Jersey in the month of April with Making Daughters Safe Again (MDSA). Dr. Christine Hatchard is a practicing clinical psychologist and the heart and mind behind the opportunity for women like myself, who are survivors of mother-daughter sexual abuse, to have a safe space with skilled staff to do the hard work of processing and healing. For most of us there have been next to no opportunities to come together with others who understand the impossible inner conflict of having been sexually abused by the one person we ought to be able to turn to for love and protection, no matter what else is happening around us. The need and desire to love our mothers, the deep wounds, the damage from being violated, having our boundaries shattered by them, there is no ready way to reconcile one with the other.
I have written a bit about my impressions and experiences at the retreats in 2015 and 2016. This year, I did not attend, although I was warmly invited and told that I made important contributions to the group each year. That was so nice to hear! It was purely a matter of practicalities—time, mainly, and some upcoming plans—that made me decline the invitation this year.
I picked up my mail at the post office yesterday. Among the AARP magazine, the junk mail, the bills, the note from a friend with information about a lovely garden to visit in our area, was an envelope that had handwriting that looked familiar. As I opened the folded card inside, I remembered: at the end of the retreat, we each wrote a note to ourselves. We were told that if we were able to attend the next year, we would open them at the retreat, and if not, they would put them in the mail to us. The message began simply enough: One year past your second MDSA retreat. What do you hope to get from this year’s retreat? If you are unable to attend, you’re finding this in your mailbox. How can you honor your process reflective of what you achieve through the retreat?
Then, this: What is still difficult?
I took a few seconds to orient myself to what I was looking at, and then I found that the answer came in a heartbeat: trust.
One of the most important things I’ve come to realize is that when I take apart all the pieces of my story, the difficulty with staying connected to people, the marriages, including one spouse who I can say without hesitation is not at fault for the failure of the relationship, the struggling with really letting people know my heart, at the center of this is a tremendous difficulty, even an inability, to fully trust. Trust process. Trust a person. This is hard for me to explain. It is not that I don’t think that I have people in my life who are trust-worthy, because I do. It’s not about them.
It is heartbreaking, really, to have tried for so long, and to see that there is a fundamental breakdown in me. I can love, and I can help, I can appreciate. I can even let people help me (sometimes). Trust is something else again.
I’m on a path of reconciling this fact of my existence, and finding ways to let people in and take real risks. I want the people who love and care about me to know how much it means to me, even as I struggle at the core with trust.
Baby steps, but knowing and shining light on these things is a help.

Spring is a time of renewal. We hear that all the time. Those of you who have enjoyed my nature photography may be surprised to learn that I used to dread the approach of spring. I loved winter. Give me some grey, cold skies, the silence that comes with a blanket of snow. I could relate to this, but spring, with its jubilant nature, its explosion of color and new life, was uncomfortable for me. I could never really put my finger on a reason, nothing specific that happened as the season turned each April or May. Nevertheless, I would literally bear down on my emotions and wait for it to pass.

As some of you are aware, I am a survivor of mother-daughter sexual abuse. I have written about it over the years, mostly for myself, as part of the therapeutic process, and more recently have shared two essays with all who desire to read them. If you wish to access the first one immediately, you can go here, and you can readily find Part Two at the website. https://visionsofsong.com/2013/09/04/on-forgiveness-trust-and-desire-part-one/

A couple of years ago, I learned about an organization called Making Daughters Safe Again. MDSA is led by Dr. Christine Hatchard, Psy.D, a practicing clinical psychologist who also teaches at Monmouth University in New Jersey. From their mission statement: The mission of Making Daughters Safe Again (MDSA) is to support and advocate for survivors of mother-daughter sexual abuse (mdsa), to educate professionals and the general public, and to inspire action, knowledge, healing and hope. You can read much more at the website: http://mdsa-online.org/

I am both thrilled and terrified by the notion that women who have had this experience come together at retreats and workshops to share with and support each other. Last year, I purchased a copy of a DVD that was created with the support of MDSA staff, Who Will Love Me? It’s an incredible effort, with four woman sharing frankly and with a tremendous amount of courage their experiences of mother-daughter sexual abuse. I was aware that though each story was unique, there were some commons threads, themes, and I immediately recognized them. I have a story, too.

In a few weeks, I’ll be attending a special weekend retreat with MDSA. It was no surprise to me that as soon as I was confirmed for attendance, my body started sending me signals. First, there was the harsh thump to my chest, sort of near the upper esophagus, the place where I have historically gotten “choked up” when I am under stress. I worked with that through deep breathing and other techniques. For a long time in my life I would read my body’s pain signals as meaning: AVOID! I know my body well, now, and recognize some of the pain I feel in different parts of it right now as related to the processing of what I am about to embark on, this journey towards greater wellness.

It’s going to be really nerve-wracking and scary. I’m just putting that out there because although I want to do it, and I’m ready to go even though it’s still a few weeks away, I hold that it’s important to be more up front about how I feel. Fear and trust can live together, and knowing this allows me to take steps that would have been impossible at other times in my life.

I think I will have a lot to say about the experience once I’ve returned and processed it. It’s hard to know if I’ll share that right away, or if I’ll sit with it a while. I do look forward to sharing some of my thoughts and feelings about it with you.

Oh, and it’s good to be able to enjoy the days of spring. They really are gifts.