Making MY Declaration

There are experiences from my teen years that I am still healing from today. And my heart is burdened with a pressing question…what if my twenty-something self today could go back in time and tell that thirteen-year-old little girl: “Tell him ‘No.’ Stand up for your self. Respect your body. You’re worth more!”?

I wish I could. And I can.

“Hands are for giving, not taking.” These words haunted me as flashbacks raced through my mind. I was lying in bed waiting for rest to come, but it wouldn’t.

Earlier that day I had participated in a powerful healing experience for girls and women of all walks called Sisters Speak Out. We were given blank white t-shirts and told to paint on them. Paint on them? What would I say?

My thoughts traveled back to those hands and those lips—they took so much away from me. Once again I felt that emptiness of not being loved, of just being taken advantage of.

But even as my thoughts were focused on those painful memories from my teen years, I only half-heartedly painted that t-shirt in the here and now. I outlined my hand and then wrote around it: “Hands are for giving, not taking.”

That night as I lie there quietly tormented by my thoughts, the impact of this powerful and personal phrase hit me hard. It cut to the heart. I wasn’t just painting a t-shirt earlier that day. I was making a declaration—one that I should have made years ago.

Allowing my body to be violated like I did colored my life with negative streaks. Even after all these years I still needed to experience real healing. And the beginning of that came with the painting of a simple white t-shirt. That experience was a turning point in my life.

I was set free by

Making MY Declaration.

Melissa
Editor
Chattanooga Teen Scene

*This selection is an editorial written for Chattanooga Teen Scene/January 2008 ©