The Reckoning Begins- A Theme Disclaimer & Anchor for the Journey

-

 


The Reckoning Begins

A Theme Disclaimer & Anchor for the Journey

Trigger Warning: This post—and those to come—contain real, raw memories of trauma, abuse, and survival. Please read with care and protect your heart.

Why I’m Writing This

It has taken me over 30 years to give myself permission to grieve. To speak. To heal out loud.

I stayed silent for a long time—because I was afraid. Because I wanted to protect others, even those who hurt me. Because I believed that if I stayed quiet, maybe they’d change. Maybe I wouldn’t be called a liar. Maybe my family would stay intact.

But now, time is running out. And it’s time for the reckoning.

This blog is not a polished memoir.
It is not vengeance.
It is not chaos.

It is a living, breathing truth release.

 The Truth Behind the Door

Some of what I will share may be graphic. Some may be messy, nonlinear, and hard to digest. But every memory, every crack, every piece is part of the real story.

I will tell it from a mother’s heart.
From a survivor’s soul.
From a woman reclaiming her voice—for the first, and perhaps the last, time.

This is not about blame.

This is about understanding the root system of what destroys families from within:
Shame. Control. Learned pain. Repeated cycles.
It passes down through silence and secrecy—and I will not allow that to continue with my children.

Acknowledging All Sides

As I unfold these truths, I want you to know:

I will also speak with empathy—even for the offender. Not to excuse him. But because I have seen the little boy inside the man, and I know what unhealed pain can become.

This is not a story of "us versus them."
It’s a reckoning with the systems, mindsets, and generational dysfunctions that create both victims and perpetrators—unless someone finally stops the cycle.

I am stopping it now.

The Direction I Will Repeat Often

You will see this theme again and again as I write:

I do not need pity.
I do not need saving.
I have grace.

Because God opened my eyes.
Because I have chosen healing.
Because I am no longer afraid of the truth.

I am not a victim.
I am a survivor.

This is not just my story—
This is a revolution.

 A Final Word

Whatever happens to me next… I know this:
I have already started something that cannot be undone.
A ripple of reckoning.
A movement of truth.
A revolution of healing.

This is The Reckoning.
This is my story.
This is my anchor.
And I will leave the light on for the next soul who needs to find the door out.

You are not alone.
And you are so deeply loved.

me


Pieces of Her: Death to Life

 

Comments

Post a Comment

Stay Alive. You are loved. You are wanted. You are needed. Keep going. I believe in You. love you, Desert Rose.

Popular posts from this blog

Precatio

-
Image
  Precatio (Latin for “Prayer”) A Call to Prayer, Compassion, and Awakening Quote “Some cries are too deep for language. So we pray in sound— and let the ache become a call.” Scripture “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.” — Matthew 5:9 Reflection Precatio is a call to prayer. It is not loud in volume— but it is loud in spirit. This piece was created in the quiet ache of witnessing great suffering, and finalized in response to the deepening anguish in the Middle East— particularly for the women and children facing starvation, fear, and loss. The music itself is a cry — a slow, mournful trumpet woven with reflective drums. A beat that marches with grief, yet carries the weight of hope. It is both gentle and fierce. Tender and unshakable. This is not a distant observation. It is an invitation: Feel this as if it were your own. Because in the eyes of compassion, it is. Precatio calls the soul into awareness— to pra...
Read more

Soup for the Soul — Hands Through the Wall- Aug8 2025

-
Image
Welcome to tonight’s Soul Soup — a place to rest, reflect, and feel loved. This story is for the ones who have learned to love without walls, who find beauty in brokenness, and who keep reaching through the cracks in their hearts. Hands Through the Wall Sometimes love looks like this — two people on opposite sides of a wall, still finding the tiniest gap to hold hands through. Not because it’s easy. Not because it’s perfect. But because the bond matters more than the bricks between them. To my sister. To my momma. You have met me in that space, even when life has left us tired, hurting, or unsure. You have taken the rawest pieces of me — the messy, tear-soaked, laughing-in-the-fire kind of truth — and held them like treasures. Not polished. Not hidden. Just held. And that holding has been a kind of resurrection. It has brought me back to life in moments I thought were too far gone. It has given me the courage to face the next chapter, and the grace to believe that even broken storie...
Read more

Protector’s Reflection: The Watcher with the Coffee Cup

-
Image
  Protector’s Reflection: The Watcher with the Coffee Cup by RedRose EmeraldzCity I’ve always been that person. The one who watches quietly while others play. Not because I can’t have fun— but because my brain has already run every scenario. Every risk. Every emergency. I’m the one sipping coffee while mentally executing ten rescue plans, praying under my breath, steady as a lighthouse. It used to bother me. Now I’ve accepted it. This is what it means to be a protector. To carry peace—but stay ready. To look calm—but know the storm inside is trained and listening. “The Lord is my strength and my defense; He has become my salvation.” — Psalm 118:14 (NIV) Protector’s Prayer for the ones who guard what is sacred God of Light, I come not in fear, but in fire. I ask not for ease, but for endurance. Let me stand when others scatter. Let me see what others miss. Teach my hands to build—and to battle. Train my ears to hear the warnings before the world falls si...
Read more