When you're broken, all you want is to believe.
To believe that there are adults in your life who are trustworthy and will take care of, protect you and not harm you.
That's what we believed when my sister and I were children, what our mom believed. Shame, resentment and anger years later that almost led to a vengeful incident.
Almost.
And then the most recent sad news: The charges against ex-Penn State coach Jerry Sandusky include:
40 charges of sexual abuse involving at least eight alleged victims and spanning 15 years, beginning in 1994.
This from supposedly helping kids from The Second Mile organization, many from single-parent homes and in need of another adult in their lives.
When you're broken, all you want is to believe you can be safe.
Sure, the charges are alleged until proven, but we've seen similar stories over the years, all involving men and women in positions of power and beloved trust, sometimes even in the name of God, supposedly helping the broken young ones (and those who aren't even broken, yet), but then abusing that power while abusing the children.
A report of child abuse is made every ten seconds. And that's only what's reported. Statistically speaking, child abuse occurs at every socioeconomic level, across ethnic and cultural lines, within all religions and at all levels of education.
Tragic. It hurts my heart when I hear these things. I've been there and we'll do whatever it takes to protect our girls.
The Mama's been teaching Beatrice what's appropriate and what's not with other older kids and adults -- language, touching, etc.
And then just last week, we thought Bea might have a urinary tract infection and the Mama took her our doctor. Of course the doctor had to check out her private parts, and Bea was very quiet, watching Mama the whole time.
The eye-lock trust reassured Beatrice that this was appropriate and the doctor was only seeing if she sick.
So there you go, girl:
"What do you do if someone is doing something to you they shouldn't be?"
"Stop!"
Or Mama and Daddy will mop the floor with you and other colorful expressions you'd rather not experience first hand.
Nobody messes with the B-hive, baby. Nobody.
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