I was 11 years old. My friend, Donna, invited me to her house one afternoon after school. She said “Some of my mom’s friends are in the basement. Want to come down to meet them?”
“Sure!” I replied, and went downstairs with her.
I went down into that dark, smoky room, where a man my mother’s age put his hands all over my body. Frozen in fear, I sat there, not knowing what to do.
I never said a word. I believed it was my fault for saying yes.
In 7th grade (I was 12) while attending a Seventh Day Adventist school (very religious), I went into the woods behind our school with my friend Ricky so we could play hide and seek. Four boys from my class came into the woods and decided they wanted to feel me up.
I fought them. They ripped my blouse as I rolled around on my stomach on the ground trying to keep them from doing it. My skirt rolled up as I vainly fought them off.
Ricky watched from the side and said “Just let them do it, Anne, then they’ll go away.”
I refused. They laughed and ganged up on me, groping and grabbing. I kept crying “no!!!” over and over. Finally, when they were done, they went away.
I didn’t speak to Ricky again for a long time. How can you speak to someone who just stood by and watched?
I got the worst case ever of poison ivy on my stomach, legs and chest. My mother took me to the emergency room for treatment, telling the doctor “She must have gotten it from holding her cat after he brushed up against some poison ivy outside.”
I didn’t tell them any different, even when the doctor looked at her strangely.
When I got back to school, those boys passed me in the hall, snickering “Where’d you get the poison ivy, Anne?”
I thought I’d die from shame.
I didn’t report what they had done. I never told anyone. I didn’t report it because I thought it was my fault because I had been in the woods that day.
That’s how we think when something happens to us: that it’s our fault because ___. But it wasn’t my fault. Neither of those incidents were my fault.
As a woman watching the events of the past two years (ever since the Access Hollywood tape in 2016), I’ve had to do a ton of my own emotional clearing on memories of sexual abuse. I wish I could say these were the only two incidents of sexual abuse in my life. They weren’t; there were others, none of which I reported. To anyone.
The shame that we carry from sexual abuse is very pervasive. We think it’s our own fault. We think we are the ones who invited it in. We think we are to blame for what someone else did, for their choices.
If I didn’t have tapping, I honestly don’t know where I’d be. Tapping has helped me not only heal the original traumas, but also cope with the re-traumatization that I’ve experienced watching our country go through what it’s been going through the past two years.
When I share about how tapping changed everything in my life, this is just one example of how it helped me clear the beliefs that the abuse was my fault. Tapping cleared the shame.
When we become aware of how traumas of the past affect our lives of today (including our businesses), then clearing those traumas – and the beliefs that spring up about ourselves (like “I deserved it because I shouldn’t have said yes”) – becomes not only a no-brainer, but an essential part of emotional health.
When we become aware of how those beliefs that resulted from those traumas affect our ability to create clients or generate money in our business (or our lives), then again, clearing them becomes not only a no-brainer, but essential for the health of our businesses.
Clearing limiting beliefs is crucial for us
to be able to become who we have come to be
and to do what we have come to do.
Next week, I’m offering a free class to learn about tapping and how it can help you get the clients you deserve. Yes, deserve.
If you aren’t getting the clients you want, then you’ll want to be on this call.
Tuesday, October 2nd at 1 pm Eastern
Clients at Your Fingertips
Get an Abundance of Ideal Clients
with this One Simple Technique!
I hope I see you there.