Five Years

This past week marked five years since I published "Kisses From Dolce: A Book for Children About Trusting and Telling." Launched with events both in Massachusetts and Connecticut, my little self-published book was off to an exciting, meaningful start. I had, and still do have, great support from so many people.

Not long after the book's release, I received an interview request from reporter Eileen Fischer of The Connecticut Post.  With an illustrated front page teaser that featured my main character, Sophia, the resultant article was everything I had hoped it would be. You can read my original post about that article here.  My interview with Eileen was quite extensive, yet I found myself floored when I read these words:

"three years ago, during one of her frequent visits to Fairfield, where she grew up, Hausman met a sweet Italian greyhound named Dolce, that changed her life."

"That changed her life!" Wasn't that a bit dramatic, I'd thought? After all, I'd never used those words, not in the interview or anywhere else. Ever. But, as time wore on and, especially now, from this 5 year vantage point, I believe she'd been correct. Though I'd already spent years fighting the good prevention fight, partnering with Darkness To Light and educating hundreds of adults, "Kisses From Dolce" broadened my path considerably: new people, new programs, new initiatives. Not to mention what it had brought to my own healing journey. When the book's words tumbled out of me and I read them aloud, I understood them immediately as a metaphor for my own road. That is its own incredible story.

So now, here I was, helping others not just to prevent, but to feel courageous enough to stand up and speak out. Clearly, Ms. Fischer had heard in my story that which I could not yet recognize.

As months passed, there were reading events, speaking engagements, interviews by a variety of media. I was approached, often, by survivors eager to move along the prevention/response message and, often, also, to soothe themselves. Numerous people bought multiple copies, usually to distribute to community venues - libraries, schools, doctor's offices - but also to their loved ones. I noticed a heightened sensibility from older survivors regarding their youngest family members. They wanted to offer what had never been offered to them: a voice. They still do.

I documented many of the precious experiences I had in the wake of the book's release here on the blog:

http://kissesfromdolce.blogspot.com/search?updated-min=2009-01-01T00:00:00-05:00&updated-max=2010-01-01T00:00:00-05:00&max-results=50

http://kissesfromdolce.blogspot.com/search?updated-min=2010-01-01T00:00:00-05:00&updated-max=2011-01-01T00:00:00-05:00&max-results=31

But, to this day, one of the deepest, most meaningful post-publication moments came when a young girl, no older than 10 or 11, came up to me after a speaking event, while I was signing books. I knew she'd been gifted a copy in weeks prior as the purchaser had received permission from the girl's mother both to purchase and for me to inscribe. The young lady approached, and, suddenly, with a ferocity that belied her lithe build, she grabbed me and hugged me... and hugged and hugged and hugged. To this day I can recall the intensity. No words were uttered; no words were necessary. THIS was the quintessential expression of why "Kisses From Dolce."

I had always said when creating the book that if it helped just one child, one person, it would have been worth it. There truly are no adequate words to capture where the book and the surrounding experiences resonate with me. In fact, I began a draft of this post two weeks ago, in anticipation of the anniversary; it's taken edit after edit to come even somewhat close to my intention.

All I know is this: that little doggie, that little slurp, the inspiration and tenacity to make the book a reality, the overwhelming compassion and support - both before and after publication - the response in the years since "Kisses From Dolce's" release are a continual reminder of why...and purpose...life's challenges and mysteries. It's been an awesome journey. It for sure has changed my life...and I will forever be grateful. Thank you all.

"Kisses From Dolce: A Book for Children About Trusting and Telling" is available for purchase at Amazon or directly from me at KissesFromDolce@gmail.com.

Sentencing Day

"The crime is not only what you did to their bodies but to their psyches and their souls and the assault to the well-being of the larger community in which we all live." - Judge John Cleland.
 

And so many who knew did nothing...

http://usnews.nbcnews.com/_news/2012/10/09/14315772-jerry-sandusky-gets-30-to-60-years-for-child-sex-abuse 

"My Heart Sang"

It's been the rare post for me that professes the emotion of loss and longing, regret and reconciliation. I do here. I've sat with this poem for quite a while; now, with the end of Child Abuse Prevention Month, I've decided to share it. Moving ahead, through fear and grief, acknowledging their presence and place along my road, has allowed me to embrace the joys of the heart, even when, long ago, expressing and recognizing that joy was impossible. That, in fact, is one of the reasons I work so hard for abuse prevention; every child deserves to grow up happy and whole, able to fully embrace the vast experiences of life without looking back in regret.
So today, recognizing what woke my senses and had me feeling alive, I honor what my heart held...and I am grateful for it.

My Heart Sang

My heart sang

when he sat with me,

if only for a little while.

I loved his face, his hands, his long, beautiful legs,

the sound of his voice.

We could talk about nothing much

or get on some political bent.

It didn’t matter.

Whatever it was –

the thought of him, the feel of his arm next to mine,

that he chose to be with me for a little while –

it made my heart sing.

I wanted to dance, too,

but I couldn’t.

That wasn't to be.

No song to sing, seven-year-old me cowered deep within.

Aching.

Frozen.

Afraid.

I have to make my peace with that

and say goodbye.

It’s too late.

Long over.

That young man - he’ll always make me want to sing and dance,

that’s just how it is.

I’m too tired to fight it anymore.

It just is.

That other man – the heart-piercing, soul-squelcher of that little girl –

because of him, I missed my dance.

And yet, all these years later, still, there is joy for when

my heart sang.

My Little Muse

So many children ask me about the "real" Dolce, the little Italian Greyhound who served as inspiration for "Kisses From Dolce."  Well, here he is! If I've learned nothing else on this journey, I've learned that there are gifts in unexpected places, gifts that can uplift and inspire, enriching our lives and offering purpose. Who knew that one little slurp from an otherwise engaged little hound would lead me where it has, enabling me to share lessons with children and offering hope and comfort to survivors, young and old? The road to "Dolce" wasn't easy, but it was filled with gifts, and gifts that continue still, and for that I am truly grateful.

Tuesday night was the Connecticut launch for "Kisses From Dolce" and what a night it was! Friends, family, therapists, educators...you name it, they were there, supporting me and my effort, and, most importantly, combatting CSA.

Child sexual abuse is so rampant, so pervasive, crossing cultural, ethnic, religious and racial lines, that it is rare for me to be anywhere where I am not approached by someone who has a story to share. These adult survivors seem glad to be able to finally tell, some never having told before. Tuesday evening, despite the positive, upbeat tenor of the event, was no exception.

One woman pointed to the line in the book, "I don't want to be touched" and said to me it had taken her years to tell. And she didn't tell just me; what had once been a shameful secret was now something about which she could openly express herself and, especially, her disgust with her abuser. Letting go of the shame is not easy but getting to that place is liberating and healing.

Hope is the name of the game, folks, and that's what we're here for. The No Secrets No Shame "Kisses From Dolce" healing train has started on its track and, I hope, it will keep on rolling for a long time to come! Thanks.

Getting here, to this place, has been a long road and one I have not traveled alone. Though there have been moments, even hours, sometimes, of solitude, I have had some of the best support a person could ask for. Friends, family and compassionate, insightful professionals have helped bolster me to make it to the next mile markers every step of my healing journey.

And that is why we're here. This is not just my place, but it is your place, too. Whether or not you've read "Kisses From Dolce," it doesn't matter. Just that you have found your way here, to a place where you can share, in the way you need to share, is all that matters. Whether you are a survivor or supporter, this place is for you.

For me, there have been joys and sorrows, highs and lows, fears and challenges that have made my road to healing rich, raw and real and it is still unfolding. The people by my side have been true friends, allowing me to be where I am at any given moment, supporting me when I was ready for the next steps and challenging me to believe in me, love myself and have the confidence any truly happy, authentic person needs for a full, rich, meaningful life.

"Kisses From Dolce" was a labor of love, truly inspired, and seeing it through to publication was an amalgam of every challenge I've faced and met on my road. If "KFD" helps even one little person find his or her voice and speak up to get help, I've done my job.
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