Jayneen Sanders, author of, “Some Secrets Should Never Be Kept,” visited our (yours and mine) humble, little blog the other day and commented, “The more we have voices like yours to speak out, the more parents and teachers will educate kids on sexual abuse prevention education. Well done!” On behalf of the blog, I would like to say, “Thank you! It’s an honor.”

Not only did she comment, but she provided an excellent tool for parents and/or teachers to use in combating sexual abuse and preventing such atrocities. Ms. Sanders book, “Some Secrets Should Never Be Kept,” is about a little boy, Sir Alfred©, who is a victim of sexual abuse. It is not just the tale of a boy, but instead is told like a fairy-tale, which all children love to hear (I, myself, love a good fairy-tale), but can also relate to, as Sir Alfred© is a child himself. I read the book and was enthralled with it the entire time. It not only held my interest, but if read to a child or if a child reads it him/herself, I believe that he/she will feel more comfortable about opening up and telling their ‘secret.’ That’s what we want, right? We want children who have and who are enduring such trials to have a way out, a person to confide in, and a path to healing. Telling the ‘secret’ is the first step, so let’s help them take it.

I want to preface my next sentence by saying that I do not earn any royalties off of the purchase of this book, nor do I have any monetary, vested interest in the sale of the book. However, I do have a vested interest in abused children, and I do believe that this book is an excellent tool to help them. The book is available for purchase at www.somesecrets.info, and is available as a stand-alone purchase, or as a teacher’s stand-alone purchase, or as a package deal with both the book and the teacher’s package, with prices starting at $13.59. All purchases are directed through PayPal for your security, which I thought was a good thing. 🙂

In addition to the actual books and teacher’s packages, you can hear the reading of the book on You Tube! The reading is done by Debra Byrne, and she does an absolutely awesome job in portraying the characters and letting you feel what poor, little, Sir Alfred must have felt. Even if you do not want to purchase the books, please listen to the reading, at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4YjJ1MreZqs. I guarantee that you will be satisfied and thoroughly impressed with the book and the reading. 

Parents, Teachers, Audience, we need to help our children. Don’t let them become victims, and if they do, don’t let them stay that way. Let’s teach them about good touch and bad touch. Let’s teach them that painful ‘secrets’ should never be kept. Let’s teach them how to survive so that they do just that. I tell my story so that others may learn from it, so that maybe another child won’t have to go through and endure the things that I have. I hope that you all take heed and help support the cause. Spread the word! Share the healing!




The First Step…Together!

Posted: November 5, 2012 in You're Not Alone!


I’ve received an overwhelming response to this blog. I cannot express how happy I am that not only are people reading it, but that they are also inspired by my story and given hope for healing and rejuvenation.

The only drawback that I realized after posting my story, was that even though hundreds of people have read the purpose of the blog and the beginning of my story, they have not found the courage to tell their story…even to me. This revelation proves how strong and how binding the baggage of sexual abuse is on a victim. It shows just how filthy and enormous our dirty, little secret is. It saddens me greatly, but does not deter me. In fact, it makes me that much more determined to effect change and help others like myself to begin to heal.

The first step to healing is TELLING THE SECRET! Secrets, by nature, provide stress. Think for an instance about a surprise party. If you are the host of or involved in the planning of a surprise party, you have to keep it a secret from the person the party is for. Think about how difficult it is to hold onto the secret…how hard it is not to tell the person about it or to hold onto those key details that keep the ‘secret’ a ‘secret.’ A surprise party is a happy time, and it is very exciting to think about how happy the person will be when they know what you planned, how much work went into it, how many people arrive and support them, and how cool the decorations look. But holding the ‘secret’ is stressful, right? So, how much more baggage would a bad ‘secret’ weigh you down. A ‘secret’ that not only do you not want anyone to know, but you NEVER intend to tell. You hold onto this heavy baggage day after day, month after month, year after year. How long can a person hold onto that type of stress, that much heavy baggage and still remain healthy, physically, emotionally, spiritually? Think about it. Getting rid of the baggage that you never should have taken ownership of is the first step to lightening your load and unbinding your subconscious self. It is your first step to becoming a complete person. It is your first step to stripping the victim mentality to uncover the survivor in you.

I understand if you cannot respond to my story, my posts, my blog in general because you don’t feel comfortable telling your secret. Don’t feel guilty about that! Don’t feel bad! It is perfectly normal. Who wants the world to know that they’ve shed the baggage and have unearthed their vulnerabilities? I get it! I used to be the same way. It is just now that I can come forward without guilt, shame or apprehension and tell the world my dirty, little ‘secret.’ I don’t want it to be a ‘secret’ anymore! I am no longer a victim…I am a SURVIVOR! So, instead of saying nothing, say something to me directly at elise@naughtnotions.com. We can talk. We can chat. We can cry. We can be angry. But either way, we heal…TOGETHER.



The Beginning of My Story

Posted: November 4, 2012 in You're Not Alone!

Hello, again! I’m Elise, a survivor of childhood sexual abuse and adolescent sexual assault and this is the beginning of my story.

I was approximately three years old when I was first abused (to my recollection). Both of my parents worked full-time; therefore, I was subject to childcare as millions of other children are these days. My mother was not an irresponsible parent, as she fully researched who would care for me and their credentials and references. I was her first-born child, and it was important that whomever cared for me in her stead would treat me well and care for me as she would.

My mother met Hazel, a small-framed, mulatto woman that lived about 20 minutes from our home. Hazel had years of experience as a childcare provider, several community references and a nice home where I would go during the days. Mom carefully interviewed Hazel, inspected her home, and performed an unscheduled visit to ensure that Hazel was on the up-and-up, so to speak. Hazel was all that she seemed, and my mother decided that this was a very good place for me.

As young as I was, I remember Hazel’s house to a tee! I remember that when you walked in the door you were standing in the family room, as Hazel didn’t have a formal living room. The family room had an old-style, box television, a missionary style, rectangular coffee table, and a psychedelic, floral couch covered in plastic as many African-American homes did back in the 70’s. Once you went through the living room, you reached the dining room, which held Hazel’s kitchen table due to her kitchen being very small. The house, in general, was small by comparison. Hazel had three bedrooms and one bath. One of the three bedrooms was for Hazel’s father who was bedridden. A hospital-style bed and many machines were in the room, but the smell alone kept my toddler curiosity at bay. The other two bedrooms were for Hazel and then for her son, who was a teenager at the time, if I recall. Hazel’s son, name unknown, kept to himself and often remained in his dark room with the door shut during the day.

I don’t remember the specific day…the specific time…the specific season, that I was raped. I don’t even remember what Hazel’s son looked like, which is strange when I think about it due to the fact that I remember EVERYTHING else, including the smell of the old man’s room. I look back now, and Hazel’s ‘no-name’ son is just a large, black silhouette…not due to his skin complexion, but just a blocked image in an already over-crowded mind, I assume. What I remember is that Hazel’s ‘no-name’ son took my hand guiding me into his room, shutting the door behind us. I felt scared, but now I know not why. I felt confused, too, but again I cannot explain the exact causation behind that feeling. The next thing I remember is the black silhouette laying me on the floor, and I felt a pain so unimaginable that I still am unable to describe it.

In my mind, the day skips to night, and I am at home, safe with my parents and in need of a bathroom break. I told my mom I had to “tee-tee” (that was the way my grandmother taught me to say I had to take a leak…lol). My mom walked with me to the bathroom, sat me on the toilet, and when I tried to urinate it hurt so badly I wouldn’t go. I remember telling my mom that I couldn’t go because it hurt. Again, my mind skips, and the next memory is later that evening in Children’s Hospital Emergency. I can’t tell you anymore than that, because the remainder is completely blocked, but my mom remembers that the doctors “refused to say” what caused the problem, and just catheterized me to make me go.

We have to think, that this is back in 1976…sexual abuse was that dirty, little secret that no one spoke of…including medical professionals. They could have told my mother and father that I was raped, because undoubtedly they knew; however, they let things remain unveiled and sent me back home and inevitably back to my abuser. I cannot tell you if this happened more than once, because unfortunately (or fortunately…depending on perspective) I cannot remember. But what I do know is that my dirty, little secret is out now to millions of people. It is no longer a secret, as it is my first step to empowerment…my first step to healing…my first step to discarding the baggage that was left with me that I did not own.

Now that you know one of my stories, what do you think? How do you feel about my story? Do you have a story to tell? If you do, I can add it to my blog anonymously and you can take your ‘first step’ not alone, but with me at your back. As the blog becomes viral, you won’t just have me, you will have millions of supporters at your back to help you take your walk to finding yourself once again. What’s your secret?

If you would like to email me your story, feel free to at elise@naughtnotions.com. Your private information will remain such unless you tell me specifically to use your first name. I appreciate you taking the time to read my story, or the beginning I should say. Thank you.