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Below is an Interactive Board sampler. A fuller listing is found in the "Stories" menu above.

4/14 Interactive Board: Codependent Partners

3/23 Interactive Board: He's Changing... I'm Not...

3/1 Interactive Board: D/s Lifestyle

1/14 Interactive Board: My Purrrfect Husband

12/12 Interactive Board: What if He Could Have Changed?

10/23 Interactive Board: Quandary Revisited

8/24 Interactive Board: Quandary! What's Going On?

7/20: Dr. Irene on cognitive behavior therapy and mindfulness

6/12 Interactive Board: Unintentional Abuse

11/7 Interactive Board: Is This Abusive?

12/29 Interactive Board: There Goes the Wife...

11/4 Interactive Board: A New Me!

10/8 Interactive Board: Seeming Impossibility

9/8 Interactive Board: My Ex MisTreats Our Son

5/1 Interactive Board: I feel Dead - Towards Him

4/26 Interactive Board: Why is This So Hard?

4/19 Interactive Board: I Lost My Love...

4/7 Interactive Board: Too Guilty!

Poem: Where Do I Go From Here?

Where do I go from here? 

by Rhoda  

Also, see Winter and The Shores of My Soul by Rhoda

where do i go from here


where do i go from now


how i want my heart to warm within me

to experience love and friendship

to be known by another from the

inside out


for my thoughts to be explored,

respected, adored for being

uniquely, quirkily, me


how i want to be strong within myself

to feel that i will survive, happy

even if i am alone


so i will turn to my God, rely on him

build my faith, build my love from

the inside out


and He will be my strength

if i let him


may the tears wash me clean

if they will fall

but that means i will have to feel the pain

and that scares me


because for all of my life 

my pain has been numbed

who was there to ease it, anyway


not a sick mother

not the absent father

not the dead grandparents

not the estranged siblings


so the little girl i was

never got to live her childhood

i was my own comfortor

i was the comfortor for the

sick mother


but i knew not how to comfort myself

i never saw love and affection

up close, lived with it in my life


what do i remember

i remember being two or three

and hearing screams


i remember the ambulance

coming for my mother, my father having hurt her


i remember my sisters holding me

playing with me, talking with me

but not my mother


i remember a young man molesting me

i was three, maybe four

i didn't even know what he asked

was abuse


i remember mother too sick to stand

taking her water, another blanket

finding my own meals

putting myself to bed


reading, oh, how i would read

i lived another existence through

the sweet escape afforded by reading


i grew older, anguished into adolesence

longed for a boy to care for me

to be well liked, well dressed

but caged by poverty


so i worked for my own clothes

lied about my age

and that summer bought clothes

and groceries



was liked by a boy

but he was a black boy

and i liked his white friend, desperately

so the kind young friend i

held away as only a friend

and now regret not seeing then

how dear he was, how i could have

known love, young love


later another boy

but this one i wasn't me with

and it caught up to me

how i molded myself into what i thought

he wanted


i ended that


but did it again

changed myself for another boy

kept my thoughts to myself

when he was displeased with my words

my ideas

and the tiredness in my soul set in


how he could rage, barrage me with words

wear me down, take away my spunk

and he lashed out physically

from his own sickness


but i took the blows, the bruises, the soreness

and thus perperuated the whole madness

i forgave the unforgivable and

so lived it over again and again


and with this boy

i grew older, had a baby girl

had another baby girl

and then knew that the madness

had to end


i quietly planned, packed and

drove away, far away

with my two babies

away from the screaming, the hurtful hands

i wouldn't let my babies grow up

seeing their mommy hurt like that


i went to the house of my God

and found help, kindness, a warm place

to lay my head, holding my babies

while i tried to plan my life


but i believed the boy's promises and apologies

so i returned, to make my life over

with the father of my babies


and he changed enough for me

convince myself to stay

no more hurtful hands, just hurtful


just a complete and utter loneliness

for nine more years


my babies are turning into young women now

and i am trying to turn into a woman

in my heart

picking up the pieces of the girl


fitting meaning into the pieces


so now i see the weakness, the sadness

seeing is the first step to changing

feeling is the first step to healing

but the healing brings pain, too


but the strength will be there

strength from Jehovah

strength from my dearest friends

strength from my daughters


and i will survive


i will be happy inside of myself




See Rhoda's email here