New Year – New Happenings!!

As the New Year approaches, I wanted update everyone on the goings-on in my publishing life, and other exciting news!

FIRST – I received a publishing contract from Extasy Books for an erotic comedy series – THE HARDER’S. I will be glad to reach a wider audience with this series and all the stories have been revamped, so very excited about this. I will keep everyone updated on release dates and covers!img-man-reading

SECOND – I have always dreamed of combining my gymnastics talents with my newfound passion of martial arts and with Ancient Design, along with my dear friend and teaching partner, Kelly​ Whelan-Enns, our school is taking off with Women’s Self defence classses, our Academie Jacques Levinet training, and kids kung fu and tumbling classes. I’m also teaching gymnastics at Panthers Gym club here where I live and I love it!

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(photo taken at Straight to the Point Acupuncture in Winnipeg, Manitoba)

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THIRD – here’s an excerpt from Sins of the Father, book 3 in the Sin City series. Please remember: this excerpt is UNEDITED!! This is another hot BDSM erotic romance. This will be the final book for that series, and if you visit my website, you can read excerpts, and check out buy links for the first two on the Books page. I’m working hard to get this book out for the New Year, so stay tuned!!

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! WISHING YOU ALL THE BEST FOR 2016!!!

EXCERPT:
“I know.” He cuddled her close to him once more. She allowed him to pull her close, even though her body remained rigid. “It’s a gift I treasure.”
“Then what do you need from me?” she asked, her voice soft.
He considered for a moment before speaking. “To listen. To consider that once this is over, we continue a personal relationship.”
“I see.”
Silence descended, and he waited for her to speak. Long moments passed.
“There’s just one problem.” Her voice sounded sad when she spoke.
He combed back some of her hair, and placed a kiss to the top of her head. “And what’s that?”
“You’ve rescued me. I don’t want a white knight. I never have. I’ve prided myself on being able to take care of myself. How do I ever accept that you swept in and saved me when I couldn’t save myself?” Sobs began to wrack her body again.
Perplexed, Saul held her close, allowing her to cry again. They certainly held differing perspectives on the current situation. While he viewed her with an inner strength he’d seen in few people, she saw herself as weak because she’d gotten in trouble and hadn’t known how to ask for help. While there were many things he could give to her, she had to figure this one out on her own.
When her sobs subsided, he held her away from him, thumbs brushing away her tears. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. “No,” she sobbed. “You need to understand. I have been drawn to you since the night we met. I didn’t want to be. Yes, it’s part me being stubborn, but it’s also a matter of me knowing I can take care of myself. Da Silva wanted to hurt me, I ran away because I didn’t know who to turn to or what to do. Then you showed up and rescued me. How will I ever feel safe on my own again?” He tried to speak again, but she interrupted him, continuing to rant. “I care for you, Saul. I have trusted you to be my Sir under the circumstances. What if something happens to you at work? What if you have to go away? I don’t like being vulnerable like this. I don’t want to lo—” She stopped short at her own revelation, and struggled to get away from him.
“You don’t want to feel love because you’re afraid it’s not real.”
Fear shone in her eyes. “What if it’s not?”
He held her firm, and stared directly into her eyes. “Maybe it’s a matter of your perspective.”
“What are you talking about?” Desperation tinged her voice.
“You fled because you didn’t know who to turn to, or who to trust, but that’s not true. You trusted your parents and went to them. When I arrived, you chose to trust me. You didn’t expect me to save you. You made a choice, Denise.” He observed her swallow hard as she allowed his words to sink in. He continued, “You chose to ask me to fulfill your needs. You chose to talk to me about everything. Some of the circumstances happened without your consent, but you have made your own choices on what to do about it. Not everything has been out of your control. Loving me isn’t—it’s a choice.”
One corner of her mouth twitched up in a sad, half-smile. “Love doesn’t always feel like a choice. It kind of hits you right in the heart when you least expect it.”
His smile widened. “True. I’ll give you that.” He caressed her cheeks with his thumbs. “But it is a choice on what we want to do with the love we feel for someone.”
She closed her eyes, her voice barely audible when she spoke. “I really don’t want to run away.”
“Me either.”
Opening her eyes, she studied his features, her fingers playing with his goatee again. “So, what do we do?”
He drew in a fortifying breath. There’d be no guarantee it would work, but like anything in life, certain risks were worth taking. “I have an idea, but I can’t guarantee you’ll like it.”
Her jaw set in determination. “Let’s hear it.”

(c)2015 December Kellie Kamryn

Peaceful Reflection

Sitting outside by the light of the moon,
All is still, quiet, and I know very soon,
As I breathe deep, crisp air fills my lungs,
And the magical journey has just begun;
The Universe without, reflects the divine within,
Such beauty and awe to experience time and again,
All is ever changing, an end is simply the start,
A chance for Love and Peace to reside in my Heart.
Entering into a new dimension,
Free from strife, worry, and tension,
No longer a mere will to survive,
A renewed purpose and space to thrive.
~Kellie Kamryn, 2015
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The Art of Imperfection

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Once upon a time, I was a competitive gymnast…

These days my inner gymnast is disguised as a mom of four, author, narrator, and all round good person. I can still perform cartwheels, handstands, round offs, flips on trampoline, and the splits, which make the guys at the training gym groan. (Mostly because I think they have to learn something they find difficult that I learned a long time ago. Or perhaps they’re thinking that whoever the man sleeping in my bed is—he’s a lucky bastard. And really, most nights it’s my youngest son whom has woken from a nightmare, so no hanky panky there. But I digress…)

During a conversation with a friend, I told him that I wasn’t interested in achieving physical perfection. He said I balked at the very idea because of the experiences I had as a gymnast. And you know what? He was right.

While I never developed an eating disorder as some of my comrades did, I had experiences that shaped the way I negatively saw my body, and exercise in general. When I was thirteen, a coach told me and my parents that I needed to grow my hair long and get contact lenses so I would look “pretty” and this would help boost my career as a gymnast. Notice how none of this had anything to do with my physical abilities or gymnastic talent. I received the message that in order to be successful, I had to be beautiful, and clearly, according to others, I did not measure up. I judged myself by the standards of others, and found myself lacking.

At the age of thirteen – well see picture above.  In the span of a year, I transformed myself by growing my hair long, and getting rid of the glasses. And it worked. Suddenly, I had all sorts of validation from friends, to fellow gymnasts, coaches, and boys at school. I was beautiful, therefore, I would be successful. Right?

Fast forward a few years to when my career ended. I didn’t make the Olympic team as most thought I might, even though I worked hard. Plagued with injuries, I wondered if I’d even aspired to that.  So many wanted me to “make it”, I lost sight of what I wanted. At that point, I felt I’d let down everyone in my life who had tried to make that dream a reality. Talk about carrying guilt.

In university, most of my gymnast friends became fitness competitors, and some girls joined our ranks because they wanted to be like the “beautiful gymnastics girls.” I kind of feel sorry for the image we portrayed, as if by being “one of us” you were automatically cool. An image is just that—a fantasy we portray to the world because our inner world doesn’t measure up. And that’s how I felt for many years.

Upon graduation, you’d think that with my physical education and kinesiology background, and my overachieving ways, I would once again strive to be the epitome of physical perfection. The fact now I have cover models and fitness industry professionals for friends, perhaps I should strive to achieve the outward appearance of physical fitness I feel modern society is obsessed with. To be honest, I used to. After the birth of my first and second children, I did manage to get back to a good weight for me. I worked out hard and ate right. When I found out I was pregnant with our third, while elated at the news, a part of me was upset that I would have to go through this all again, only to achieve my goal weight afterward. Talk about pressure, guilt, and anxiety all rolled into what should have been a beautiful experience. (This is covered in another article.)

After being diagnosed with post-partum depression at the same time as being told I was pregnant with my fourth child, I decided to give up the quest for physical perfection. After a life time of seeking validation outside of myself, I chose to go inward and love myself exactly the way I was.

After the birth of my son, I stopped exercising as if I was exorcising the Devil himself from my body. I chose to start loving every inch of me just the way it was, even though according to my doctor, I was thirty pounds overweight. I carried that weight for a reason. I was insecure, I wanted people to love me, I was anxious, and most importantly—I didn’t love myself.

Over time and with emotional healing, I learned to love me—every stretch-marked inch, both lopsided small breasts, my great calves and muscular shoulders, my soft belly my youngest calls my “squishy”, the roll of skin left over from the C-section, the near-sightedness of my green-hazel eyes, my smile, cute feet, jiggly thighs, curvy hips, and flat butt.

This isn’t to say I didn’t exercise at all. Over the past few years, instead of being obsessed with physical perfection, I learned to listen to myself. I found exercises that were gentle yet effective, I took up martial arts, I stretch every day, and I cut out all sugar from my diet for a few months. I learned that I didn’t have to kill myself through exercise to be healthy, and that physical perfection doesn’t mean you’re healthy in mind, body or spirit. And if loving myself means that I eat better, exercise more, and I happen to achieve what the outside world deems as a “nice body”, then so be it. A “perfect body” isn’t something I’m striving for. Being healthy is.

Once I stopped seeking validation for myself from other people, I learned to love ME. In fact, I like that my body is not “perfect”. From time to time, I put on a bit of weight, but this is usually at a time in my life when I’m feeling insecure or anxious about something. I know that with time, and when I go inside to discover the source of my insecurity, the weight will drop when I no longer need my “squishy armor” of protection.

Earlier this year, I was asked to “play up the pretty” in order to sell my books. I had mixed feelings on this because I want readers to read my material because they like it, not because of the way I look. I realize that a “package” sells a product, which is obvious from companies who mass market products from supplements, exercise equipment, teeth whitening agents, to romance books. Sexy to me is a state of mind, not necessarily what I−or anyone else−look like on the outside. Sexy is an attitude. While I choose to post nice pictures of myself for covers and social media, I also portray the real “me” as much as possible in my articles, and through what I post in public forums.

I told this story to my oldest daughter who is now sixteen. I want her to love herself for who she is, not for what others think she does or doesn’t look like. I want the world to love her as she is, and that will only happen if she loves herself first. Society in general likes to tell us that if only we did this, or used that, we too could be successful and loved and beautiful! And I’m here to tell you that you already are. Every inch of you. But don’t take my word for it—discover it for yourself, and reach what I call a healthy state of imperfection.

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Pieces

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Old patterns and emotions shatter

scattered pieces

reflect back fragments of self

no order

chaos

confusion

darkness envelopes…

Dawn’s rays bounce off the glass

a new puzzle emerges

solvable

I sift through the wreckage

creating new structure

a masterpiece in the making

Getting REAL

My oldest daughter asked me what my New Year’s resolutions are. I told her I didn’t do resolutions, and sent her this pic instead:

1170800_10153650969610128_557012146_nFollowing your dreams, or making a plan to go after what you want is important. Without dreaming, human beings might become soulless shells of ourselves, wandering around with no ability to give our lives meaning or purpose. Over the years, as I’ve pursued my passions, I’ve encouraged others to do so. And now I want to encourage people to do something else: GET REAL.

For a long time, I lived in what I call the Land of Potential. I always saw how things could be, I worked toward my goals, I made plans, I fed my psyche positive affirmations like a drug addict snorts cocaine. (Actually, I don’t know if that analogy is correct as I’ve never done drugs in my life, but I hope you get the idea.) I turned myself into a positive person. I dove into my stories, created other worlds and happy endings, hoping that one day I too would have this elusive happy ending. I mean, if you fake it long enough, eventually it should come true, right?

As my friends and readers know, three years ago, my marriage ended. At the time, I remember going public with it, finally no longer feeling like a fraud by pretending my life was an HEA when it wasn’t.

Skipping over the past three years, I’m going to insert you into my life about a month prior when I discovered a lump in my armpit. Terrified it would be cancer, I sought medical advice and was told it was a cyst. Nothing to worry about, right?

Wrong.

I developed more cysts and boils on the surface of the skin. Turns out I had shingles and a staph infection. It would have been easy for me to delve into the world of my books – write a story, narrate some more, pick up my kindle and read one of the hundreds of books  I never get time to read. Submersing myself in the land of make-believe sounded like a great idea, but I knew I couldn’t do that this time.

I knew for myself, I have a habit of manifesting physical conditions when I’m letting go of things emotionally. These illnesses were information and I needed to listen. I won’t bore anyone with the details of my healing, but I will say that I took this opportunity to listen to myself, and figure out what I needed to do to heal.

Well-meaning friends told me to “envision the life I wanted” once I was well. While I sincerely appreciate their well wishes and sentiments, as I’m sure I’ve said this to others on occasion, I knew that envisioning my future life illness free was not what I needed to do. I had to “get real” with myself, look at the life I had and live in reality.

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“Getting real” for me meant taking a look back at the past and seeing my life for what it was, not what I would have liked it to have been like. I had to come to terms with the fact that in any given situation, I did the best I could with the knowledge and awareness I had at the time. I had to stop eating myself up inside (and quite literally with the infection I had) over things I could not change.

Being real with myself also meant, I had to deal with the current situation. I put on hold all work projects until the New Year, a situation I’m blessed to be able to do. A lot of people might not have this “luxury”. I meditated a lot, I slept A LOT, I made outings short if I had to venture out, and did what was best for me in the moment. While the Christmas season can be blessed with joy, it’s also a time when others place expectations on you for visitation, outings, etc. I made sure to do what was best for me and while I made apologies for not being able to attend some events, I did not allow myself to feel guilty in the least for not living up to the expectations of others.

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I took the opportunity to see how different my life, and all the wonderful people I’ve brought into it by changing my life one step at a time. I realized how much love and support I had in various forms which I did not have three years ago. Accepting that the hard work I’ve done inwardly, as well as outwardly, has paid off was a wonderful realization.

 So, here’s my long-winded point: Make your vision boards, set your goals, dream big about how you’d like your life to be. But don’t get so caught up in the fantasy, you forget to live your life for real.

Your goals will only be met if you put the work into it, if you deal with your life on a daily basis and live in the moment. Is that always fun or pleasant? No. Is it necessary? I believe so. It is for me.

Keep your day dreams where you can see them, just don’t make them all you see. Some times we want something so bad, we try to force it or create a reality that isn’t there. Be open to the journey and let things unfold as they should. It’s easy for us to stay with the familiar because it’s…well, familiar. This quote from Jeremy Wade of River Monsters fame, summed up how I feel about any new venture in life, whether it’s career, relationships or what have you:

“Dejected, I stared at the water and pondered the strange mechanics of perception – the perplexing fact that you can only see something properly if you already know what you’re looking for.” (Jeremy Wade, River Monsters, 2011) It’s difficult for us to perceive of anything new when we’ve never seen it before. But isn’t that half the fun of life – to venture into uncharted territory and see what happens?

In conclusion, dream big and create the reality you want, but I think Jean-Luc says it better:

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Advice from an Abuse Survivor

At this time of year, most of us are shopping for our loved ones, decorating our homes, baking cookies and treats, and planning holiday celebrations with our loved ones. There are many women, men and children who do not have that luxury. These people live in less than ideal circumstances, some trying to leave abusive households and better their lives, some not ready to.

People often stay in abusive situations because their abusers convince them they are the ones being abused. Abusers are very convincing and know exactly how to make their victims feel as if they deserve it and/or they are the ones who need to change.

Please read and share this article sent to me by someone who has lived with abuse and survived it. If you, or someone you know, is being abused – please seek help for them or for yourself. Consider donating to a local shelter this holiday season and help someone begin to reclaim their life.

Kellie

To be considered in an abusive situation, I thought that meant you were either beaten on emotionally or physically and didn’t fight back. I always fought back. Well, most of the time. The majority of the time, I simply wanted to keep the peace. I compromised, kept quiet, didn’t respond – that is until I’d reach the breaking point.

Once I reached the breaking point, I didn’t always react the way I would have liked. When we feel attacked, we rarely do. We defend, we shout, we say things to hurt the other person, trying to make them hurt as much as we are hurting. At least I did. Then the finger would be pointed at me, and I felt like I was the one in the wrong.

It’s taken me a few years to even admit my situation was what most would consider abusive. I simply viewed it as a life I lived, and then when it became physically abusive, I wished I would have the guts to end it then. But as most people do living in those situations, you go numb, not believing this has happened to you. It wasn’t until something small happened a few months later that I let go, not wishing to live that life anymore.

I was scared. Having given up my job to become a full-time parent, I was afraid of where we’d live, where would I get money, how  the kids and I would survive. The fact is we did. And here’s how:

1. Make a plan to get out. If you were like me, barely anyone knows of your situation. Tell someone. A trusted friend, family member, pastor, counsellor, a worker at a local shelter. Someone you trust which can be difficult since our trust levels are nil. Once you begin talking about it, you’ll see you’re not alone, and there is nothing wrong with you. There is help available and all you need to do is reach out.

2. Seek legal advice. If the physical abuse is severe, contact your local authorities and have a restraining/protection order put in place. This will assist you in leaving your home, or in having the abuser removed from the property. These orders do not guarantee your safety 100%, but it’s a start. If you are afraid of the order being violated, vacate yourself and any children from the property and seek shelter where you do feel safe. Don’t be afraid to contact the police and make a statement. A good lawyer will encourage you to do so. I didn’t require a restraining/protection order, but a lot of people do.

Getting a good lawyer who can inform you of your rights is essential. People often don’t due to the expense, but I found I had more rights than I thought I did when it came to assets and alimony.

Shop around for a lawyer the way you would for a car. Find out if a friend knows of a good lawyer. Local shelters can hook you up with legal aid if necessary. If you don’t feel your lawyer is working for you, don’t hire them. They work for you. It’s your hard-earned money that is paying their salary, so choose wisely, unless one is appointed for you by legal aid.

3. Find support groups or friends. Most of us feel alone when we are leaving an abusive situation. There is help out there. Seek it out. Talk to friends who support your decision, leave naysayers behind. You are already feeling vulnerable. Avoid people who put their insecurities onto you. You’re already dealing with enough.

4. Learn to love you. One thing I hear from previously abused people all the time is: I just want to find someone to love me. You already have someone: YOURSELF. I can say this because I spent a few years working on me. I wanted to make sure I was okay, and that my children would be all right. We all went for counselling. I continue to work on my issues. I love myself enough now that I don’t need a relationship. Would I like to be in one? Yes, some day I would, and when the time is right, someone will come along who will treat me the way I deserve because I know I’m worth it.

5. Watch for Predators. I quickly learned early on, how many predators are out there who will attempt to latch onto your vulnerability and try to make you think they can be your savior. Again, I stress – YOU are enough. Watch for the signs. *Kellie has an excellent article on her site.* http://kelliekamryn.com/2013/12/how-to-spot-a-predator/

6. Take one day at a time. Leaving an abusive situation is a process. Nothing happens over night even though we wish it would. Make an exit plan for yourself. Tell a trusted confidante. Find legal or support group help. Again, I stress, you are not as alone as you think or feel. Try not to think of a future beyond the day, so you can get through it. Focus on what you need to do in the immediate moment. It’s painful, but you will get through it, and your life will be better for it. There will be a transition period where you might have to move, assets sold or divided. Plan it out and take it one day at a time. With time, you will get it all sorted it out.

Unfortunately, my story is not unique. I’ve spoken to a lot of men and women who have lived a life similar to mine. You have the power to change your life. And if you don’t believe in yourself, I do.

HUGS and LOVE

 

How to Spot a Predator

Through my charity work with organizations like Osborne House who assist women and children escape abusive situations, I have touched on this topic.


I have been verbally attacked on occasion, received angry emails and direct messages on facebook and twitter, for refusing to speak to men who made me uncomfortable with their unwanted attentions. I’ve taken insults from men because I’ve refused their friendship or affections. Although it hurts to be labeled a bitch, I’d rather stand strong, knowing if that is how a man treated me trying to win my friendship, then I do not want nor deserve that kind of friendship. 

A year ago, I learned of a predator on Facebook. I became privy to this information because of my previous work helping others to tell their stories. This person has attempted to turn others against these women, making himself sound like the victim, even threatening them to keep their mouths shut. In sharing the information below, we hope to caution every woman to be careful, and protect themselves. Look for the warning signs listed below, listen to your gut. Know that you are enough, you don’t need his brand of “help”.

 

Predators are not only those who stalk you in person or follow you home. Online predators are equally as dangerous because eventually they want to meet you in person. I want to share the definition of a predator and some tips to protect yourself from becoming a victim. The information presented here comes straight from the mouths of survivors of this type of situation.

 

 

PREDATOR (Noun)

  1. An animal that naturally preys on others.
  2. A rapacious, exploitative person or group.

 

HOW TO SPOT A PREDATOR

 

It is difficult to spot a predator. They act like the nicest man (or in some cases, women) on the face of the earth. They are funny and charming. They flatter you, tell you what a wonderful mother you are (if you are one), praise you for going it alone, and give you all sorts of compliments. 

 

They are good at finding out what you want to hear and saying it often. And what woman getting out a bad relationship couldn’t use an ego boost like that?

 

Eventually, you feel safe enough to begin revealing your story. They will tell you how affectionate you are, insist you have “issues” in common, comment how women are “gifts from God” (which we are), and tell you how “abusers” are horrible. 

 

By this time, if you’ve gotten this far, he’s made you feel like he is the only one who understands you. He’ll offer you his phone numbers, wanting to hear your voice, insisting on reassurance.

 

What makes a predator different from the average person you might date and have things in common with, is that predators are narcissistic and everything will eventually become about them. Because they know how to use guilt as a weapon, victims will often feel guilty when they bring up something they don’t feel is right or try to stand up for themselves.

 

***At this point, I will reveal that in the past I have been privy to a couple of would-be predators getting me to the phone number point. This is when I TURNED TAIL AND RAN IN THE OTHER DIRECTION. My red flags went up way before this happened but feeling vulnerable and having no “proof” of what he was doing, I continued to trust, until my instinct screamed at me to end it before something bad happened.***

 

The next bit of information comes from women who have bravely told me their stories after they’d let it go beyond what we’ve discussed so far. They’re hoping to save others from their pain by telling the world what happened to them.

 

Once a predator gets you on the phone, they know how to speak to you. Their voice is charming and almost hypnotic. It’s a skill they’ve honed with years of practice. Now that they have built you up and you trust them, they insist on “training” you in some area of your life. 

 

It begins in a very subtle way; they tell you that you’re good at something and they can help you improve on it. Before you know it, they are controlling what you’re doing and you believe you can’t do it alone without their help. If you succeed in any way without them, they are quick to remind you that you could not have done it without them.

 

Now that they have built you up, they will begin tearing you down, letting you know when you have disappointed them, and how you can make amends. However, you’ll never make amends to their satisfaction. It now requires some sort of punishment, whether verbal or physical, and by this point you believe you deserve it.

 

HOW TO PROTECT YOURSELF FROM A PREDATOR

  1. The best defense against a predator is: TRUST YOUR INTUITION. We all have one. It tells us when something is right or wrong. It’s the voice in your head or sensation or whatever that insists you run or flee. 
  2. If someone makes you uncomfortable in any way, you don’t need “proof” in order to have nothing to do with them. Listen to your instinct that helps you protect yourself. Don’t apologize for giving someone a wide berth. Be SAFE NOT SORRY.

 

NOTE: A predator also knows how to use intuition – they prey on women desperate for affection, in need of strength of another and love. They know how to use this against a person. They also know how to use guilt to their advantage. Women often know when things aren’t right, even if it’s not at the beginning, but a predator will attempt to convince them they are wrong, using guilt as a weapon. 

 

***I’ve asked women who were hurt by a predator such as described above if they saw the warning signs. Most of them said yes, but not until it was too late. In some cases, they were hoping it would improve, and in others, women were lured to a private location for a rendez-vous and promised love and affection.***

 

3. Predators study their victims. You can protect yourself by learning to use your intuition better, by studying your interactions with people, reading their body language. This will help protect you in the future. At any time, if a person makes you feel uncomfortable, GET AWAY, whether online or in person.

 

4. Never hesitate to call authorities if you feel verbally or physically threatened, if you are able to do so. 

Should a predator get you alone in a physical location, they will ensure you are unable to get to an exit. Try to remain calm and figure out your escape as soon as possible. Below is a link to information to protect yourself when you’re out in public.

Many people don’t contact authorities because they’re afraid to tell someone. Predators make victims believe they wanted these awful things to happen. Victims feel ashamed and do not want to go public. 

Tell a trusted friend. Call the police. Contact a local shelter. There is power in numbers. You do not have to suffer in silence.

 

IF WE LEARN HOW TO TRUST OURSELVES, OUR INSTINCTS, WE CAN THEN LEARN TO TRUST OTHERS. 

And above all – learn to LOVE YOURSELF. If you love yourself, and find your own worth, you will be less likely to fall prey to a predator of this nature as they go after those who are vulnerable.

 

Build yourself up, love yourself. Be safe my friends.

 

Below is a link with some tips to protect yourself while you’re out in public.

 

Thanks for taking the time to read the blog. Please share this information, and if you have fallen victim to a predator, end contact with the person and seek help immediately. Don’t berate yourself. This kind of thing happens to even the smartest person because these predators are good. They didn’t become this way without practice. Don’t give them the chance to practice on you.

 

Check out my Youtube video on Lost In Her Mind to hear my reason for writing the book, and how you can help victims of abuse.

 

 

 

 

To Burn a Bridge

We came upon a bridge one day, and stood there side by side,

an adventure beckoned to us both, your trepidation you did confide;

Willing to risk a bump or two, I took a step and crossed,

Then found myself on the other side alone, and saw you lost;

Shaking your head in fierce conviction, fear shone in your eyes,

My hand I extended, you stepped back, and then to my surprise;

You lit a match and tossed it forth, lighting the path afire,

As the flames rose up, I watched it burn, ashes and smoke rising higher;

‘Til after a time, nothing remained but an evergrowing chasm,

Your face was hard, your spine so rigid – my heart, in sorrow, did spasm;

A smile of knowing crossed my face, and I lifted a hand in farewell,

with heavy heart, but clear of mind, I left you to your hell;

A bridge – like any other structure in life – rebuilt it can be,

And when the time is right for us, perhaps then you will see;

Appreciating I am unique, and truly one of a kind,

then honor, love and respect in your own heart you will find;

Until then, without you I walk alone into this new phase of my life,

I sincerely hope that one day soon you’ll see you can end your strife.

 (c)Kellie Kamryn, November 2013