Just: a book review

No one in their right mind writes a book review of their own book so people don’t have to read it.

So here goes:

I wrote Just because books had helped me through some tough times.

It is not a work of literature. It is a cry for help. I wanted to add to the voices of men and women who had helped me–mostly celebrity survivors who had been courageous and told their stories. Oprah, and Ellen, Sugar Ray, Ashley Judd, and Todd Bridges…

What would have I done without them?

So this the story: we fostered and adopted children damaged by neglect and abuse.

Life with them was so hard. It became even harder when we found out my adopted son had molested some of my children and others.

We pushed for legal consequences.
We dealt with the damage.

I was surprised by how little protection the justice system gave us. The book was a cry for help and a warning.

What I would add to that as an epilogue of sorts is that there is another book too painful and personal to write about what I call the shunning syndrome.

If you are brave or foolish enough to speak openly about being victimized by sexual abuse, you lose almost everyone you love.

Tough book to write. Even tougher to live. Par for the course for humans–we let our wolves drive our flocks.

But beyond the lonely places, we are fine (thank you).

4 thoughts on “Just: a book review

  1. Would you ever consider moving? To, say… Seattle? Portland? Austin? I think you’d be embraced in forward thinking places like that. Not that there wouldn’t also be some, maybe even a great deal of, avoidance. But a large enough community might create a nice emotional barrier against that. Perhaps I am naïve. 🙂

  2. The only way moving would help is if we buried the story. We would be treated with distrust and our kids would be treated as pariahs unless we simply hid the abuse.

    I know because I have so many forward thinking friends in Austin and all my attempts to get together have been with such a strangeness and distance.

    One of the easy tells–oh, sure we can meet, but it would just be me, not my kids.

    People are afraid of us. Contagious.

  3. It’s not that they want to be able to talk first, reassure themselves that things are ok? Maybe I’m giving too much benefit of the doubt. I’ve done that before… sometimes not a good thing.

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