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My mother was a beautiful little girl
forced to wear the red stains of,
early trauma and sexualization.
In the womb i felt her psychic wounds,
feelings buried alive, never die.
The red stains of pain
refusing to wash off,
her porcelain skin.
Here she is surrounded by me,
as the woman for which,
the cycle repeats.
I too, fell victim – to predatory hands.
Marked with red stains,
I became, “Red Jane”,
cut with the same knife -
traumatized by the same pain.
I found a way to remove the red stains
from my palest skin.
Beauty for Ashes
set me free.
I wish my mother could discover
the same kind of relief.
Poem © Jaeda DeWalt
Creating this series proved to be a cathartic and healing experience. This is a deeply personal image for me, symbolizing the shame and silent suffering associated with surviving sexual abuse/incest.
I had to wade through the darkness of surviving, an abusive childhood, to come out into the light. I am happy to say i’ve arrived at a good place in my healing journey. This image, my words, they reflect a time and place, when things were very dark and the pain was difficult to navigate. Pain is a predator, if you run from it, it will hunt you down, face it and it will move through you . . . eventually.
Make your pain productive and you can turn tragedy into triumph.