The Art of Forgiveness: How to Get Past It Without Letting Anyone Off the Hook

The Art of Forgiveness: How to Get Past It Without Letting Anyone Off the Hook

A step-by-step guide to getting past childhood abuse without letting anyone off the hook. Every spiritual teacher agrees that forgiveness is essential and beneficial, but few explain exactly how to go about it. Reverend Wild does. She is a survivor of childhood abuse herself, and it is clear she understands the subtleties and specifics of this kind of trauma. But the system she teaches could be used by anyone wanting to forgive any wrongdoing. You may have done a lot of soul-searching and years of therapy, as well as spent hours in prayer, yet you’re still haunted by the echoes of abuse. Or you may just be starting to face what happened. No matter what stage you are at, The Art of Forgiveness will help you make peace with the past and take ownership of your own happiness. Reverend Stephanie Wild is a psychic medium, energy healer, and ordained Spiritualist Minister. She is a survivor of physical, sexual, and emotional abuse, addiction, divorce, law school, and corporate America. Her professional practice is focused on helping women who have experienced sexual trauma take control of their own happiness through the art of forgiveness. She works personally with clients and is also a platform medium and experienced speaker. To every engagement, she brings a visceral understanding of spiritual longing, highly developed intuitive abilities, and a passion for truth, justice, and kindness. Reverend Wild was born and raised in Australia and now lives in New York City with her partner, two children, and Caramel Cat. The Art Of Forgiveness How To Get Past It Without Letting Anyone Off The Hook By Stephanie Wild Morgan James Publishing Copyright © 2018 Reverend Stephanie Wild All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-68350-765-9 Contents Introduction, Chapter 1 – Denied Reality, Chapter 2 – Denied Emotions, Chapter 3 – Twisted Thoughts, Chapter 4 – There Is a Reason for This, Chapter 5 – You Are Not Alone, Chapter 6 – The Art of Forgiveness – 3As, Chapter 7 – The Nature of Reality, Chapter 8 – Moving Forward, Chapter 9 – You Can Do It, Further Reading, The Principles of Spiritualism, Acknowledgements, About the Author, Thank You, CHAPTER 1 Denied Reality The First Incident The first time I was told I couldn't trust myself, I was about five years old. I had run into my mom and dad's room when my dad got home from work, as I was so happy to see him. He was changing out of his work clothes. When I ran in, he was down to his tighty-whiteys. He took those off and started sort of airing his balls out–massaging them and bouncing them around in his right hand. Then he sniffed his fingers and shoved them under my nose. "What is it? What's that smell?" He grinned and said, "Do you like it?" I felt a shiver go all up and down my little body. I hopped from foot to foot and back again. It was an entirely new sensation that this musty, musky scent had evoked in me. I was tingling "down there;" my body was electrified to the tips of my fingers. It was awful and exciting. He did it again: stuck his fingers under his balls, sniffed them, shoved them under my nose. And then the thing started to wiggle. As if by magic, it went up a bit, down a bit, up and down. I screamed. "What is it?" Dad laughed and snorted and I saw the gold fillings in his molars. He said, "Lick it. Lick it." So I did. I put the tip of my tongue on the tip of the thing. It tasted briny and cool. I looked up at him. "Lick it," he said, more gruffly. His face had changed and my dad wasn't jolly and fun. I wasn't feeling affection coming from him. I suddenly felt revolted and terrified. "What is it?" I screamed again. He was rubbing it now. I ran out of the room, still hopping from foot to foot and back again, trying to get the terrible tingle out of me. I ran into the kitchen, just a few feet away, where my mother was standing. She was staring at the wall. The Complicity "What's that thing that goes up and down on Daddy?" I pleaded as I hopped around. "What thing?" "That thing! That thing! It goes up and down!" "I don't know," she said, sounding annoyed. "Yes you do!" I was starting to cry now. She grunted air. "His penis." "Daddy made me lick his penis." "He did not." And there it was. "He did!" I wanted to tell her what had just happened, what it was like, get a hug from her, and hear her explanation for my feelings. I needed some comfort and to learn from her all about this strange incident. But instead, I got, "Don't say things like that about your father." "Ask him!" She called him out to the kitchen. "Neil! Neil!" We stood there for a while. She made no effort to comfort me. I walked backward into the hallway between the kitchen and their bedroom, stewing in my tears. Eventually he came out. "She says you made her lick your penis," my mother said, without looking at either of us. "What?" he scoffed. "She's lying." "I am not lying!" I was crying hard now and starting to feel terrified. "I'm not lying! I didn't even know