Written by: LeAndria, aka Jaysen Starr

I love the rain, love to be out in the middle of it, I notice how others don't look up while it's raining, they always look down. Always rushing and never looking to see anyone else, they are just trying to get out of the rain, I relish it, I have read the inspiration qoutes about not waiting for the storm to pass, but learning to dance in the rain, but this isn't the case with me, I don't love the rain to dance in it, no, the rain is my solitude, because rain hides the tears that fall, even if someone cared long enough to look up to see my face the tears I cry are camouflaged by the pouring rain. At least that is how it used to be. The bruises I carry don't show on my skin, my pain goes much deeper than that of a temporary physical discomfort, not saying that to be physically abused isn't a big deal, it is, I lived with it, but the emotional abuse lingers longer than the physical. I used to think God made me wrong, I was never meant to be a human, at least that is what others must've thought, everyone that wanted to and had an opportunity to ridicule, use, and/or abuse, they took it.

Sexually abused before I could even say my abc's, physically abused soon after, the emotional abuse is tied up with the others, but sometimes that type of abuse can be a weapon on its own. Someone who makes you feel less worthy as a person is someone who is emotionally abusing you. I would try to analyze it saying that seeing my mother being beat up as a child made me as much of a victim of domestic violence as it did her, she moved on with her life married a wonderful man that would never hurt her, but that little girl is still inside me waiting to break free from all the abuse I have been through, maybe somewhere on a subconscious level thinking that this is what is supposed to happen, I am the little girl waiting to be devoured by the wolf, waiting for the storm to break me, so I can have my knight in shining armor rescue me, but he didn't come. Something had to change for me.

Sure I could tell stories all about my childhood, therapy sessions would be too costly to sort it all out. Instead of sharing all the horrid details of being fondled and beaten to exact pain on an innocent child, even the emotional abuse I endured as an adult in past relationships, but I won't give the past power, I am going to say about how I cope with it all, what changed for me? I really don't know for certain, I just finally acknowledged that I deserved better than that, that the future generations deserved better, I didn't want my daughter to think that being someone's punching bag was okay, that being used by men was okay, I made sure to raise her to believe she is so much more than the evil doers would have her believe. I didn't want her waiting on a man to show up to save the day, I had to make sure she saw me as a strong woman, so she could see that we are capable of being more, we are able to rescue ourselves.I saved myself, I ridded myself of toxic relationships and paid the bills with money I earned and when I started writing, it gave me power to right the wrongs from my past, and now when my mind conjures a past predator, a past abuser, and there were many, I turn them into a character into a story maybe not the exact situation, but enough for me to know who I want to exact my revenge on. My stories all share a common theme my main character is a female who has to overcome some sort of past. Every female character is me, and I am them, but always stronger than their adversary, whether it is my werewolves, Petti with the whip, Autumn with the moon's glow or even a human, Mickaela, with a silver knife, all my females have a strength about them that allows me to look at myself in the mirror and face off with my demons from my past and say "I am stronger than you"

I can't change my past abuses, or even when I used to think that God should have made me a doormat, a punching bag, and a sex doll, but through my stories I have discovered that I wasn't made wrong, those that abused me were wrong in how they saw me, an easy target. It was their weakness that made them hurt me, not mine, coming away from it all with my sanity and me not repeating the pattern with those that are more vulnerable makes me stronger than them. I not only stopped the cycle, but I stand up to bullies, I now understand that someone who abuses others are weak, their only power is keeping their victims down and quiet. When I found my voice through my stories is when I stopped being a victim. My characters aren't waiting to be devoured, no, they are wolves ready to devour the enemy, they are sometimes held down hiding in the rain for so long to come back as the storm, when I gave a voice to that little girl crying in the rain is when I stopped crying in it and started dancing in it.