But lately I've been jaded... life got so complicated

[With You, Jessica Simpson]

I got an e-mail from my brother, who recently moved to Spokane, saying that he ran into our biological father. I haven't seen the man for 15 years, and 13 years ago my testimony sent him to prison.

Fascinating that I lived Spokane for nearly 5 years and never saw him, and my brother lives there a week and just runs into some guy on crutches that someone called Charles, and the rest just falls into place.

I don't know much about the convo, other than it was short. It was long enough, however, for Chuck (as I knew him... well, I knew him as dad until I was nine. Then it was just Chuck.) to tell my brother that nothing I ever said about what he did to me was true.

My brother now questions if anything really happened to him or if he was just making stuff up to sound like what I had said happened to me. He honestly can't remember. I remember. My first memories of my existence are of Chuck abusing me.

Interestingly enough, my brother said, "Wouldn't God want you to forgive him?". I have forgiven him. I don't hold anything against Chuck. He's a very sick man, and I know that. I am not opposed to him receiving Christ and being completely transformed. Maybe he already has. But regardless of all of the above, forgiving him does not entail also having a relationship with him. I have a Father, the only one able to heal me of all that happened to me, and He's also blessed me with a dad, Dale, and that's enough. Forgiveness doesn't mean putting yourself back into compromising situations. Chuck lost all privilege of claiming me as a daughter over 24 years ago when he first laid hands on me in a way a father should never touch his daughter. And yes, you did the math right... I am nearly 24 and a half.

As for all of this... to be honest I felt numb today. Unsure of how to proceed. Trying to figure out if there are things coming to the surface that I have to deal with, or if everything's been dealt with and I need not be caught up in anything from the past. As I sat there, ruminating, I realized that I have never cried over what happened to me. Not once. Not for the actual abuse, nor for the childhood and innocence lost. Were it someone else, and they had my story, I would hurt for them and flood my face with tears. But for myself... nothing. I am not sure how I feel about that.

Am I just that strong? Sometimes I get tired of being strong. I'm always so competent and together and strong. Never have I failed at something I really wanted, never have I fully depended on someone else... is that a good thing? Or do I need to let myself open up emotionally, let myself need someone else?

Clearly, there is much to think about.