Adera Gordon
Fragments of a Fractured Life: Overcoming Personal Trauma, Private Pain and Healing Forward tells an all too familiar story of one woman’s journey and survival, while facing the challenges of dealing with childhood sexual traumas; physical abuse and kidnapping at the hand of an ex-boyfriend. Today, she struggles to reclaim her life and dignity, and trying to overcome feelings of rage and anger that threatens the relationship with her children. The events of the past have robbed her of her identity and emotional powers. However, she remains resilient and determined to rid herself of the guilt and shame that has plagued her over the years. She fights to reclaim her lost inner child, with the hopes of discovering her true life’s purpose and identify herself not as a victim, but as a survivor.
About the Author
Adera Gordon is a Haitian born author; she lives in Maryland and shares a home with her husband and two wonderful daughters. Over the years, she has been on a journey of self recovery and discovery, looking to find the person and innocent child she felt had been lost to a vicious epidemic of childhood sexual abuse.
Writing has been her therapy, the healing metaphor that has helped to rid her of the pain of childhood traumas. Gordon dedicate her work to protecting children against sexual abuse, helping and reaching out to other survivors, to help them find the strength they need to speak out and heal forward.
Adera Gordon hopes to inspire survivors through self-expression, invoke changes to protect our children, young girls, young boys and women against the plague of sexual abuse. Adera Gordon is an up and coming activist on issues of sexual exploitation of children, domestic and relationship issues involving young adults, and domestic violence against women.
Adera Gordon holds a Bachelor’s Degree in Business from Columbia Union College, Maryland.
He was a young, vibrant, twenty-three-year-old. He had a way with words and persuasion that could convince a corpse it was still alive. He charmed everyone who crossed his path, including me.
Fortunately, for him, when we met, my life felt like that of a corpse—cold, miserable, and dark. For much of my young life, I lived emotionally and physically numb, craving attention from almost anyone who was willing to offer it. Yet, although I hungered for it, my experiences taught me to be very selective of the person I gave my time. In my mind, the lucky guy had to meet certain conditions, and boy, did he meet them all. He was good-looking, charming, funny, and charismatic, to say the least.
My life was like that of a walking dead, and it was not until that midsummer evening, when I looked into his brown, captivating eyes, that I realized I had not lived. He was a smooth talker, he said all the right things—all the things that a broken girl like me would want to hear. He said all the right words that made my heart jump unnaturally, and all the things that seemed possible. In him, I saw a happier life and a happier future.
I was instantly hypnotized by his charms and wanted to be possessed by him, and he didn’t disappoint. I wanted to be all that he wanted me to be; I wanted to matter to him, to be a part of something good—be a part of the love and excitement shared by two people. The kind of love I often saw dramatized on television. I wanted to experience the passion I often read about in the Harlequin romance novels; to give him my heart and feel the earth shatter beneath my feet. Naively, I wanted to be part of his world.
We had an instant connection that felt natural and exciting. He had won my heart. I thought it would be enough to give of myself, and in return, he would fill me with the substance I craved most—his love. I believed that he would rid me of the hungers of years past. He offered all that I wanted and more, including an occasional love tap, which he would justify to be loves play.
He was like no other young man I had ever met--not that I met many. He was like the ones I dreamed and fantasized about, the ones who never gave me the time of day, and although he was not the first handsome young man to have captured my heart, he was certainly the first to capture my soul. He made me believe that there was no other girl as special as me. He was not fazed by my dark complexion, as so many others had been.
