Welcome to Sadie Speaks

a safe and sacred space 

Welcome to a place of healing and hope after abuse. There is a certain ‘sisterhood’ and ‘brotherhood’ among women & men who have faced the countless varieties of abuse and its onslaught.  This is a safe space to engage with a lone  woman, on the journey of Faith, who found her voice on the tip of a pen and at the bottom of a make up brush. 


"There is no pit so deep, that God's love is not deeper still."

Corrie ten Boom


About Me

Sadie’s Not My Real Name

For years, I have written over 100 poems to try and make sense of my abuse and it’s obtrusive interaction with my real life.  In another season, I also found solace in building pottery and painting barns.  I finally decided to share my poetry and paintings in a forum that gives hope and provides sacred space for others to process pain. I founded Sadie Speaks : Finding Your Voice After Abuse with a mission to give others their voice by hearing mine. Take some time to explore the blog, read my story, and find your voice mingled in the echoes of my whispers, shouts, silence and songs.  May you find that the truth of your abuse ends with hope, tenderness, forgiveness and holding fast to Love. 


In Deep

Domestic violence awareness month is hard on me. I feel like I’m in the proverbial crossfire of high alert and survivor’s guilt. My...


It’s late summer. School is back in session. Our grand baby arrived late, but just like a beautiful bloom--worth the wait. Looking out...

Lifeguards Are We

My husband is a man among men. In this blog space, I named him ‘Mr. Barnabas’ for reasons quite obvious to me, but allow me to further...


Trigger Warning: Domestic Violence & Intimate Partner Violence; Verbal Abuse I have had this title in my draft folder for years. Shortly...

Home Should Be Safe

Another one bites the dust// And another one gone and another one gone// Another one bites the dust (Deacon, popularized by Queen) That...

The Long Winter

This week’s snowy weather reminded me of a poem I wrote in 1989 shortly after my personal ‘long winter’ which is reminiscent to a ‘long nigh


I buried it Just for you Tucked it away Where no one had a clue Pretended to be fine Let you pretend to be divine And buried myself with...

Belly Paste

Our nest is nearly empty. We only have one adult daughter living under our roof and waking with us on Christmas morning. Gone are the...

Christmas Came to My Heart

Mr. Magoo was a married man but he still wanted vows from another, from me. As a young teenager, after years of grooming, Mr. Magoo asked...


Some times we add ‘forever’ to the end of our good-bye. (Un)incredible Hulk dated me for two months, beat me for five months, manipulated...

There Once Was A Boy, Poem

There once was a boy with newspaper walls I’ve heard the story many times And I imagine he would read the printed page With his one good...

There Once Was A Boy

The one story I heard oft repeated was that they once lived in a shack - more like a shanty- whose walls were merely newspapers

Borrowing from the Old

I’m sitting down to write because I want to write. I miss writing. It’s been a long time for me. Covid. Graduating a senior in high...


That blood cries out from the ground Whose blood? My brother’s Asking God for not another Weeping black mother Over a body, covered

Fighting Tooth & Nail

Racism isn’t something new. It isn’t something that used to happen. Racism is an ugly, nasty demon that likes to hide in the shadows and

He Carries Me

He carries me Like a sheep in His pasture Oh so free From disease and disaster My good Shepherd is He

Help Thou My Unbelief

I do believe, but Lord--help me in the deep dark places of unbelief. Help me in the crevices of anxiety and worry and fear and doubt.

Run the Play

In my healing, there’s been a clear playbook and I wanted to share it with you. It works nearly every time. Sometimes, the other team is

March Madness

I didn’t come back to the gymnasium after that. Technically, I still have two seasons of athletic eligibility hanging like an old jersey in