It Happened ….
the first time when I was 4 or 5 years old and didn’t end until I was 12 or 13. I found out when I was 12 that his was something that had been happening to children in my extended family for decades. The adults in my family knew about it but no one ever did anything to stop it. I was sad, scared, and confused for most of my childhood, but this was not something anyone wanted to deal with, so I kept it all inside for the most part. We were a military family, so we moved every few years. I had to constantly make new friends, so I didn’t really have anyone outside my family who I trusted enough to tell until I was a teenager and it had already stopped.
It Was ….
my eldest brother. He is 7 years older than me. He was a minor when it started, but an adult by the time it stopped. He was sexually abused by both our maternal grandfather and our biological father. No one ever did anything to punish them. My brother was left alone with me all the time. Even after I told my mom what he was doing to me he continued to be allowed to “babysit” me. He always said if I told anyone he would go to jail. I knew that would make my mom sad and I felt like it would be my fault if that happened.
It Made Me Feel...
very sad and alone. I trusted no one. I learned from an early age that I could only rely on myself. I started having sex at 12 years old. Older guys would beg until I gave in, just like my brother used to do. It was all the same to me. I felt like it was just something that happened to girls and I just had to learn to deal with it. Sex and food became my vices. I cared deeply for everyone around me and did anything I could for other people, but I didn’t do those things for myself. I just wanted to please people and make them love me. I ended up with PTSD. I couldn’t even use the bathroom without first making sure someone wasn’t hiding in the shower until I was 30 years old. I made sure my door was locked at least a dozen times before going to bed each night until I was in my mid 30’s. I didn’t stand up for myself, make eye contact with people, or speak up about anything until I was in my 20’s. I didn’t love myself or know my real worth until this past year. I am 40 and I still struggle with depression and anxiety sometimes. I didn’t even care if I lived or died for most of my life. The only reason I didn’t take my own life is I got pregnant and had my son when I was in my mid 20’s. He was my only reason for living for a very long time.
I Told…
my mom what he was doing to me when I was 7 years old. She cried, asked me some questions, and then left the room. My brother came in a little while later, crying, asking why I told on him, telling me he was going to go to jail, and it was my fault for telling. I felt bad because I thought I upset my family. They believed me but no one made it stop. No one ever even brought it up again. They continued to leave me alone with him. It continued until I was 12 or 13, when he finally joined the military and moved away. No one ever got him help and, despite it being out in the open and him getting therapy as an adult, he did it others, too. He’s serving a 7 year sentence for that.
I Survived…
but sometimes I still wonder how. I started telling my story to friends when I was a teenager. That helped a little. Therapy and depression and anxiety meds helped a little too. This year I discovered the thing that has helped me the most. I went to a spiritual healer who taught me about inner child healing. I now do inner child healing meditations every morning and it has literally saved my life. I finally care if I live or die. I have hope for my future. I have hope for my relationships. I finally love myself and know my worth. I finally see what an amazing person I am and all that I have to offer.
I Dream…
of a day when the subject of sex abuse is not treated like something that shouldn’t be talked about. I dream of a day when survivors are listened to, believed, and not treated like they are the ones who committed a crime. I dream of a day when justice is served more often than not. I talk about my experience every chance I get. I speak up about sex abuse to my family, my friends, my co-workers, and to complete strangers. I want to do everything I can to make children feel like they can tell someone as soon as something happens and that they are actually heard and helped.
I Want…
other survivors to know that in trying to be strong, by keeping all of that pain inside and just simply trying to survive, I made it even worse for myself. Those feelings I kept inside for all those years came out in my adult life in the form of depression, anxiety, and completely losing my will to live. Tell your story. Don’t push those feelings aside no matter how sad or angry they make you. Sit in those feelings. Really feel them. Feel them until you feel relief. Do this every time those emotions come up. I promise it will help you heal. I also want them to know that other survivors are out there. We believe you and we care about you.
What I would like people not affected by abuse to know it they need to listen to survivors. They need to listen to them, try to understand, believe them, and do not tell them to just get over it. It is nowhere near that easy. I would like parents everywhere to start talking to their children about this at a very early age. I started talking to my son about it at 2 years old. When a girl at his daycare touched him at 3 years old, he told me that evening. He trusted me because he knew it was not his fault and that he would not be blamed. He only knew that because I had talked to him about it many times already. I was able to make sure it didn’t continue because he was comfortable telling me. Teach your children that it will never be their fault and they will never get into trouble if they tell. Teach them the importance of telling. It can literally save their lives! People often take their lives because of sexual abuse. People can become abusers because of sexual abuse. I know it’s an uncomfortable thing to talk about, but it’s not anywhere near as horrible as it is to have this happen to your child and/or to have your child turn into an abuser. It’s one of the most important things you can do as a parent.
This blog post is copyrighted and cannot be republished without the expressed written consent of the author and The Mama Bear Effect.