I'm not writing this to shame or embarrass anyone in my family, although I'm sure it will. But I will not apologize for that. I've carried enough shame and guilt and ugliness inside me to last 10 lifetimes. No one apologizes to me. Don't mistake this for bitterness, rather it's just fact.
I'm not writing this to ask for any sort of pity, that truly is the last thing I desire. I actually hate when I tell my story and get "the looks," as if people's eyes speak to me saying, "oh, you poor thing." There's nothing really poor or downtrodden about me. Matter of fact, I'm one of the toughest people I know. I can pull myself out of ANYTHING and walk tall. Sure, I have moments of insecurity and unsuredness, but who doesn't? I've spent the last 10 years learning about myself and human behavior. I can finally say I think I understand what behaviors I have that are normal for the society we live in and what behaviors I carry because of my past.
I'm not writing this to shock and awe anyone. This situation doesn't call for that. My real goal here is to shed some light on the reality that is sexual abuse. I want people to realize that it can happen to anyone, anytime, anywhere....and sadly, with anyone. I won't name names, but I will tell you that the familial closeness of the people who hurt me would turn most of your worlds upside down. But that is biggest reality, people you least suspect on the outside are the biggest predators. I will call to each of you to please pay attention. Don't ignore your gut. And don't let shame, guilt or fear rule who you keep your eye on.
I'll avoid graphic details of the abuse, but the worst of the things you've heard about sexual abuse, I'm likely to have experienced. I had a total of 5 offenders. I can remember abuse as far back as 4(ish) years of age. And the last experience I had with being violated, I was 16 years old. I knew every single one of the people who hurt me. They were close to my whole family. I trusted them. I actually cared about them....all of them. They were all older than me and had a responsibility to protect me and lead me. They failed. They showed me an ugly world full of scary people who would never do anything but fail me.
I've relived the fear, the terror, the revulsion, the horror, the humilation, the worthlessness and the helplessness over and over and over, in every aspect of my life. I've lived without feeling control over my body or my mind for as long as I can remember. I've hated my body my whole life. It betrayed me. I hated my mind because of the feelings, the constant internal battles over good and evil. Somehow, in my young mind, I was always the evil one. My own mind convinced me of that, and my perpetrators reinforced it. As I've grown, I've learned that there was nothing wrong with me though. However, there was very much something wrong with the people who hurt me, the people who knew and failed to protect me, and the people who blamed me for my bad behavior. Of course I acted bad. Of course I acted angry. Of course I acted out. I felt bad, I was angry, and I needed the release. I needed the attention, I just didn't know how to get it...not the right way anyway. I didn't know the words to say what was happening to me, and even after I learned the words, I felt so much guilt using them. I was unsure in my own mind if I was making this stuff up, I was unsure if I'd be believed, I was unsure it would change anything.....but most of all I was positive I'd be seen as more of a troublemaker than I already was, so silence won. I don't know if I'll ever really be able to put the effects of all of this into words that will properly express the magnitude of the grief and anger that I've lived with because of this. The abuse has marked my life beyond the incidents. Mostly it took away my self confidence and my belief that I could be a good person. I've had several failed friendships, fantisized relentlessly about ending my life to end the chaos inside, and most definitely I've distrusted ANYONE who supposedly cared about me. I've spent years in fear, years of being unable to speak my true feelings, and years of trying to pretend the most impactful events of my existence didn't happen because they're socially unacceptable to talk about. I've had plenty of years of self-hating. I've resented the years of paying the price for others' wrongness. I'm done paying. I AM a good person. I AM somebody. I didn't do this to myself. I didn't make my life hard. However, I have survived all the difficulty others have put in my way. I am a fighter, and I'll continue to fight until the day I die to have some kind of normalcy for myself, for my husband, for my children.
I have to believe that what I went through wasn't for nothing. Maybe that's just for survival, or maybe there is a higher power up there making life lessons out of everything. All I know is that if I keep the secrets, I'm perpetuating the ugly cycle of abuse. I'm sure some of you will be thinking, why on earth is she plastering this on fb?? The answer is....I have 230 friends on facebook. Statiscally speaking, that means about 80 of you have been sexually abused at some point in your childhood. That's why. That's why I'll share my private business all over facebook. I'm not ashamed anymore. And I don't want my friends to be either.
