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Belongs to: Therapist reacts to The Tale of Jenny and Screech by Ren
I was sexually abused from ages 8-17 by my stepfather inside our home more nights than not. I never said anything until at the age of 17 my younger cousin said he was abused by him also. In other words I was silent. The thing with that some people demonize you for being silent. My own mother has said to me in the recent past she doesn’t understand why I didn’t say anything. In the vein of essentially victim blaming me. And I connect deeply with the line “I’m sure her mother knew”. So yeah. This song hits hard for me.
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My heart goes out to you. Thanks for talking about it now. Hopefully, you’ve found some peace and safety in your life and you can process it all.
If you tell people they never believe you, but later on they blame you for not saying anything. It’s a bunch of BS them saying that kind of crap… It’s like you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t all because some pedophile sexually assaults you.
Hello friend! What a heavy thing to carry in silence, only to face comments like that from your mother. I obviously don’t know the situation, but when I first read that your mother “didn’t understand”, I wonder if that wasn’t intended to be negative? Perhaps it was simply a statement of fact, and your mother didn’t or doesn’t have the empathy or vocabulary to provide more finesse and care in her message. When you think about it, how could anyone possibly “understand” if they haven’t been in that situation?
Like I said, I don’t know and my comment is NOT intended to discount your feelings at all. It’s just providing a view of my brain’s initial reaction to that statement from a purely logical perspective. With that said, I hope you are able to heal and grow, and the HeartSupport crew is behind you!!
I am more than sure it’s so hard to put to words what has happened and how it all felt. To reflect on that one line “I’m sure her mother knew”.
I just want to emphasis that I am sorry that you experienced such a harsh trauma and hurt. I will never in a million years comprehend how a person could see such innocence and mar it with such hateful intent. To put such a deep stain on someone’s life is something that should never have to be thrown back into a victim’s face. I’m sure it’s easy for people who have never stood in that moment to stand on the outside and speculate and wonder. There are so many thoughts and feelings that overwhelm a person faced with fear and hurt.
Will the repercussions of voicing what happened outweigh the potential “good”. Instead of someone rushing to our aid, we find the voice of the doubters. In a way it would be a whole new pain and torment to hear “you’re lying”. We don’t know what our voice will inflict from the perpetrator. There doesn’t have to be an out loud threat of “if you tell…” for there to be a fear instilled in us.
My heart breaks and aches that people wish to throw blame on the innocence rather than stand with you. How could you ever be responsible for such an act, so how could you ever be responsible for how it impacted you and for when you felt safe enough to have a voice. I believe there is a victory in sharing a voice that has been silenced by fear and by the people around us.
There is such a long process of healing that lies within trauma. It’s feelings of reliving the experience every time we share. It’s the emotions of grief over innocence lost. It’s the mixed emotions over how to feel about those who were in a position of keeping us “safe” and failing to do so”. It’s the voice of fear trying to take claim over our own.
Brene Brown said “ loving ourselves through the process of owning our story is the bravest thing we will ever do”. It’s so easy to cave into the idea that our worth and value lie in the untruths of what people speculate and what has happened to us. We are expected to tolerate the intolerable and rebuild the shattered pieces. As an adult that’s seemingly impossible, but as a child it’s an entire world left crumbled in the wake of a tidal wave. It’s easy to face those pieces with disdain in our hearts. We see a distorted image in the fragments and think that it is this misshapen human that stares back at us. A monster who does not deserve love.
I hope that as you continue to journey closer to healing, that all those broken pieces start to form a more complete image of the you who is worthy of love. Who is worthy of being believed. Who is worthy of feeling safe and protected.
As we work through the pain and trauma we take steps towards reclaiming our body. We expect from time to time that sifting through broken glass will lead us to a cut, an open wound, a fresh new hurt.
I am here to say that I stand by your side to champion you. To be the voice that says “I believe you”. To be the voice that says “you are loved and valued”.
There are a lot of people out there who have been in a similar situation, or situations. I dont particularly like going into my personal details. I just like to say i have some childhood trauma that makes me skidish in many ways, and my details make a lot of people uncomfortable, and its uncomfortable to talk about at times, but its easier when you have a support system of a few people who know the full extent of your trauma, and it makes it easier to say “yea im traumatized” comfortably with new people, without having to take yourself through the “episode” every time. Stigmatism runs so deep. Talking about it more makes those out there feel better knowing they arent alone. So thank you for sharing and know you are accepted and loved.
@@HeartSupport Thank you all for the kind words. When I first began my journey I had a lot of feelings of regret, guilt, and shame. I beat myself up because one of the reasons I stayed silent is because I had two little brothers, 10 and 12 years younger than me, and I didn’t want them to suffer the loss of the family unit. My parents divorced when I was 18 months old and I spent some time with my dad on and off but wasn’t close to him (a couple years ago I found out he wasn’t even my biological father but that’s a whole different story). And I was raised as much by my mom as she was out a lot at bars and singing in her cover bands.
Also I was 10 when my little brother was born and 12 when the next one was born and even at that age I was left with them a few nights a week while the parents went out to do their karaoke business. I made bottles, changed diapers, put them to sleep. So I almost felt like a father more than a brother at times. All that to say that I felt like I was protecting them by staying silent, gritting my teeth and making it through. Then as I got older I felt guilty that if I had graduated and left and my mom and stepdad stayed married he could have turned his attentions to them. And then I would have put them in the line of fire.
I’ve worked with a great therapist that has helped me to understand that’s not the case and it isn’t my fault. I am also fortunate that I had some aunts and uncles, grandparents, friends, and others in my life that were good role models from whom I could learn what healthy relationships at least looked like. Many don’t have that so I understand I’m fortunate to have had that privilege. And I’m thankful for my wife who I’ve been able to be honest with about it without judgement and has brought the best out of me. I’ve written down my experience and shared it with some which helped me heal as well. I’ve thought of sharing it with the world to help others. Which is why I’m no longer shy about sharing my experience on platforms like this. The more we talk about these things we not only heal ourselves but we let others know they are not alone. It’s really takes a weight off to realize how many good human beings there are in the world that will empathize, sympathize, and be there for you when they don’t even know you.
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