How Childhood Sexual Abuse Changed my Adult Life.
And how I’m dealing with the fallout.
My trauma is more than thirty years old, and I’m still healing.
There are some things in life we just don’t get over. This is one of them. Sadly, I think it’s so deeply ingrained in me, no amount of therapy will every completely take it away.
And to be honest, that really pisses me off, because therapy is hard. Life without therapy is also hard, so I go even though it sucks sometimes. I do love my therapist, and our talks help me tremendously. Still, after all these years, my scars are still there to remind me of the terrible things that happened to me when I was small. Every once in a while something happens, and those old wounds begin bleeding again.
I’ve tried lots of healing modalities — EMDR, energy work, exercise, dietary changes, medication and meditation. I’ve read the books and gone to the workshops and done everything I possibly can to be well. Hell, that’s why I started writing in the first place. Putting pen to page is so cathartic, and sharing my story has been incredibly healing for me.
Yet, here I am — in my forties — still trying to reconcile things happened before I went to kindergarten. Almost all of the things I struggle with today can be traced directly back to the abuse in my formative years.
I sometimes wonder if pedophiles have any idea what their victims go through, or if other survivors like me realize how their present day struggles began when they were little. Surely, our stories and experiences are as individual as we are, but these are some of the dots I’ve connected to the abuse that began when I was three.
Anxiety and addictions: Anxiety, depression and addictions have been part of my experience since I can remember. I lump these three things together, because they all feel like part of the same emotional rollercoaster. My anxiety sneaks up on me sometimes when I least expect it. I overthink everything, second-guess myself, feel indecisive, can’t trust myself to make good decisions, feel like I’m constantly failing or letting someone down. I can grab onto worry and cling to it like my life depends on it, when really, letting go would be better for me and everyone around me.
Depression will creep in just as suddenly and pull me down into the pit with my demons. Insecurity, feelings of worthlessness, guilt, shame, hopelessness and grief can be damn near crippling at times. This is always unnerving, because on my best days, I’m a happy little ray of sunshine- so much so that I even annoy myself . But, on my bad days, I can just barely do what needs to be done. My mind is so crowded with negative thoughts, there’s precious little space available for adulting.
Addiction is part of my personality I have to constantly monitor. I’ve had issues with alcohol, marijuana, food and spending. I’ve been hooked on television, cigarettes and sugar. I know that anything I’m grabbing onto to make myself feel differently can become a problem, and something I will have to keep in balance. Some of my healthier addictions have included exercising, sparking water, and coffee. All of these things distract me from my anxiety and depression, and all of these things are inherently innocuous. But, when out of balance, they can be detrimental to my physical and mental health. Practicing mindfulness is imperative for me, and likely always will be.
Body issues: I have struggled with my weight my whole life. As a little child I was overweight. In high school, I was anorexic. I’ve spent the past twenty years gaining and losing the same sixty pounds over and over.
I’ve realized that I feel safer in a heavy body. Being overweight almost allows me to become invisible. I love the way invisibility feels. When I am thin, I am so much more self-conscious about my body. Unwanted attention from men makes me an anxious mess, and typically sends me right into a binge, which makes me feel terrible about my lack of control and then it’s just trigger city.
Protective weight is not something that is unique to my story — so many of us cope this way. The problem is, it damages our physical health as well as our self-esteem. Along with this comes body dysmorphia, which is another whole layer of struggle.
When I imagine what I look like, I get one image. When I look at myself in the mirror, I get another, different image. When I see myself in photographs, it’s shocking no matter what size I am, because I can’t believe how big or how small I look compared to the picture in my mind’s eye. This disconnect makes it difficult to manage my weight, and even harder to love the skin I live in every day.
Family fractures: Included in the collateral damage of my early childhood sexual abuse was my relationship with my mother. I was just three years old when I told her that a neighbor was touching me inappropriately. She didn’t know what to do, so she did nothing. She welcomed the man who molested me into our home for more than a decade after the day I told her about the abuse. She was afraid my father would end up in prison if he found out, so we kept the terrible secret from him for years.
When I began the messy work of trying to make sense of what happened to me and why, I chose to forgive my abuser. I realized that he was probably also abused as a child, and was perpetuating a cycle that he unwillingly became a part of. Knowing that he hurt me from his own pain, or a sickness inside him, made it easier to let go of the animosity and hatred in my heart for him. Forgiving my mother has been an entirely different story.
I never understood why my mother did not protect me from the men who hurt me. Now, I can see that she had challenges of her own to deal with. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to protect me and keep me safe. She didn’t know how. She didn’t have the courage to stand up for me, or for herself. My mother did the best she could with what she had to work with- that’s all any of us can do. I understand this now. But, I spent years of my life believing that I was worthless, because if my mother didn’t love me enough to protect me, how could anyone ever love me? How could I ever love myself?
Fear of men: There have been several men who have abused me sexually, physically and emotionally throughout my life. This has left me with a mistrust of men in general. I shy away from conflict with men, I am on high alert in crowds, and avoid being alone with strangers in elevators and other spaces where no one could hear me scream. I check my backseat before getting in my car. I don’t walk alone after dark. I don’t leave my drinks unattended in public places. I’ve instilled these things in my daughters as well, in hopes that it will keep them safe.
Autonomy: As ridiculous as this sounds today, it took decades for me to realize that I could say no to unwanted advances from men. I didn’t know I got to have a choice in the matter. If I had known years before, I likely would have made some very different choices with my body. I felt dirty, used, broken and ruined. It never occurred to me that the abuse was not my fault, and I blamed myself for most of my life until I realized that it didn’t have anything to do with me.
We are never born with an inherent flaw that makes us worthy of abuse. But, that’s how it feels sometimes. For me, it was a vicious cycle of feeling like I was abused because I deserved it, and feeling worthless because of the abuse, and feeling like I deserved the abuse because I was worthless, and around and around. Today, I understand that it wasn’t my fault. I didn’t deserve it. And, my worth cannot be diminished by the actions of another person.
Though I still struggle with all of these things, just knowing why they are part of me has helped me so much. I know that none of us survive sexual abuse unscathed. The damage is so complex and so insidious it can really slip off our radar if we let it. But, when we see our pain manifesting in things like addiction, anxiety and eating disorders, we can choose to acknowledge that these things in our present day life likely have roots in our childhood trauma.
Forgiving ourselves, letting go of the shame, guilt and self-loathing that come with being a victim in this way can feel impossible. And truly, it might be impossible if we avoid our truth, or try to power through it alone. But, with the help of some wonderful friends and a trusted professional or two, we can do damn near anything. We can even heal and live happy, normal productive lives no matter how damaged we thought we might be.
If a child confides in you that someone has touched them inappropriately, please, I’m begging you, believe them. Kids don’t make this kind of shit up.
Listen. Take it seriously. Do something — anything — to make sure they get the help they need to cope. Make sure they are removed from harm’s way. Make sure you participate as part of the solution, no matter how difficult it might be for you to do so. This is your chance to be a hero, to literally save a life.
Show up.
Speak up.
You have no idea what it will mean to them later in life to have your validation and support.
If you’re struggling with your own childhood sexual trauma, know that you’re not alone. It’s not your fault, you didn’t deserve it, and there is hope for a better tomorrow. Remember that your worth is inherent, and cannot be taken from you. Understand that you are perfect, and lovable, and safe even when you don’t feel like it.
It is possible to become healthy and whole again. The journey begins with self-compassion and acceptance. We can learn to love ourselves, to open ourselves up to love and affection from others, to live to our fullest potential in every way. We can, and we should, because we deserve to be happy.
We deserve to have beautiful lives, successful careers, and fulfilling relationships.
We deserve to feel safe, and to love ourselves unconditionally.
We deserve to be free of our pain, and break the cycles of abuse and self-punishment that began without our consent.
We deserve to be cherished and unbroken, as every child should be.