Our intention was to dance on his grave.
My beautiful cousin, who I’d not seen in 35 years, and I set out to dance on our grandfather’s grave. Our first dilemma was, of course, song choice. You have to have the right song. We bandied a few song titles about. Alanis Morrisette was a front runner.
Obviously.
We drove to the town where he lived and where he is buried. We drove to the town where we were abused. Driving down the picturesque New England roads, I felt a little faint. Mary felt a little barfy. We pulled into a store parking lot and Mary spent some quality time behind a dumpster, hurling. It happens.
We weren’t entirely sure where the cemetery was so we pulled into a police station to ask for directions. I said jokingly, We should go in and file a police report. Mary said, What would happen if we went inside and filed a police report?
I said, Let’s do it.
We walked in after Mary barfed again and there was a darling older police officer behind the glass window. Mary told him we were looking for the cemetery- and I had a moment of, We’re probably not REALLY going to do this. Then my beautiful cousin, who is the bravest person I know, said- And we would like to report a crime.
That got his attention.
She said, Our grandfather sexually molested us 35 years ago and we want to report him.
We were ushered into a conference room where a young officer came in to talk to us. He handles all of their sexual assault and rape cases. He introduced himself, sat down and proceeded to ask us questions about what happened. Names, addresses, dates. I called my sister and put her on speakerphone. We were all crying.
Sweetie, I said, He’s writing it down.
He wrote it down.
We said, This happened to us, and he listened. He WROTE IT DOWN.
I cannot begin to tell you how powerful that was.
He said several times, I don’t want to open any wounds, so if you don’t want to answer this, that’s okay. Finally, I said, The wounds are all still open. Obviously. What do you want to know?
I found myself saying to a police officer, I was raped. I never thought that would happen.
Then Mary asked a question I would not have thought to ask but the answer to which I really needed. She said, What would have happened to him, if someone had reported it? The officer told us the procedural things, he said he would have interviewed us, he would have interviewed our grandfather, he would have corroborated what he could. And then he said-
I would have driven down the street and arrested him.
That is what should have happened.
We know there is nothing to be done. We know there will be no consequences and no justice. Life is staggeringly unfair, sometimes.
But there is a record. We walked into that police station holding the jagged shards of our story, of our childhood, and said, LOOK. THIS HAPPENED. And Officer Paul Smith bore witness. He wrote it down.
In a few days, the police report will be available and Mary will go get three copies. Or, if she makes good on her threat to send it out in lieu of a Christmas card next year, maybe many more. But, at least three. We will each have a copy.
We asked Officer Smith if anyone else ever comes forward about our grandfather- because we know with absolute certainty there are MANY more victims- to please give them our information. We want to meet them.
At that point, we thought we were still going to go to the cemetery. Officer Paul offered us a police escort.
I think it is important to note, in the face of so much awfulness, that people really are mostly very good. He was so kind. He took it so seriously. He honored our loss.
Mary decided she’s not quite ready to dance on his grave. That’s okay. We’ve found each other again. We’ve got nothing but time.
That’s where this was supposed to end.
Then I got a call this morning, from Officer Paul. He said, Can you come in? I have something I want to tell you guys.
So.
Mary and I just got back. We were at the police station for hours. Talking to a mama. About her daughter. She told us what happened. Officer Paul wrote it down.
Guys, I don’t quite know what to do with any of this. It’s a LOT. I have a crushing headache, and Mary and I have made an agreement that we will spend the rest of the night talking about Adam Levine’s abs. That’s it. That’s all we’ve got. BUT- my world is lighter than it was yesterday.
Brave and fierce and true. Both of you. And officer Paul.
Wow!
Amazing!!! Follow me please 🙂
Powerful.
Laura, you are an unbelievably amazing and strong woman. Period.
I just read this for the third time. You wrote it down, too. Makes me cry. So proud of you.
I’m with Lisa. You wrote it down, too. What courage all of you have. You make me want to be a braver writer and person. I’m glad to know you.
Yes
God Bless You Officer Smith <3. Such brave girls! Thank you for sharing.
So much indeed. Take back your power, you are strong and coureageous. You have all gone through hell. All my life I have beat myself up for all the awful, stupid, REALLY STUPID, things I have done my whole life. You nailed it in a previous post when you said that what happened to you as a child affected every decision you ever made. It smacked me in the head. I understand a bit better now. And I hope I can grow and stop beating myself up now. Your words are helping me deal. I hope writing them is helping you too. xo
<3
Love that you and your cousin are taking back your lives. ❤️
That just made me cry. Words are powerful. YOU and Mary and Aimee and that Mama and her daughter are POWERFUL. Officer Paul is a HERO. (Most) People are GOOD.
My words exactly. I wish I had your courage. I was date raped & still feel like it’s my fault, 20 years later…
I’m going to state the obvious. It wasn’t, Lisa. Not for one second. I am so sorry that happened to you. I have a LOT of friends who have had similar experiences. xoxo
Gosh Lisa, when you got rape, it never your fault. You are victim. But then, you must move on and please don’t feel it was your fault. And im sorry that happened to you dear. Xoxo
My heart breaks for all of you girls. And Officer Paul, just doing his job, with support and compassion… Thank you.
What an inspiring thing to believe you are worthy of being heard. And then to act on it. True bravery. May your actions and your writing encourage others to do the same.
i find it astounding how many of us friends shared similar experiences but never spoke of it until we were adults. Think ofthe support we could been for each other trying to deal with all the horrible leftover feelings during our teen years. Think of the impact that knowledge could have had on our adult lives.
Laura, you are such a brave and strong women. I am humbled to say I know you even it has been years. I rarely speak for others, but I can confidently say, we are all proud of you.
Thank you! Husband of the (mama) daughter.
I’m honored to witness what you’re going through, Laura!
Thank you for being strong. Impressed.
Thanks for sharing your truth and thanks even more for this one sentence: “I think it is important to note, in the face of so much awfulness, that people really are mostly very good.”
I guess I need to tell somebody that would care. Mom just says shes sorry and forget about it. It seems the older I get the madder I get.
yeah… the older/madder thing. Totally get that.
Joyce, my mom said the same thing. I was angry for a very long time. Damn thing is my abuser(s) was her abuser also. I guess that’s what she did: tried to just forget. Probably her sister and her brothers did too…although, victim’s often become abusers as in this case.
So much yes. Sending you all peace for your hearts. And a very big THANK YOU to Officer Paul for bearing witness to your story. Many blessings to you all.
Bravo.
Speechless. . .you are brave women. Your emotion so raw on the page of healing. God bless you!
Bravo!
This is a beautiful story that came out of such a dark and terrible place. I honor your courage and bravery – to confront, and share this truth, and allow someone else to help you carry that weight. And in sharing this story here, you’ve allowed all of us to help carry the weight to.
I have a tattoo that says “Healing begins when someone bears witness.” Those words informed the volunteer work I’ve done on a sexual assault hotline, and stay with me every time someone discloses something like this. It’s a reminder that no one can do this alone – that we have a responsibility to help others heal.
You wrote it down. We read those words. We saw you, we believe you, and we wish you only lighter days from here on.
Wow. So strong you all are. I’ll be carrying you around in my heart today.
Just WOW! Well done ladies – you did an amazing and brave thing. You deserve the lighter load you now all carry more than I can even begin to articulate. I am humbled by your story and your strength. Sx
I’m afraid to write it down. The pain is so fresh and creeps into my life with every breath that I take even though it was decades ago.
Write and write and write.
Tell your story. You have a right to heal.
You and your sister’s are true warrior women. Even though you were quaking and barfing you did this…you told your story. And Officer Paul…he is a champion for warrior women~he wrote it down and offered support. You women are brave healing souls.
As someone who is still waiting for there to be a grave to dance on, thank you. I was brave enough to tell my story once as a child; they didn’t write it down.
When I saw the link to this, it was accompanied by a trigger warning. I’ve just got to say, nothing was triggered but hope.
Thank you for writing it down.
You are all awesome. How courageous and brave you are. Kudos to Officer Paul for listening and showing kindness. This is what we all need to hear and kniw so that it doesn’t happen again.
This is the first post of yours I have read. I’m so happy to read it! I am honored and privileged to be a part of your story. Thank you for the tears and bravery. I’m writing here along with you at http://thecounterstool.me/2014/11/13/pretty-tough-stuff/ Our words and writing make us so much stronger together. You might also want to check out http://triggerpointsanthology.com.
Thank you!
You guys, I am awed by your bravery and I vow to walk taller today than I did yesterday. Beautiful.
Writing it down is SO important. Naming it, speaking it out loud, having it heard and received by someone… oh gosh, that’s life changing stuff. Even 35 years later. Thank you for sharing this story: you are empowering SO MANY people to tell their story (and others, to HEAR the story) – because there’s power in the telling and the receiving, even if many years have passed, and even if ‘nothing else can happen now’.
You are a courageous woman.
Hi Laura: I didn’t know how to find you on twitter, but to say I included your post in my January round up of top reads. Thank you so much. http://bronlea.com/2015/01/30/pick-of-the-clicks-1302015/
@laura9perry for now. Haven’t set up account for the blog yet. Thank you so much for including it!
You are both brave. Thank you for sharing. It did happen and we have all read it, because you wrote it down too. Prayers for your healing.
At least there is a record. Wow. That’s all i have too, but thank you for helping me realize that that is SOMETHING. Love to you and your sister and cousin and the others. May you find peace and may you feel God holding your hand through this. You are never alone and you are loved.
I’m crying with you <3 Happy tears for the brave women you are… and heart wrenching tears for the innocent girls you once were.
Wow. That is all. Just wow.
I am overwhelmed with sadness for you that you held this to yourselves for so long. I am hopeful that this truth will set you free as truth always does. I pray for continued healing of your spirit
Reblogged this on Joanie's Blog and commented:
I have known many women that this atrocity happened to. But not until reading this do I fully appreciate the significance of being heard, of there being a safe “witness”. This is so important and gut-wrenching. Thank you for illuminating the darkest of subjects.
Yes. This.
For so many beauty~full souls out there…this.
I could barely breath reading this because it hit home.
Hard.
Everyone should be treated this beauty~fully.
Bless you sweet ones.
May your healing begin.
And blessings to this gentle protector of human rights who heard you, truly listened and wrote it down.
Thank you for this.
Me too.
It happened to me but not with a relative – a perfect stranger. I have never told a soul. I’m now 60 years old – I was 7 then. It has effected my whole life. Thank you for being able to tell someone.
I hear you. I believe you. I believe in you–that you can receive healing and be whole. Brave, you are. Thank you. You gave me needed courage today.
Dear Laura,
As a long time Momastery fan, you are, as G puts it, “Our Laura”. I have always thought you were strong and you shone so brightly but now I see that your power is volumes above what I have seen. I had no idea this was part of your story. I want it not to be true for you, your cousin, sister, the mama (daughter), everyone! I’m so sorry. I pick up a piece of your pieces for you and I send my love and support. You are only shining brighter and getting stronger now. And I can tell by the comments on fb that you are helping many others so there is much good coming from this horrible thing. I have an image of a HUGE huddle of Momastery sisters and officer Pauls and the like surrounding all who have been hurt with love and support. May the healing continue for all.
Oh, Kerry. I did not think I could cry any more today. I was wrong.
“I pick up a piece of your pieces for you….”
THAT’S IT!!!
THAT is what is happening all over this blog!! Pieces are being picked up, loved on, VALIDATED, and gently handed back to these who can’t reach them yet….
Think of that visual with your quilt patterns, Laura!!
How eloquently spoken, Kelly, and powerfully felt by The Shattered.
EXACTLY. It’s a sort of emotional, “many hands make light work.” Love, love, love.
WOW, what a powerful story! You are so brave to report what happened to you and Officer Paul is incredible for helping to make you feel stronger. So much <3 and many prayers to you!
Oh the courage and strength. I am sitting here in awe. I was directed to read this post and it left me speechless. And then I read more of your posts and I have been sitting here in stunned silence because I know without a doubt I was suppose to read your words today. These things happened to me when I was young and innocent and I never had the courage to tell. I am 52 years old and I’ve kept the secrets for oh so long. After all these years how do you tell a loved one that your first time having sex was being raped at 12 by your brothers friend? Things were already a big fat mess in my home before that anyways, so somehow this happening was almost par for the course. I went into life knowing I was broken and defective and used up and I just learned to operate under those. I knew that I was not wanted from the very beginning of my life. Born to very dysfunctional parents that already had a slew of children, I was another burden for them to bear.The weight of carrying secrets is exhausting and really does suck the life out of a person. I’ve performed my whole life, thinking that if I just put everyone first, gave all that I had to give to others and never give much thought to all the things I survived(lets just pretend these things didn’t happen) then just maybe I would have some bit of worth and damn it maybe once in awhile out of all that giving myself away I will feel that feeling of being wanted.
I have some health issues(thyroid, adrenal and hormone) and at my last doctor appointment my doctor told me that I need to stop swallowing down my feelings and starting finding my voice. Ironically, for 2015 I have made getting my health back my intention for the year. My doctor told me that I have got to start making myself a priority and learn how to put myself first. I have to start saying no and find my voice and figure out a way to some how vomit all this brokenness that lives inside of me. Will I still be loved when I start saying No? Will I still have value if I am not “doing” and taking care of others?
In reading what I’ve written so far it seems like my life must be horrible but really I do have a very good life. I am grateful for the life I have and for getting to this place in my life. It’s just that I am a master performer at pretending and some times I just this veil to fall off me. Thank you for sharing your words..your story of strength has deeply touched me and have a lot to teach me.
Anyone worthy of being in your life will not only still love you once you start saying ‘no,’ they will REJOICE in it. I promise.
Incredibly moving. <3
I didn’t realize this could be done. I’ve wanted my abuser to pay for what he did, but it never happened. There were no report, and the only justice that came was from my own path of healing. This inspires me greatly! Thank you!
I think he IS paying for it. One way or another. xoxo
It’s all about being heard (and at times seen)…so very proud of you both. I went to my grandfather’s memorial service…and said what I needed to at his picture (he was cremated)…most liberating I felt in years. As one therapist said to me when I thought I was crazy for traveling 11 hours to go to my perpetrator’s memorial service, “You need to go to make sure he’s dead…put the nail in the coffin…” It made me giggle…and go.
I dedicate my life to helping survivors find their voice. I’d love for you both to check out my website and the “I Have a Voice” videos. http://www.hopefulheartsministry.com
Blessings
Shannon M. Deitz
First of all, I love your therapist. I will be checking out your website, Shannon. We might need to chat.
Yes, let’s! It’s my soul purpose to help other survivors TELL their story…by having our voice we help others to heal. I have been reading everyone’s comments, stories, etc and it is heartwarming to know your post has led many to finally SPEAK. So much empowerment comes from having our voice.
Check out my personal “I Have a Voice Video” it was filmed two weeks after my journey to my grandfather’s service…it’s a bit raw…*might be a trigger to some…please be cautious*
http://youtu.be/X2Lafso2sWQ
So brave. I haven’t yet had the courage to confront my molester. My husband knows at least but when I finally had the courage to tell my mom when I turned 18 (years later) that I was molested for 5 years by my father, she blew me off basically and I haven’t spoken of it since. (I’m in my 30s now). How do you get the courage to destroy your family? It’s hard enough just to write it here.
Well, I guess the answer to that is- my family was already destroyed. Obviously. And I am so, so sorry you were not believed. I believe you.
I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that you were destroying your family, or even that I destroyed mine. I am having trouble imagining what will happen for my mother, my brother, my children, etc. if I say something. I worry about how it will affect them and the idea they have of family. I feel like everyone thinks my dad is awesome and I worry at this point I will just be ruining our “family.”
Nothing truly bad ever comes of shining a light on the truth. There’s a reason you put the word family in quotes. You can only be ready when you are ready. I totally get that.
My family would tell you that I ruined everything when I told. Most of them wouldn’t speak to me today if we met on the street, but that’s okay… I didn’t lose anyone worth keeping. For me it wasn’t a matter of deciding when to talk about it. It was just that one day, I could no longer NOT talk about it.
I’ll tell you what I’ve told so many others, and what I can tell you already know in your heart- your family was already ruined. The truth cannot shatter an intact, healthy family. And I know what you mean- there comes a time when not speaking your truth is no longer an option. Hallelujah. xo
Oh, absolutely! I never saw such as messed up family as the one I came from. I left them 14 years ago. At first I thought, “I’ll miss some things about them, but it has to happen”. Well, I was wrong. I haven’t missed them. Sure, my dad has a great sense of humor, but you know what? LOTS of people have a great sense of humor, and most of them don’t belittle and insult me. And I could say something similar about each of them. I’m not saying life has been perfect in the last 14 years, but it is so much better than the first 36 years… I can’t even describe the difference.
I can’t seem to leave this page. Tears from pain and empathy and amazement. Thank you.
Just, (deep breath)..
Thank you. I had to write down my own report. It was important for me to do so. Thank you.
YES.
Brave! You are brave and inspirational! Just to be treated like you are telling the truth by the officer. He saw you. Listened. Wow! I’ve heard it said that, “Living well is the best revenge”. Keeping living well, and one day you’ll be dancing. Thank you for encourage the rest of us to take another step closer to dancing!
I have no words that will matter except thank you.
“He wrote it down” Those words have me in tears at my desk. I completely understand how powerful a moment that must have been. So courageous!
I have wondered what would have happened had I spoken up earlier.
Thank you so much for sharing your brave hearts.
Facing our truths and embracing that which has made us who we are is empowering. Not only surviving, but thriving makes us stronger than the perpetrator…telling our story again and again, reaffirms that which we overcome…reaching out to others with our story makes us whole. Sending you a hug for your amazing courage and desire to heal. Remember, each time your story is told, you leave a piece of that pain behind and in it’s place, a beautiful gem emerges that becomes the essence of you.
Jen Bartell
Your writing is exquisite. I grieve with you today, and hope this post (and the feedback you receive) is another piece of your healing. Thank you for sharing something so personal, so powerful, so painful – you managed to do it so beautifully. xoxo
POWERFUL. Thank you for sharing.
Stunning – honesty, love, HOPE! You are heroes! And Officer Paul has renewed my faith in law enforcement! Thank you for sharing. We honor your story!
Laura, once again you leave me with tears and amazement. I am so proud of you and happy to know you are lighter than the day before. Hugs!
It gets easier. I have found that after the first time I said it and had the worst panic attack I have ever had. But now if I feel that I can say it to someone and trust in the response it is easier. No panic attack!! I applaud you! There are so many more sisters out there that need to know that no matter how long ago it happened say it. Tell your story. Thank you for being brave! You probably will never know how many lives you just touched and how much this may have freed someone to tell their story. From the bottom of my heart THANK YOU!!!
Thank you for writing this. It moved me to tears and means more than you know. We share similar stories. No one wrote mine down, but I DO have a grave to dance on…off I go.
let me know what song you pick. we are still pondering that one. xo
So powerful. This essay is too.
So powerful and beautiful. Thanks for putting it out there.
As I read with tears running down my face my three year old boy saw your photo and asked, “who are those guys, mama”? I took a deep breath and told him between ragged breathes that you were super hero’s. “What’s those guys powers”? They tell the truth, baby, even when it’s so so hard. Now the next question is obvious and I wasn’t able to give him an answer. “Where’s their super capes”?
Do you have capes? Do you need me to make some and send them cause I sew and I could make you the best super hero cape ever in the world because that’s how brave you are and hero’s need capes. You just let me know, okay?
But there WILL be consequences and there WILL be justice for all that he has done–please know that. What a beautiful thing it is, to start healing. May you feel our Redeemer’s love who bore your burden as His own. He has the balm for your open wounds.
Found you through Momastery. Absolutely brave and beautiful. Keep writing it down!
how awesome for you to speak your truth and release your childhood self from the burden she’s been carrying. I am still so grateful to the God/fate/the universe that Officer Paul was working on that particular day. It was the right time for you and your cousin and sister to start healing, and with a police escort no less. Holding space for you strong women!
There are similarities I can relate to. My cousins and I went through different experiences at the hands of our step-grandfather. He groomed us all for some time – tickling us multiple times through the day when we would be visiting, even though we didn’t like it or want it. Of course the tickling gradually moved to touching inappropriately on the outside of clothing. And when I was 11 my grandparents were at our house watching myself and siblings for the weekend while my parents were away at a conference. He caught me in my room in the morning and touched me under my nightgown—no penetration thank God—but it was traumatizing. I remember glaring at him and his awful blue eyes. I took a shower and cried. It was a couple days before my parents got back (or maybe it was the next day) but by that time my brain was coping by denial….or whatever but I didn’t know how to talk about it or bring it up to my parents. I just remember some time later finding out from my cousin Becky that he touched her too. And we warned our younger sisters and cousins to stay away from him – if he tries to tickle you — FIGHT we said. Somehow, as children we were unable to fight by talking about it to the adults in our lives. I had a dream I stabbed him to death. I hated him. Well, a couple years later my parents were in the middle of a divorce and we had moved to the same town as my grandparents. A different cousin living in Michigan had come forward to her Mom about him touching her when our grandparents were over in MI visiting. She reported it to the police and an investigation was underway. I felt like it was my fault that he had touched my cousin because I wasn’t able to say anything before. Many years later my sister told me he had touched her when she was 5. So that means he had touched her before he touched me. The point is. It wasn’t my fault what he did. Anyway, I finally got the courage to break the silence and I told my brother and my boyfriend on December 30th. The next morning he died of a heart attack. I was incredibly happy. We went to the movies (my brother and I with a friend of ours who had a car and could drive us). I am still glad to this day he died. I cried at his funeral—not out of sadness, but a release and a relief that he was dead. I can totally relate to the sentiment of dancing on someone’s grave, although I haven’t literally done that. I know what it is like to share a bond through trauma with my cousins and I know the joy of celebrating someone’s death.
I was 13 when he died.
You are heard, anonymous. Brave for posting. Mine committed suicide 3 yrs ago. I’ve processed the side of him that was a family member. I don’t know how to process, or even start processing, that my abuser is dead. He can’t hurt me anymore. He can’t see me anymore.
Thank you for pointing out to the rest of us the dangers of not speaking up, and bottling up the pain.
While not easy to hear if one is keeping quiet about your emotional, physical, or spiritual abuse, not speaking up is really silent consent to evil. It harms others. Then, adds guilt to the other pain we feel …constantly!
I am 72 and a male. The sexual abuse I suffered at the hands of my Scoutmaster, as an early adolescent and for several years, I bottled it up and pushed it down inside for a few years.
I behaved like the many, many, many men who are not sharing here and would be wise to do so.
Then, one youth had the courage to cry out about how he’s been wronged. I gained courage from his. I did too.
That teacher / scoutmaster went to jail. I dance on his grave every time I tell my story.
I do again every time I forgive Bob because bitterness and hate of our abusers are simply other forms of prison. And forgiveness is like peeling an onion. It has lots and lots of layers.
By sharing my story and its awful consequences for me and those I didn’t protect because of my silence at every reasonable opportunity, I continue to implore men, whenever I can, to SPEAK UP!
GET FREE! Don’t allow Satan to get away with the pain he’s causing you.
I am so sorry that happened to you, Gary- and so proud of you for speaking your truth when you were ready to do so. Maya Angelou said, “When you know better, you do better.”
Love the quote you used to encourage me! Thank you for your kindness!
You and Mary did more than dancing on the grave could have ever accomplished. You bravely gave voice to a silenced story and opened the door to living in your truth and in freedom. Whenever we find the way and the courage to stand confidently (even just a little confidently) in the full light of truth, we save ourselves and others from the dark. Bless that scribe in a uniform. Bless you for showing up and being willing to do the crazy-brave and right thing that you did, and thank you for writing, empowering your experience, in words for others (even people like me who don’t know you) to read. There are too many women hiding in the dark of the secrets imposed on them in childhood and your story might give others the permission they need to walk towards freedom, too.
Thank you.
Laura. You are by far my favorite commenter on Glennon’s blog. How did I not know you had your own? Never you mind. I am just grateful I know now.
Let us weave that net so you and Mary and Aimee can rest, knowing you are loved.
Healing happens in some of the strangest places. I wish you all a little more healing than you had yesterday. Thank you for sharing your story and reminding us that it is never to late to share ours.
Bravo!!!! Standing ovation for you beautiful, brave souls.
Sometimes truth is not beautiful. But bravery is. Real bravery. This bravery. And the ripples…. staggeringly beautiful.
YES. Rhea, sometimes the truth is so ugly. Bravery never is.
So powerful, to take that step, to speak that terrible truth. I want to call it a triumph; it is justice regardless of the fact that no judge will ever convict, no years behind bars will be served. It is still justice. Love and healing to you all.
You have a gift for putting your thoughts so beautifully into words. I’m thankful that at the time and place you were ready to tell, that God placed the perfect person to listen and write it down. No judgement, just a simple understanding that as victims you were ready to let out all that you had kept in. Thank you, for your courage and strength!
My name is Marche and my grandchildren call me Momelle!
What a brave and courageous truth you lived. The unlived and loss of your story was lived out, with fear and trembling. Compassionate Empowerment changes us and in turn changes the world. So beautiful, so inspiring. Such love.
i am going to pass this on . there are no words for the pain sexual assault causes but our voices must never be sillent.
He woete it down
eaxh of us MUST WRITE it down
Writing it down helps so much, even if you do it yourself. I thought telling my parents about my childhood piano teacher would help. During a college break, I told my mom. She got upset, called her boyfriend over, and when he showed up they went into her room and had loud sex. This was in a small one bedroom apartment. I played piano to cover up their noise. Not what I needed to be doing at that moment, within half an hour of telling my story! Later that week I told my dad. He said that maybe I had allowed it to happen because I liked it. No. My teacher went to school with my grandparents. He had bad breath. He told me my only way to get into college was through him. I got into college on a different instrument. I tried counseling, but never really felt heard. Finally I wrote down my story, and that made all the difference. After that it turned into a piece of my past, not as much a defining part of my present. It is not gone from my memory, but my thoughts on the subject are now much more detached and less visceral.
All those responses were ignorant and WRONG! I’m sorry you didn’t even feel heard by your counselor. That counselor should loose his/her license. It was NOT your fault, you were a child and he was an adult who was charged with caring for you and he didn’t. He took care of his own needs at your expense. I’m so sorry that happened. Please forgive yourself because you did no wrong. A good counselor would help you gain some self-care skills, but it sounds like you are doing that on your own. Good for you. You deserve all good things.
YES. Every single thing she said.
Tremendous. Ginormous. Amazing. thank you.
I don’t know his name…he was a teenager and his family rented the home owned by my family the house was on the same lot. I was under 9 years old! I hope wherever he and his sister are they find peace because this has not affected my adulthood.
Gasp! Rereading my comment and it has affected me…i believed it didn’t but reading this hurts! What awful thing to happen to anyone and i was just a baby…(sigh) i am crying out loud!
I was 6, it was the babysitters daughter. It’s been almost 30 years and I’m just now realizing the effect it had on me.
I don’t know the right thing to say, but I had to say something. You can write and face this with no response. I read it, and my heart aches.
I am so very sorry. You have written it down. You have made a start. So brave.
YES! I am so glad you wrote about not being affected/being affected, This is EXACTLY how I felt. I thought I was over these things, but I was recently confronted with someone living through similar abuse, and it ALL came back. I realize now that those fears from that time affect my choices DAILY. And it makes me so ANGRY.
I’m angry, too. I’m angry for all of us.
WOW! YOU ladies sport bigger cajones than most people can lay claim to. Bravo for your courage and willingness to grow and become outstanding people in spite of what happened to you. I commend you!
http://meaganmcgovern.squarespace.com/imported-20120513033717/2013/7/3/my-mothers-world.html
I bear witness. I honor you. Solidarity.
Bless your hearts for sharing this poignant and powerful story.
Just cheering you on for being so brave, and true, and filled with such grace. What an exquisite piece of writing and message of hope to show many out there who suffer in the darkness. Just so much yes to you, and Mary, and Aimee.
My 8 year old son told a doctor that he was molested by my step-father, but when CPS got involved my son denied it and there was nothing we could do. I feel sure that something went on and hope he’ll tell me about it when he’s ready. Luckily we have moved out of state.
can you do this for me? Can you tell him, every day, that you believe him? Kids don’t lie, as a rule.
He refuses to talk about it. My mother abused him physically and he goes crazy at the mention of their names. He is in therapy because not surprisingly he is prone to anger.
AMEN! I’ve read so many comments…and reading the request to tell him every day that you believe him…opened the floodgates. That’s the healing I need. I need to be told I believe you. WOW–there is healing starting up in this place. Praise the Lord, Christ Jesus saves and restores!
This is astonishingly good. My mother couldn’t write hers down. Too many years of poison and abuse. Too much pain. I wrote down what I could.
http://meaganmcgovern.squarespace.com/imported-20120513033717/2013/7/3/my-mothers-world.html
going and reading it now, Meagan.
I plan on wearing red to the funeral and singing Bob Dylan’s “Masters of War” when my abuser dies. This must have been such a release for these woman. Xo
that is a good fucking song.
Bravo. Literally. To you both, and to Officer Paul Smith.
Impressive! Thank you for having the courage to unite and share. You are a kick ass writer.
Isn’t she?!
My uncle abused me for four summers until I gained so much weight that he found me unattractive. He laid in a nursing home in a vegetative state for years and I could never make myself go and tell him that he what he did to my soul. Over 40 years have passed and I am still haunted. No one ever knew.
I know. You told me. I’m going to write it down.
I am writing it down in the pages of eternity. I am praying for your healing.
I’m writing it down too. All of it for everyone of you.
You are so brave even though you may not feel like it, maybe you do, I hope so because you are. I am grateful that you shared this to the world. I’m grateful that when you turned to Officer Paul that he gave you want you needed and DESERVED. “He wrote it down.” It is on the record. He not only wrote it down, but seems to have given you the time and care this deserved. “He wrote it down.” It’s there. For me he died in 2005. I wasn’t sure how to feel about it then and now I feel more sorrow for him than anger. I feel that I have time, he doesn’t. “He wrote it down.” And it cannot be erased.
Absolutely powerful! Thank you for opening your wounds and your hearts to us. To the world. There are so many of us who have suffered because of others. Writing it down, speaking about it are healing. When I recall the people and situations in my life that hurt me, I try to remember that I was put in that situation for a reason, for a bigger reason in my life, in someone else’s life. I may not know who or why yet, but there is a reason. I can remember but I can’t let the hurt and the wondering why hurt me anymore. To much life to live. Bless you, again for sharing.
What a wonderful police officer. I’m so glad they exist these days. Unfortunately, not all people in police and legal work are that compassionate or understanding. Back when it happened, and even years after, if a young person tried to report such an event, they would be questioned in a blaming and harmful way, required to go through medical tests that were equally abusing and required to testify in court with an actively hostile lawyer on the other side challenging their experience. I’m glad you avoided that part of the reporting! As recently as 5 years ago, this happened to a teen in Montana whose teacher had an “affair” with her. When she reported it, the legal system was abusive and she was blamed by the judge in the case. She eventually suicided and the man of course broke his parole and was given one month in prison for that. The judge was drummed off the bench by public opinion and the offender was re-tried, but that didn’t help the victim. I’m sorry to remind this group that we still have a long way to go before victims of sexual abuse all receive compassion and the care they need. The report by these women was tremendously brave and I’m so glad they found it to be healing.
There is not a doubt in my mind that our experience was not the norm. But this is how things change, yes? Saying things out loud. Having the hard conversations. Looking at the broken pieces. Thank you for saying this. What was that girl’s name? Let’s say it out loud, like a prayer.
Cherice Morales
Thank you! For speaking out when so many still can’t! Your both Amazing!
I am wondering if you have the time to take out of your incredibly brave and shakey and ‘oh my gosh life is cruel but beautiful’ day to send me an email. I have a request for you if you are willing. March on you little warrior!!! XOXO from Montana.
My email address is inotherswordsblog@gmail.com I am waiting to hear from you.
Reblogged this on AMentalHealthHack and commented:
Breath Taking. Thank you Laura <3
I’m so impressed with the police officer who handled the entire process with such respect and honor. I don’t imagine that taking down the report was NECESSARY (in the legal sense) after so many years and since he was dead, but the fact that he did so anyway is obviously such an important act. I’m so glad you guys decided to stop at the police station, and I’m so glad he was the one to take down your words.
LAURA! Just Wow. Your Courage is breathtaking. It is work like this that allows me to keep moving along in my own trauma work. Thank you for sharing your experience and continuing to remind us all that we are not alone. I reblogged to share with my people. Big Love to you and your cousin <3
Gratitude, gratitude gratitude.
LIVE.OUT.LOUD.
Bravery. Thank you for sharing your story. Even though I was not sexually abused as a child I was abused by my first husband. Verbally, mentally, and sexually. Many people have brushed off that a husband can sexually abuse a wife because I was married to him. Well I’m here to say that they can and do. When I got divorced, I waited 10 years to get an annulment in the Church. When I had to go in and “testify” the young man recorded everything and I had to bring in a written testimony. It was very powerful writing it down and telling someone else. My ex-husband didn’t go in in the prescribed time frame so the Monsignor in charge of the “case” ruled that my husband treated me like his personal property, not a human being. I finally felt VALIDATED. It was a feeling that I cannot even put into words. I felt that someone finally had heard me and treated me with dignity. My ex decided to go in and give his testimony then, even though the time limit was past. After he gave his side of things the Monsignor CHANGED his decision basically to say we got married too young. I felt stripped. It’s been 6 years since I went in for the annulment. I received the paper for it, but now it really means nothing to me. How sad that that Monsignor changed his reason for granting it. If he had added that reason to the decision that’s one thing, but he actually changed it. Ingorance. I may write a letter someday to that Monsignor to tell him how discarding my testimony made me feel as a human being. I don’t feel like he treated me with the same respect he gave to a man.
That is maddening. And madness. I am so sorry that happened to you, and so proud that even though you did not get the outcome you deserved, you SPOKE YOUR TRUTH. xo
I am so sorry that things happened that way. It is absolutely disgusting that the Monsignor did a 180 on you. Please don’t let the fact that the annulment got an official okay mean nothing — he got it right the first time. I have a little familiarity with the process and know that it’s not designed to be easy, but to have done this to you is so wrong. But you got it, and you know why, and now so many more of us know why.
Having worked for “the church,” I’m sorry to say that your last sentence has a 99% likelihood of being true.
I don’t know what to say except I support you and can feel the relief of someone taking this seriously. On your team!
Reblogged this on BraveGirl Coaching and commented:
Trigger Warning: sexual assault mentioned, not described
Thank you for writing this. Thank you for reporting it so many years after it happened. Yes, there is no re-opening wounds that never closed. I was six when it happened to me. I didn’t realize I’d been blaming myself for it until I was 35 and my daughter was six. Every time we write about it, we give someone permission to do the same…to release themselves of that crushing weight. Big hugs to you and love on your journey.
I only wish the Catholic Church took these reports as seriously as Officer Paul did when their victim survivors found the strength to tell their stories after many years of suppression. Acknowledgement by “writing it down” is so much better than hiring lawyers and spending millions of dollars to fight these brave survivors in court. Shameful indeed compared to Officer Paul’s interest in helping you girls heal.
You ladies are amazing. I don’t know that I would have been able to share something like this if it happened to me. I was blessed with an amazing Aunt who shared a similar story with me and I feel so honored that she trusted me with her pain. Thank you for trusting all of us and thank you to Officer Paul – what an amazing man. A tribute to the badge for sure!
I have never written mine down, and doubt that I ever will. I still feel guilty that I didn’t tell my parents when it was happening. Go figure.
Tell me. Start there. My email address is inotherswordsblog@gmail.com I will listen.
I hope you read my post below. I never told anyone either….until today. I wrote it down here.
Connie, I read your post. I have a couple of thoughts. You saying, “it wasn’t rape” seems as though you think we are in the Hardship Olympics. We are NOT. Honey, you do not have to out-suffer me. I hear your story. It HAPPENED. I am right here with you. You SURVIVED. Well done, you.
It was my step grandfather back in the late 1950’s early 1960’s. I was under 10 years old. I never told anyone at the time. It lasted for a few years. He and my grandma were only married about 7 years. They never divorced but he moved out and they continued to see each other everyday, so I saw him all the time until he died in 1977. I never wanted to have anything to do with him during all those years. My dad and stepmom saw him a lot too. My mom and her brothers never liked him. I should have told someone but I was ashamed. It was not rape, but fondling me and him putting my hand on him….and French kissing. He said he was doing that to make my grandma jealous. He would call to her in the kitchen and tell her he was making her jealous. So yes, I think she knew what was going on, but I think it might have happened to her when she was a little girl and she thought it was somehow ok .I’m so glad that I never lost my love for her. That would have killed her. I should have told someone. I’m 64 and have never told anyone before today. Not even my hubby. I am writing it down here with you all. Maybe I’ll feel better now.
Connie you are a survivor. You are brave. You are worthy.
You shared your story with us today and I am so glad you did. Please don’t feel alone. You’ve taken a step into the light by sharing this and there are so many of us survivors standing next to you in that light.
Connie, I hear your story and I validate you and your bravery for telling it. Blessings on you, sister.
Thank YOU for writing it down! Powerful, heartbreaking, and inspiring all at once. Thank you.
Within a similiar context..
i wanted to divorce both of my parents.
I was that angry.
Then a child star beat me to this action and became the first one to do so.
I still thought about the need for action, while keeping my motives in sight.
I told others what was happening to me.
I heard from many to let go; of course no one i told had similiar experiences or they were like loyal soldiers putting on a front.
I confronted my parents who replied that ‘others had it so much worse’ and i was just ‘feeling sorry’ for myself. Much later on i found out that both of my parents did have it much worse and had lived in silence and also repeated this abuse…that was what they were taught…they did not know different…they had just passed abuse down…oh that is hard to swallow.
Then one day i found myself at one of my parents funerals. It had taken every ounce of a friends courage for me to just show up and stand there and come face to face with one who had brought me into this world and was now stone cold silent.
My anger had become like malicious rust. I wanted so badly to give the shame and hurt back or it at least to run it over but found it still alive in my rearview mirror… what about that would biblically ‘honor my father or mother?’
Instead i gave myself a gift…to leave that chain there…to be free.
Walking away and knowing better and teaching my children different and creating a new family legacy of seeing and hearing and honoring one another is enough. I walked away in peace. I am sharing the gift of this peace right now, for the first time. I believe i honored truth that my family had yet to be able to.
Thank you for sharing your story…you gave me permission to share by doing so!
Here’s what I have found myself saying OVER AND OVER AND OVER. This is not the Hardship Olympics. Just because someone else had it “worse” doesn’t mean your story isn’t worth telling. Nobody wins in that contest.
I think the point is missed and maybe it was my error for trying to jam my story into a few minutes before i had to run out the door to wear my taxi driver hat.
What was the worst was my parent did not ‘rest in peace’ by sharing, seeking and letting go of life taking secrets.
Because i did theses things i can LIVE in peace as well as rest.
I found compassion for my parents.
I see where abuse started in my family shame chain.
I am grateful to be released from what bound me.
I made it to the other side.
I am a new creation.
Oh. Sweet sister. YES.
I was molested by our neighbor from the age of 8 until I was 11 (I am 36). I never disclosed. He committed suicide 3 years ago and I often thing about visiting his grave, perhaps to dance, perhaps to pray, perhaps a little bit of both.
Dancing, praying…. same/same?
I am sobbing at the gift the officer gave to you guys. He wrote it down! How many more of us are there out there who just need to report a crime – and have the officer write it down? Thank you for telling the story.
The headline to this story took my breath away…but I still felt compelled to read on. Something old and almost forgotten stirred in me. Seems dancing on a grave might be a victim’s way of saying “you can’t hurt me anymore!”
I too, thought dancing on his grave would somehow bring me JOY. How many of us are there…I wonder? Victims of those who were supposed to love and protect us…
How beautiful the healing that comes when the Truth comes to Light! Only God can bring such beauty from the ashes. May HE strengthen and bless all (those who are injured/broken and those who deeply care and encourage them). May you now – dance in the light of freedom from your past!
I’d love to have you guest blog on my site. I write through the lens of recovery and deal with issues of sexual abuse/incest/addiction/recovery. I have a lot of woman asking questions and coming clean with their own abuse. This would be such a brilliant resource for them to feel heard, validated. Please check out this entry for more info on my work and let me know if you’re interested. Thanks so much. Matt Bays
http://mattbayswriter.com/past-away/
I am interested.
Matt- Thank you for continuing to put traction on this, to me, most important issue. I hope to see this and more of your work up 🙂
amgregory…you are welcome. it’s difficult to get anyone talking about these things…and men really struggle to come forward. Blog articles like this one give people a “safe place” to hear another story if they are not ready to tell their own, while building up courage because they realize they are not alone, crazy, they weren’t complicit with their abuser. These words just tore me up yesterday, yet I couldn’t be more grateful for them.
my abuser is my big brother … you know, the one you should be able to trust … to be there for his little sister. I told my parents when i was 16 and he admitted it but also said i asked for it. I was only 5 when it started … i didnt know what IT was, so how could i have asked for it. he finally left me alone when i got my period at 14. My mum told me i wasn’t allowed to tell anyone else… as it was my fault anyway. She stilll does not believe me an wants us all to be together again as one big fake happy family. He’s got his own daughter now and teaches 5 and 6yr olds. Still waiting to truly tell my story… but will wait until my parents pass away… then i will yell it to the world … thats my plan anyway … if i can be as brave as you!……………………… for now i just keep on hiding and hoping he isn’t hurting anyone else……………
mouse, I don’t know if I have the right to reply to this, not having been in your situation, but please — he has a little girl. He is teaching small children. People do not simply stop abusing children — they keep going until someone stops them. Please tell. Please report him. Maybe Laura can help you figure out what you might be able to do with this.
I wish i could …
Oh, baby. You asked for exactly nothing.
Please. This happened to my friend too. And my mother. And her adopted sister. It will continue to be common if we are silent. So many of my friends have told me about their own sexual abuse. It is unacceptable. Even I was molested. I told my mother. She wouldn’t and still won’t believe it- even though it happened to her. You have to stop the cycle. And find new family who supports you. Family doesn’t have to be blood relatives. It’s whoever cares and wants to be there to support you. I’ve given up my relationship with my mother, and it truly is freeing.
Please don’t keep it to yourself. There are so many potential victims that you could save from the atrocity. My son was abused by the son of a daycare provider. We never doubted him and went all the way to court. He still deals with residual issues as a young adult despite years of therapy when we found out. The thing that makes me so sad is that abuser as an adult just recently was arrested for multiple felonies related to the same abuse. They could have been prevented. We did everything we could and have no regrets or guilt. If you know he is a risk to other children you will be crushed to find out he is still victimizing. This us just my humble opinion. God bless.
i can’t … i have no energy to fight this. i have so little of me to put out there, so i save what i have to be the best mother for my children. i wish there was a way i could without my family knowing that i was the one to step up.. they will crush me more than they already do. i shrink away from confrontation, as abuse was a daily part of my childhood, accompanied by another brother who was violent. not now, not yet … one day i will find the strength.
Girl, in the words of Oprah Winfrey in The Color Purple “You oughta bash Mister’s head and think about heaven later!” My point is, as Anne Lamott has said, “If people wanted us to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.” WILL it hurt the family? Yes. WILL it screw things up? Definitely. But Mouse…you must tell your story. It is not your job to protect your family. Start with a therapist first. And you may never need to speak with your family about it…because they may not be worthy of your story (YOUR TRUTH)…but that doesn’t mean you have to hide it…those days are over. Hoping you get some help to walk through all of this. Hiding it will only increase the shame and put way to much responsibility on your to keep the peace.
YES. Everything Matt said. your ONLY job in this, Mouse? Is surviving. And I don’t think you are a mouse. I think you are a lioness.
I love that Anne Lamott quote.
my therapy is my painting .. though when i get interviewed for my exhibitions i can not tell the true meaning behind my art work. The truth that i would love to be able to let free…
mouse, I don’t know if you will see this or not, but I will be holding you in prayer. You are in a painful situation and hanging on as best you can. Having suffered from depressing for decades, I think I have at least some grasp of the “this is all the energy I have” state of being.
Something you might want to consider — in our state, I’m almost positive that you can report anonymously, or at least in confidence. You might want to call your local Child Protective Services and ask them if that is possible. I am NOT trying to badger you into doing something for which you are not yet strong enough, only thinking that you might be able to get some information or lay the groundwork for the time when you feel more ready.
Even it you aren’t able to report at this time, HE is responsible for the damage he is inflicting, not you. Have you been able to talk to someone else at all about this for support? Maybe an online group? My heart aches for you.
mouse, I am glad that painting helps. One day you will get to the next step, and until then, paint away. I am glad you posted again, because out of all of these sad stories, yours caught my heart particularly. It’s not a matter of comparing one story to another’s – I have read almost all of these – but something about yours…I don’t know. I’m happy to have found it again, because I wanted to tell you that I have been praying for you.
I am crying. I am sat here on my couch at home, crying. God bless you both. From one who survived to another who survived, God bless richly. Also Officer Paul, who wrote it down. God bless him so very much too.
Thank you for sharing this story
Thank you for this incredible story. WOW!
I don’t read blogs. I don’t search for things like this on the internet. My wife likes to text me links to things that may “help” me sort out the chaos from my past. Admittedly, most of the time I don’t actually read them. I am kind of a jerk that way. For some reason I read this post, not sure why, but I did. This in turn, lead me to read several of your others on this topic. I am 33 y/o. I am a husband, father, son, and brother. I am paramedic. I ride a motorcycle. I shoot guns. I build custom chainsaws. My friends tell me I can be intimidating. I tell them I am an ego-maniac with an inferiority complex. I am a recovering addict. I am a fixer. I’m a know it all. I am a victim of sexual abuse. I starting “working” on this part of my past within the last year. My “monster” is also my grandfather. He is still living. Makes for some interesting circumstances when I start setting these “healthy boundaries” that people keep telling me about. I can definitely relate to the shame. I have spent my life thinking that this thing inside of me was so insidious that I couldn’t possibly put that ugliness on anyone else. Besides, who would believe me now? How would that change the way the world sees me? My son would then view me as less of a man. That is how this disease has kept me sick. It has tricked me into thinking that telling on it will make it worse. I heard someone say ” what grows in the dark, will surely die in the light” This has grown in me for years and years. It has consumed every aspect of my life. It has ingrained in me the true meaning of hopelessness. I know that there is a ton of work to do on my part. I find myself truly terrified at times. Terrified at what memories will come back now. Since I started working on this, my memory has went into overdrive recounting things that I had forgotten and buried decades ago. The details don’t seem as bad as the feelings and emotions that come with them. My shrink says the only way out, is through. I have put my complete trust into her, so I am going with it.
To make a long story short, Thank You. Thank you for having the courage to write so openly about what has happened to you. Thank you for letting me read your story. Thank you for sharing hope. Boy that is something that can be in short supply. I admire the strength you have. You story has given a boost in the “faith” area. One of the things I try to do these days is express my gratitude. I am afraid I can’t put into words the amount of hope I get when I see that other people have made it to the other side of this. So again, Thank you for sharing this with me.I think I will start to read those little links my wife sends me. (Bless that wonderful woman)
Oh. Danny. I do not actually know what to say to you, right now. I am going to sit. And pray.
I am really proud of you.
That’s all I’ve got right now.
In some circumstances words are not necessary. I find solace in simply knowing there is someone else out there that understands what I can not always put into words. The paradox is that I also hurt for you (and anyone else) who has had to bear such a horrible thing. I am grateful for having “met” you even if only through a few short messages.
With you too, bro. I understand, I’ve been there. Honestly, Danny…my years from 28-35 took the deepest toll negatively on me. All the memories and questions stung the most during those years. I couldn’t get away from them, so I drank. Stay with your therapist and remember that when it feels absolutely out of control, that’s when you are probably closer than ever to a breakthrough. (on a side note…don’t drink too much 🙂 …really slowed down my progress.)
Danny I stand in solidarity with you as a survivor of sexual abuse. I am holding space in my heart for you and your pain and your recovery.
I hope it is okay that I’m sharing here on a blog that is not my own. But I’m just so overcome by everyone and I’m inspired to keep our stories shouting out loud and clear. I think together the shame can finally be placed on our abusers instead of owned by us. Danny, I am so proud of your strength and moved by your words. I would love for you to check out this site: http://triggerpointsanthology.com . I learned of them when I shared my own story at http://thecounterstool.me . They are looking for people to share their stories. They’ve been reaching out to men because as you say, your wife is the one who usually reads and shares these with you. Maybe things all happen for a reason. I’m holding you in a loving space. Thank you
Danny.. saying a prayer for you tonight 🙂
Thank you for the kind words.
Danny, something you said here really stuck to me. You referred to believing your son would think of you as less than a man. I think so many men feel or have felt like that. I am currently working on a project for survivors who are mothers and fathers. I would very much like for you to join our community and considering submitting an essay to our project. We need fathers like you! Even if you are not interested, I would love the opportunity to talk to you more about what it is like for fathers, as we have had very few men reach out to us. Here is the link to our Facebook page. You can learn more about the anthology and reach out via email if you have any interest at all in talking more in private. Thank you so much for you response here…many are reading it and your bravery is contagious. ~Dawn
https://www.facebook.com/TriggerPointsAnthology
Dawn,
I will check out that link sometime later today. I am probably the last person on the planet that isn’t too familiar with facebook, but I’ll give it a shot. I also drive a snow plow truck, so the weather has kept me very busy the last few days. It is 2:30 am here and I am getting ready to go out again. I tend to be overcome with anxiety when I start to talk about this topic so I have been trying to practice “baby steps” maybe talking to you first would be a good way to ease into it. I will contact you and we can start there. Thank you for your kind words.
Danny,
One in 3 girls will be abused before their 18 birthday, and 1 in 5 boys. This translates into millions of young men struggling with the after effects. Millions of young macho athletic boys have been molested by their coaches, agents and other people involved in their sport training and careers. This doesn’t make them less macho or less manly. They were still children whose trust was violated and lives shattered. I hope you find the courage to tell your son. It is only through education and information and letting him know that this can be talked about in the light of day, that he will a) know abuse when he sees it , and b) have the voice, the words and the haven to speak should it ever happen to him. Don’t deny him that. I didn’t find out about my children’s decade long abuse from their father/step father until my youngest daughter turned 18. It shattered the entire family. Every life was turned inside out. One son withdraw-no admission no denial but a history of self mutilation. The eldest son (his bio son) seems to have dissociative personality and the daughter has severe PTSD and is suicidal. There is nothing left of my family. Nothing. I never knew. I never suspected.
The statement I made in my initial comment about my son thinking less of me is a thought I have fought with since the day I became a father. The only thing I have ever experienced in my life, that has had a greater effect on me than my childhood, is my drive to protect my child from any harm that may come his way. By the grace of my higher power I managed to have a conversation with him almost a year ago. He doesn’t know all the details now, but they are not relevant. He knows in very clear terms what happened to me. I chose not to mix words or find an “acceptable” way to describe what we were talking about. I spent quite a bit of time trying to decide what I would have needed to hear, as a child, to feel safe enough to tell my parents. So it prompted a very open line of communication between the two of us. Part of the reason I didn’t talk about it as a child is because I didn’t know how to say it. My son will never be at that same loss for vocabulary. I am sure there is a long list of mistakes I have made as a parent, but two things my child knows with certainty: he is loved, truly loved and that I will protect him until the last breath of life leaves my body.
Danny, as I am sure you know, those uncomfortable conversations- while not a fail-safe against abuse- are your child’s very best protection against something similar happening. Good job.
It is not your fault…I feel so badly for moms and dads who had no clue and then wind up feeling responsible. These people are GOOD at what they do. They know how to choose their victims, how to hide things, how to make it look innocent, how to make you feel like you’re jumping to conclusions or going crazy. Don’t place blame where it doesn’t belong. I’m so sorry.
It is not your fault…I feel so badly for moms and dads who had no clue and then wind up feeling responsible. These people are GOOD at what they do. They know how to choose their victims, how to hide things, how to make it look innocent, how to make you feel like you’re jumping to conclusions or going crazy. Don’t place blame where it doesn’t belong. I’m so sorry.
Beautiful story! Shared. 🙂
I am survivor as well, abused by a family member too. I want to thank you and your wonderful cousin a thousand times for doing this and sharing this. Then I want to give Officer Paul the biggest hug ever given because we need more Officer Paul’s in this world.
Thank you for sharing your story; beautiful craftsmanship in your writing. You and your cousin chose to be so brave. Seeing the healing that is coming out of it through reading the comments is touching. “The truth will set you free…”
This is so incredibly powerful!! I adore these two brave women and their courage. I’ve walked a similar path and know the incredible courage it takes to do what they did. Reading this brought instant tears to my eyes, I sobbed like a baby. It took me nearly 30 years to do this very same thing. The difference was that my abuser was my best friends grandfather. I decided I would finally report the abuse when I found out from my friend that he was on his death bed. I didn’t want him to die thinking he got away with it. I knew nothing would happen to him, but it was for me and my recovery, not for him or any punishment. It took every bit of courage I had to walk in to that police station and report it. I shook like a leaf and was nauseous. The police officer almost refused me because of the SOL laws in NH, but thank fully had to do it because it happened in California where I grew up not NH where I live now. He wrote it out reluctantly and it was faxed to Los Angeles County SVU. Thankfully the officer in LA was very kind to me. He said ” I’m sorry there is nothing we can d, he is dying, but I want you to know that I’m sorry this happened and I want you to know, I believe you.” I sobbed on the phone and thanked him. His words meant more to me than words can ever say. I can’t explain exactly what happens to you when these things happen, sexual abuse but it changes you forever. Something dies inside of you that can never be fully returned. This is part of what I want people to understand when it comes to these things and reporting especially in cases like Bill Cosby where it takes the victim 30 years to report it. It takes as long as it takes for us to find the courage and face the incredible pain we feel and usually incredible shame as well. It’s not something we are raised to talk about, nor do we really want to talk about. It’s our dark secret that we hold dear to our heart and carry with us wherever we go. This is why even if nothing can be done and even if the person is already dead the victim should be able to have and officer take down the report, then tell them I’m sorry this happened to you and most importantly say to them “I believe you.” No victim should ever have that huge step in recovery taken from them.
This was so, so beautifully poignant. Shared on The Mama Bear Effect’s Facebook page. I’m sure our followers will appreciate this!
Wow. WoW. WOW! Bless you for tearing your dignity out of the clutches of shame. Rock on, sister!!!
I intend to do just that, Julie! xo
You are a wonder. I found your blog via Momastery, and saw your mention of Kintsukuroi in another post & I would love to send along – privately – something about that concept…can you see my email address?
I can. My email address is inotherswordsblog@gmail.com Thank you, Kayla.
How wonderfully brave you both are. I am not there and am not sure that will ever be, but you both give me hope.
I have so much love and admiration for you. And that officer… wow. We need more officers like him! From one survivor to another, I salute you!
After 30 years of pretending and 2 years of lots and lots of therapy, I have forgiven my abuser… my big brother…It took him ruining his own life to push me to the point where I was brave enough to shout all of the reasons why outloud. Whose life is this? Who has to say these things and then learn to find peace with them? Well its my life. It was me that had to admit the things my big brother and his friend did to me. But now? Our family is whole and healed but broken at the same time because my brother’s abuser who started all of this is still denying any of it happened. I am sad that the cycle of abuse might not break because that man is too sick and broken to deal with what he did. I am blessed that people finally listened and I have peace. Bless the officers and teachers and families and friends who believe the abused and give then a soft place to land.
Yes. Bless them indeed.
I wish someone had validated what happened to my mother before she died. She was told to keep quiet because it will “upset the family”. The thought that she died with this pain still in her heart is unbearable to me right now. Thank you for sharing your story… just beautiful.
I don’t know how I stumbled on this. I was abused from the age of 6 until I was 10. I have only recently found the courage to talk about it. I have never written about it. My mother knew but she won’t talk about it. I thought for years I was alone in my crazy world. When I was 38 I found out my sister was molested too. She is in prison. My family fractured.
Chills. Reading this gave me chills. Thank you for being brave. Brave at the police station, and brave here. Blessings on your head.
I have read this twice today with tears streaming down my face. I have things to say but thinking about writing them makes more tears and trembles and makes me feel like I have a big weight of sadness in my heart. But, I did want to say, that I read this, I found it beautiful and it affected me. Thank you.
When you are ready to tell me, I will LISTEN.
Seriously powerful story with an amazing message about healing. The power of the line “And then I would have ARRESTED him” (sic) has amazing potential to empower those coping with assault in the present and recent past. Thank you for sharing.
I have been sitting here staring at this comment box for a while, trying to decide what to do, write it down or just keep it inside still… The truth is for years I haven’t been sure I could call it anything or not and honestly I’m still not sure really. At 15-16 yrs old you think you should be old enough to say no and not let it happen, to get yourself out of the situation and because you didn’t or couldn’t get out of it you CAN’T call it anything because it was your fault… you were old enough to stop him. I dated a guy that was couple of years older than me and he liked sex. I had never had it before and was curious of course, but really wasn’t ready for that, I was good waiting. I was good with kissing and so was he, until he wasn’t anymore. He started getting really angry when things kept stopping at kissing and that anger quickly escalated while we were alone at his house. The first time he started having a pretty provocative convo with another girl online right in front of me, I got upset and asked him to drive me home. He flipped out, starting yelling in my face, throwing things, punched the wall right next to me and started grabbing me I was so scared I was just kind of paralyzed and didn’t stop him because I didn’t know what he was going to do if I tried. I was crying and I told him I didn’t want to have sex, he yelled and punched the wall again and before I knew it sex was over and I told him to take me home. The next time it was oral sex, he used his anger, rage and fear to make me give him what he wanted and once again out of sheer fear I did what he wanted. I was so ashamed, embarrassed and scared, I didn’t say anything to anyone. I called him after the second time and I told him to never get ahold of me again and he didn’t thankfully. I am still ashamed and embarrassed and 17 years later I still haven’t told anyone, not even my Husband, just typing it out here brings enough anxiety on it’s own. I still struggle with it all the time, it’s not something that ever just goes away, it haunts you. It sucks. I hate him so much for it. I dislike myself for not stopping him. If only we could go back in time!
Thank you so much for sharing your story with us, and to everyone else who has also shared theirs, it gave me that giant nudge I needed to finally tell someone even if I don’t know any of you, but I think that’s what helps. Praying you all sleep more peacefully tonight after getting it out, after writing it down.
Coersion=Rape. You said 15 or 16 is old enough to get yourself out of a situation or say “No.” Honey- you DID say no. You said no. And you were scared. Next time you are around a 15 year old girl- pay close attention. They are BABIES. They don’t even know what they don’t know. Please extend a little grace to younger you. And maybe look into getting some help. You should not have to carry this heavy thing. xo
What they said.
Sixteen is really young – but also, for anyone, in a brand new situation, there’s a lot of shock. The idea that somehow you are just magically going to know what to do and how to do it and how to do it in a way to protect yourself is expecting an awful lot. Also, you describe him as angry and violent – think for a moment that your instincts might have been protecting you. You got out of it with your skin intact. Maybe that seems pretty hollow, but it’s real.
My Uncle. I hate him. I invited him to my wedding last year. I didn’t want to hurt my cousins feelings or his wife’s. It was only touching: small mercies. I let him so do it so he’d leave my little sisters alone. He got to them anyway. I hate him.
My parents know. His sister knows. We kept quiet so my grandma wouldn’t know, it would have killed her. She’s died but we still keep quiet. They prayed. It might have worked.
One sister says she has forgiven him. The one I managed to protect a bit.
I can’t. I want to tell him everyone knows. I want to watch him squirm and see him collapse and suffer and die under the guilt. Thats vengeance though not healing. He’s a damaged man. I know that now. In some sense I knew it then.
I have a loving gentle husband, I have moved on. I still hate him. I want to hurt him for what he did to my sisters. I pray that they have escaped from the cycle. He was my first abuser. I did not feel I owned my body for many years. I let it belong to others who took it. I pray my little sisters had a better role model.
Thank you to everyone who stands witness, to everyone who writes it down.
My heart is breaking, not just over this beautifully written blog, but for all of the women who are posting comments here saying, “Me too! It happened to me too!”
You and Mary have done something here that is so brave and validating. Thank you for writing about it and sharing. I attempted to make a report years ago but unfortunately, it wasn’t received the way your story was. It was discouraging. Maybe again one day. This is most definitely a motivator to get me to that place again. What’s worse is my abuser went and found himself some Jesus juice, drank it right down and is now seen as a pillar of the community. I would be a villain if I spoke up…Someday I won’t give a shit. FYI…You’ve really made a mark with this piece. My partner shared it on our survivor community Fb page and it has been viewed almost 500 times. Just thought you would like to know that. YOUR STORY MATTERS TO US ALL! ~Dawn
Your story matters to me, Dawn. I’m sorry you didn’t have an Officer Paul. I am looking forward, with joy, to the day you no longer give a shit. I no longer give a shit. xo
You matter and there is healing. It’s not about sex but about power. Know you are not alone!
Dawn, your story breaks my heart, it took me 30 years and many battles with drugs and alcohol before I told anyone what happened to me. I applaud you for breaking your silence and your work on Facebook. I honestly don’t want to push or pressure you into anything you’re not ready to do. I totally understand your reluctance to be “the villain”, but please consider that Jerry Sanduski was once thought of as “a pillar of the community”. Studies show that most serial perpetrators spend as much time “grooming” the community as they do “grooming” their victims. The “Jesus Juice” you mentioned may just be a way for him to gain access to potential new victims.
Whatever you choose to do, I send all the strength and support you need. It may be additional motivation to surround yourself with friends and other survivors when you do reach “that place”. Please feel free to contact me via FB or directly at my email midwestmalethriver@yahoo.com
R. Carl Hart
BoD JustTell.org
BoD NAASCA.org
Dawn,
That’s even more of a reason to speak out. You would not be a villain! You would possibly be a hero. I can’t say what the heart of your abuser is, but what if he’s just playing the part and is a danger to others because he “seen” as a pillar in the community. You are important and what happened to you is important to be told. Get you some closure sweet girl.
~Angela
To drink the Jesus Juice may change his future and how he chooses to live, but it does not change his past and for that, there is a consequences, He needs to take accountability for his sin and the ripple effect sexual abuse has. Besides, you have no idea if his “holy roller” status is a license for him to take advantage of more victims as a “person of trust”
Oh Angela I feel that I would be seen as a hero in the right company, but truth be told most around him, including his mother and other family know what he did. They choose to look the other way. I spoke out years ago and once again wasn’t believed. Even had a DA tell me the case would be too difficult to prosecute. I’m one in many that will just have to wait to dance on his grave.
Jesus hates abuse and your abuser has no excuse for it. If he truly was a Christian he would feel conviction and admit fault. Otherwise he is a liar and a hypocrite, another thing Jesus hates. Any church that would support an abuser is a false one. I am so sorry that this is your experience.
I agree on all points but one. The Church (not a church) should definitely support the abuser. That support should be to help him take responsibility for his actions, to authentically apologize for his despicable crimes and to accept whatever punishment our society doles. One of the biggest challenges a person who has survived abuse faces is understanding the balance between justice and forgiveness. Justice is met by our society, forgiveness is offered to set the victim free. It doesn’t lessen the abhorrence of the abuse, but if offers real relief from the burden of hate.
I hear what you are saying. And I know, in my heart, that justice and forgiveness mare not the same thing. And that no abuser was born. They were all crafted.
If he truly got some Jesus juice, then he will understand that these things need to be addressed and he will seek forgiveness. Don’t be afraid to speak up. If he is just playing the role of Christian, then perhaps your testimony will still save others.
I wouldn’t think you were a villain. The people who would see you that way are as evil as the person who did that to you.
The people who would look at you as a villain are as evil as the person who abused you.
Dawn,
I beg you to try again to tell your story. Don’t wait until you don’t give a shit. That day will never come. Do it for yourself and do it for the victims current and future. Because there are undoubtedly both. One big reason sexual predators find religion is to create a facade of respectiblity behind which to continue their hunt and to open new avenues of access to victims. Tell until the right person hears you. They are closer than you think.
Dawn,
Your story MATTERS. I am so deeply sorry that your reach out was met with anything less than sympathy, acceptance, and compassion. It is troublesome that this individual is hiding under his cloak of lies but that is all they are, lies. In all honestly you are probably not the only victim and there are others out there. Maybe someday, somehow, another will speak up and start a landslide. I know personally that it takes a long time to no longer give a shit but when you do get there it is so immensely freeing. May your powers of strength, love, and grace multiply in vast quantities until one day you’ll realize you don’t give a shit too. Having that moment takes all of his power away and you’ll be free of his lies. Until then please know, you’re surrounded by those who love you and your combined strength is your best shield. Have peace…
Rebekah
Dawn, If your abuser really has drank the Jesus juice and is a true believer, one of the first things he should have done is come to you and beg forgiveness. And he should have done it knowing there was the possibility that you would spit in his face and unload all the pain and rage for what he stole from you; knowing that you might tell him that you will never forgive him. He should have done it anyway. I hope that you have someone that you can unburden all your pain to. I’m just now beginning the process. Until I started putting pen to paper and telling what happened to me, I didn’t understand how important is was for me to do so.
It takes a lot to come forward. It’s putting yourself out there to feel vulnerable when we somehow blame ourselves even though we shouldn’t. It’s a dirty feeling, a sickening feeling that was given to us survivors from our attackers. I was fortunate enough to come forward right away and had a wonderful officer as well. In my case, I was a freshman in college and I was just sitting on my front porch when I was attacked from behind. I cannot tell you all the years of feeling scared and petrified knowing this person was out there but never caught. Then 17 years later, March 2011… My attacker was booked on another charge Andy new law to get your cheek swabbed for DNA, was just put in place in January 2011. His DNA was matched with 3 women in the system. They know they were more women that either did not report it, or did not make it out alive. Do you have all rapist was now named Curtis Boyd. There was now a name to this monster.
I had known since 2005 that I had that there were two other girls and that we all match the same DNA… Police just didn’t know whose DNA. He denied it for almost 2 years while he awaited his trial. He asked for a plea deal 3 days before his trial was to begin for all 3 of us together ready to testify against him. None of us had knew our attacker and we were attacked a few years from each other. But we were a common thread as survivors and we were ready to see him get finally get justice on Earth. It was hard. It’s still hard sometimes, but I feel stronger with every moment I volunteer for PEACC, with every word I speak to advocate standing up against sexual violence. Everyone heals in different ways. For me, I heal by knowing I’m helping others. That volunteering at PEACC give me true peace. To speak and tell my story, knowing I could help just one person come forward or educate gives me such healing. In my opinion, just because we don’t talk about it, doesn’t mean we don’t feel it and see it and know that it’s happening. The more that survivor speak up for the voiceless… The more the voiceless can find their voice.
I want to say that out of my experience… I am now very good friends with the police officer, Detective Anne Cohen (sex crimes) who caught my attacker. Our friendship is one light that has come out of this tragic experience. So, I heal by knowing that I can use my negative as a positive to make a difference. That my life matters and my truth can help others.
In late summer 2013 he was finally sentenced to 33 years in prison. 11 years for each one of us. This was the beginning to my soul healing. Almost 20 years… I am now on a mission to help other survivors and keep helping with the It’s On Us campaign… Paying it forward. That is what’s right for me.
IT’S ON US to use our Green Dot!
yes, it happened to me too, by my grandfather. Oh how I hated him for wrecking me, and our family. We were never the same after that. Gone were the wonderful, absolutely wonderful weekends I would spend with my grandmother. He denied it all after it came out. My life at home had always been difficult and I had always looked forward to staying at my grandparents house on the weekends. Until that happened. I missed my grandmother so much. She was elderly and had never driven a car in her life. So she couldn’t come to see me. I struggle with so much hate in my heart. The only time I could see my grandmother was at church. And he was sitting right next to her. I pray for God to remove this bitterness from my heart. I have been praying this prayer for a very long time. I am a pastor’s wife, and I love the Lord. But I still struggle greatly.
Praying for you. I am also a pastor’s wife and hurt is real for us all but sadly I think most pastor’s wives think they need to be super-human, we aren’t. Your pain is your pain and God is carrying you through it until you and your heart are ready to move on from it. Please do not feel guilty for the struggle but empowered that God is using you to reach others and connect with them in a way that only you can! God bless you.
Dear Lunalou,
The brokenness that has been brought upon you by your grandfather is far more than anyone should have to bear–especially as a young girl who was betrayed by a trusted loved one. But I have great news for you: God has provided a magnificent way to escape the bitterness you bear toward this man. As a pastor and missionary, I have come to know a couple who are now dear friends, Bruce and Toni Hebel, to whom He has given a ministry they call Forgiving Forward. They have ministered throughout the U.S. as well as in Europe, Aftica, Israel, and South America through their Forgiving Forward conferences. It’s a very powerful ministry of freedom and release, and literally 1,000s of folks have experienced God’s ministry of freedom in their lives through Bruce and Toni. They’ve also written a book titled, Forgiving Forward. I have personally witnessed the power of God’s forgiving ministry in the U.S. and Romania with Bruce and Toni. I urge you to at least look into this for your own healing, and decide for yourself. I have no personal interest in the FF ministry. I simply share this with you as a brother in Christ, because I have witnessed its power both personally and in the lives of others whom I know and love. God keep you, I pray, in the gentle warmth of His loving care.
LunalouI just want to tell you, and anyone else who is struggling to forgive, that it’s ok! forgiveness does not happen over night, it’s a process. Some one once said to me that forgiveness is you choosing to accept the consequences another person inflicted upon you. Yes you wil struggle with bitterness, and that is totally valid! but you are trying to forgive and remove the bitterness, which means you have already started down that path and God will see you through to the end. I am personally amazed and blessed by the courage and openness really all of you have shared. To dance on someones grave who hurt me like that. I couldn’t even imagine the depths of that physical hurt. and yet you have experienced it and are all striving to forgive and move on and not just drag yourself away from the trauma but come away dancing. Don’t give up on yourselves. The fact that you’re all here saying something, trying to forgive, and starting to forgive, and starting to get a few loose stitches on those deep wounds is awe inspiring. Thank you all for sharing.
I think sometimes we get confused by the idea of forgiveness. I’ve been thinking about that a LOT while read these comments. I’m writing something about it.
Thank you for your bravery and willingness to speak out. I did give a report but it was deemed there was not enough information and my stepfather got off scott free. It’s heartbreaking that my mother didn’t believe me in the beginning and the police did not believe me. I know that my God believes me and so do other survivors. I hope this brings you some justice and closure. You deserve healing and joy! <3
Same song here…just a different verse. God has been a great healer in my life…I hope you find a similar peace…
I have my police report, too. My mom’s ex-husband did go to prison. Douglas Bruce Scott in Livermore, Ca. Has to register as a sex offender for the rest of his life. Only served 18 months, but molested me for almost 3 years. Not really fair, but some how it just worked that way 30 years ago.
Same here. Molested from the time I can remember until 9 when I told a teacher. Arrested the bastard, sent him home to do it again. Which he did. 18 months. Seems like a pittance. No offender registry back then. My mother told his gf what happened at one point because she had a 2 year old girl. SMH
Speechless. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I cant find social media buttons or any other way to subscribe to this blog
Mollie- I have a FB page and there should be a place to subscribe as well at the bottom of the blog post. If you can’t find it, let me know. Otherwise, I try to stick to a pretty solid Tues/Fri publishing schedule- although the events of this past week were so unexpected and overwhelming that I was thrown a bit. Hoping to get back on track this week. Thanks for asking. xo
I just want to commend the you, your sisters and the women who are coming forward to talk about this awfulness. I think it helps other women to see that it’s okay to come forward and not be ashamed. That is definitely something I think we as a society need to push as we see people blaming women for their sexual assault. I pray each and every one of you find your peace however you can. I
weeping. you have no idea. i hope one day i have the courage to do what you guys did. wow. bravest hearts. thank you SO much for sharing this.
Jess- when you do? Let me know.
Thank you for speaking up & sharing in bravery. I come from a hard place too. Praying for you today, please know you have a ton of sisters in your corner.
I was never raped, that I remember, but I think I was like some kind of magnet for pedophiles. I was molested numerous times by different men- a teenage boy my mom took in when I was 3 (I remember vividly everything that happened), my stepfather when I was 5-6, a family friend when I was 8-9, and another family friend during the same time.
My mom confronted me when my stepfather was molesting me and asked me (in front of him) if he’d been “touching me where he’s not supposed to” and I felt like I was the one on trial. I said yes. He said he thought I liked it. They sent me out to play, and she never said anything else. He stopped bothering me thankfully, but it was small consolation because she stayed with him. The next time she asked me, when the family friend was bothering me, I lied and said no. I was afraid she’d confront him in front of me. And the sad thing is that though I loathed what was being done, somehow I think I also craved that attention. Of course that made me feel dirty and bad and set a precedent for my behavior with men as I got older. It’s weird that I ran across this because at 41 all of this has recently been on my mind and I’ve begun writing it down. It helps to see that others have survived.
Thank you for sharing.
Abuse begets abuse begets abuse. I am so proud of you for surviving.
I, too, was molested by 4 different men by the time I was 12. I, too, felt like a magnet. I heard something once that helped me let go of some of the shame: “You were dumped into a nest of predators.” It was never my fault. Instead, it was the unsafe people my mother exposed me to. God has been my healer, and I’ve found peace. I’m now 46 years old, and I’m working on telling my story as a way to minister to others…
abuse begets abuse begets abuse. Predators are REALLY good at identifying their victims.
When i was young our neighbor babysat me and her husband raped me. Repeatedly. I tried to tell my mother that I no longer wanted to go over there and that I didn’t like Mr Dean but I got spanked for being disobedient. I developed a raging bladder infection that required powerful antibiotics….time after time. No one questioned why a 4 yr old would get repeated infections of that type. When I was about 10 yrs old Mr. Deans grandson came running over to our house saying that his grandfather had just died and my immediate response was to say “Good” which got me into trouble for being rude and insensitive. I’m 55 now and the lingering shadows of what he did and of the fact that no one spoke up for me or protected me from him still have profound effects on my life.
Robin- that Bastard. I am so, so sorry.
That’s so terrible. I’m so sorry that happened to you. It definately makes it hard to trust. I pray for your healing.
it is hard, but i told about grandpa when i was in 5th grade.. then mother brought me home, kept me up til 2am, and then we went back to the police the next morning.. where she had me say i lied.. when i reported my brother at age 15, i made sure to re-report my grandpa.. brother got CYA time (youth offender) and got out at age 23.. grandpa never got anything, and one reason i reported him the second time is he moved in with my uncle, who had 3 little girls
When I was 5, I ended up in urgent care with vaginal trauma multiple times. Nary a blip on anyone’s radar. Just a few years later, there would have been, I think (the difference between the late seventies and early eighties). I tried to discuss this with my mother* a few years back and she insisted this could have had absolutely nothing to do with my abuse. I didn’t even bring up that when I woke up screaming the first thing she’d do is sit me in a bath for half an hour. Or that apparently she’d decided by the time I was eighteen months old that I was competing with her.
* My mother is special. She told me flat out, five years ago, that when my father raped me, it was all about her. (Evidence does not in fact support this. But everything is all about her.)
Oh, Catherine. I feel physically ill reading this. Betrayal on infinite fronts. Have you gotten help? Please tell me you are not still carrying this around on your own. xo
I’m doing well – dealt with a lot of this in my teens, not to mention winning both my legal emancipation and continuing college support through the courts (and an additional financial settlement due to my father having stopped paying child support to my mother when I moved out on on my own when I was fifteen – it was all paid, with interest, to me.) I had, and have a good community – and I was incredibly lucky in a lot of respects in having kinds of wherewithal few folks due at that age. I’d started at the university when I was thirteen, so while this disrupted my education a bit, I had plenty of time to make it up. And… there’s no way I can describe the complexities, or all the people who have been involved, but just for a tiny slice, the parents of my godsons are the couple who let me stay with them when my mother refused to change the locks and my father was coming in and harassing me. (My parents had divorced, but my father still had keys.) The wife of the couple was a lawyer, and knew exactly the legal risks she was taking by sheltering a minor, and did it anyway. I have a lot to be thankful for.
And then later I was able to help my sister escape (literally through a window in the middle of the night). Though she had a really rough time of it for a few years there. She’s doing great now, and is hands down my closest family member.
I really don’t know how to deal with my mother. When I moved out on my own, twenty-six years ago, I stopped speaking with my father. It took me a lot longer to understand how messed up my mother was – my father was pretty blatantly monstrous, my mother more insidiously and pathetically broken. For a really long time I tried to keep her in my life… and I’ve mostly just given up. I mean, I tried again recently, both my sister and I did, when she was ill, and we both very clearly stated our boundaries, and she did not respect them.
And for the last bit, she’s been on the school board of the city I grew up in. I’m kind of appalled. (Though it does keep her out of other trouble, and considering how good she is at manufacturing trouble it’s best not to undervalue that.)
God bless you and the Courage you had! I pray healing over you and that someday you will dance! Thank you for sharing your story and writing it down!
Thank you for writing it down…it helped.
My father just died. Hours before the day of my birthday. I did not attend his funeral. He was a retired pastor, and I could not sit to hear his accolades and what a wonderful father he was to everyone, and calling everyone HIS DAUGHTER. Not me, not often. It started when I was 5 and he was an “aspiring-to-be-great” pastor. A church member molested me in the church parking lot. Of course I told my daddy! His response, “you keep this quiet, he’s one of my best members”. This was suppressed, but for some reason all during the years a certain uncle terrified me. He could not understand it, as he was always so kind. Years pass. Finally at another funeral, he sits down beside me! I wanted to run, but he would not let me! My heart is pounding and I feel ill. He says, “I think you were abused by someone who looks just like me”. It opened my repressed memory. I was made to realize – YES! It really happened. I saw who it was. The man is STILL living, a miserable person. With children of his own. My memories of my father went into the grave, but at age 62 I can say I’ve cried a lifetime of tears. BUT not this time.
Sigh… Live you, friend. I’m here if you need someone. I’m walking with you through God’s abuse. So many of us… It’s so sad.
It’s not God’s abuse. It’s Man’s abuse. And yes- so many of us.
I meant through God’s it. Not God’s abuse. Stupid smartphone! SMH
Grrrr… Hate my smartphone! Through it. Walk with you through it.
Hi there. In light of the story, I would like to offer my hand to those still hurting and unheard. I am a law enforcement chaplain. I offer 100% confidentiality to those needing a sounding board or direction. I am here, I love you, and I want to help. You don’t have to carry this burden alone. My email is flyboypike@yahoo.com
Kevin- I can’t tell you how much that means. No one should have to carry it alone.
If you are a chaplain, you need to provide a work email, not a personal one. In any situation, but especially this one, women should not be asked to send personal stories to a stranger’s personal email address.
Kevin,
I created a login just to say thank you, thank you for caring.
I love this story. My friend and I drove to the cemetery where her horrifying pastor was buried, the pastor who raped her for years, started at 4 years old, and said Jesus told him to do it — really I’m wondering how f’d up a single person can be — and we got out, she was trembling, with the jars we had brought just for the occasion, and we poured pee all over his grave. I was weirdly satisfying. Thank you for this post.
I love this idea!
I was thinking along these lines. When my dad dies I want to put a urinal on the backside of his tombstone with a pipe that goes down inside his coffin. Free for anyone to use.
what a powerful story. I was abused by two men when I was 10 and 12. my great uncle and stepfather. I told my mom, she confronted both of them. told the great uncle to never set foot in our house again. the stepfather denied it. she believed him, he stayed. I never made a big deal out of it, life went on. I didn’t want to hurt my stepsisters. on my stepfather’s death bed, minutes before he died, I told him I forgave him. it was more for me then him. he was not even conscious, but they say the last thing to go is hearing. I’m 48 now, but it never leaves you. something is taken from you that you can never get back. thank you for sharing your story.
My daughter was married to a man who abused her. After several years, and two children, she got the courage to leave him and file for divorce. Several years later when she was going back to court to change her parenting plan she had to put on paper all the detailed information about the abuse she had suffered during their marriage. She had never told anyone everything and she had tried to totally block all of it out of her mind. As she wrote, it was both extremely devastating emotionally to have to re-live the trauma, but also therapeutic to then, finally, share it with others….people who would believe her and had the power to support her emotionally and legally. What a wonderfully compassionate police officer you sisters were blessed to have hear your story and HE WROTE IT DOWN! Thank you so much for sharing…I will remember this always and keep you in my prayers.
I love this !! Bless that police officer for being simply awesome 🙂
I can remember 3rd or 4th grade telling a classmate what my step father was doing to me . She told her mother, who in turn contacted child services. 2 ladies from child services came to my school and interviewed me in what was the music room . They had these little yellow notebooks and wrote down what I said . I go home that day and those same ladies show up to my house to then interview my mom and step-dad!!!! With me there I was so horrified and when questioned again with my parents there I lied . Said I made it all up . Fast forward to 21 years of age…. Finally in the midst of an emotional breakdown told my family. It’s been 26 years since that day. My mother allowed herself to be convinced that I was a seductress , and to blame. My abuse started when I was 3-4 years of age and ceased when I was 14. This is uncomfortable for me to even type but I believe it was because I started to menestrate. After years of my own denial and concessions to those people they are longer allowe to be apart of my life . I have never gotten justice for the horrors commited against me , so when I see or read stories like this I rejoice with you and another small piece of my soulheals .
Please excuse bad grammar and misspellings . Typing on a phone stinks 🙂
A seductress. In third grade. Nope. Not for one second, Summer. Not for ONE SECOND.
Your plan is my plan but maybe you have a point. My abuser is still alive, I think and I have sat back these past few years, after I realized it might be worth filing a rpt to prevent this from happening to others, afraid of the feelings it would dredge up to go over it all again….but its not like those feelings are gone, just buried.
I should take a stand…if not for me, for others who need to see that being abused isnt a life sentence…something can be done…something positive can come out of it all…mostly a strong person determined to make the world a better place. Thank you for your bravery. Thank you for showing that even in fear/hurt, bravery doesnt take a strong person. Thank you mr police officer for listening! Thank you for sharing your story.
He may not have been punished for his crime on earth, but he is being punished now.
Oh dear, dear child. Thank you so much for baring your soul here. I am not a victim of sexual abuse, but I have friends that are. You have shined a light for me to have a greater understanding of the burden and depth of wounding that they carry. I must extend much grace, as healing and even forgiveness are not on a schedule and do not move in a straight line. Thank you for your courage and your honesty! Pray for each of you here to received your complete healing, although memories never go away, may you be free of their power to hurt you anymore. <3
it was my father’s best friend. he raped my little sister – she was in 3rd grade….. and molested my other little sister who was in 1st….. by the time it happened to me – it was already too late since the damage had been done. when i got to college i decided i wanted to confront him – but by then the statute of limitations had run out. i called the police station near where he lived and tried to at least get it in a record in case anyone else ever came forward. it was all i could do.
Mine was almost 20 years ago and it was my own father… Most people still don’t know. My mother took my sister and I and left him 2 days after I told her which was my saving grace it showed me I mattered. She believed me and took action. He died a year later which made life easier but left with no closure. I have a hard time trusting any male relatives around my kids and it’s only by Gods mercy I can trust my husband (who has shown himself to be nothing but loving and worthy of that trust). I will never know who I could have been without the sexual abuse and betrayal of trust right as I became a teen. I feel like high school was a haze of survival… I have to stop or I will begin to weep. Thank you for your story I hope it spreads wide and more officers see how powerful they can be just by listening and believing.
My story is like many. My father. Starting age 4 or 5 with touching then escalating. Ending age 9 when I told my mom. There were separated and he tried to rape her in the living room. i heard it though my bedroom wall and went in to stop him. I threatened to kill him. Later I told her. Divorce. No visitation. Counseling. But it wasn’t until college that i realized what i could do. I shared and helped others with abusive backgrounds or attacks. I have some of my deepest friendships from that. When I was 24 I confronted him over the phone. He didn’t deny it, but said he didn’t remember and referred to drug use at that time. I know I don’t remember everything. I use to have re-occurring nightmares that may have been memories. But now 42, I have developed an amiable relationship with him. We chat on the phone about his grandsons and gardening. I still wonder about my cousins. If we share these bad memories. For the most part I am accepting of my life. Still a news story can bring up things and I am used to the occasional nightmares. I will never like to be tickled and restrained. But I can help others. That is what my advice is to anyone. Make a good from their evil. It is the closest many of us will get to a slap in the face (or kick in the groin). Hugs to all.
This is so incredibly powerful!! I adore these two brave women and their courage. I’ve walked a similar path and know the incredible courage it takes to do what they did. Reading this brought instant tears to my eyes, I sobbed like a baby. It took me nearly 30 years to do this very same thing. The difference was that my abuser was my best friends grandfather. I decided I would finally report the abuse when I found out from my friend that he was on his death bed. I didn’t want him to die thinking he got away with it. I knew nothing would happen to him, but it was for me and my recovery, not for him or any punishment. It took every bit of courage I had to walk in to that police station and report it. I shook like a leaf and was nauseous. The police officer almost refused me because of the SOL laws in NH, but thank fully had to do it because it happened in California where I grew up not NH where I live now. He wrote it out reluctantly and it was faxed to Los Angeles County SVU. Thankfully the officer in LA was very kind to me. He said ” I’m sorry there is nothing we can do, he is dying, but I want you to know that I’m sorry this happened and I want you to know, I believe you.” I sobbed on the phone and thanked him. His words meant more to me than words can ever say. I can’t explain exactly what happens to you when these things happen, sexual abuse but it changes you forever. Something dies inside of you that can never be fully returned. This is part of what I want people to understand when it comes to these things and reporting especially in cases like Bill Cosby where it takes the victim 30 years to report it. It takes as long as it takes for us to find the courage and face the incredible pain we feel and usually incredible shame as well. It’s not something we are raised to talk about, nor do we really want to talk about. It’s our dark secret that we hold dear to our heart and carry with us wherever we go. This is why even if nothing can be done and even if the person is already dead the victim should be able to have and officer take down the report, then tell them I’m sorry this happened to you and most importantly say to them “I believe you.” No victim should ever have that huge step in recovery taken from them.
He. Wrote. It. Down.
He listened.
He heard.
He cared.
He validated.
He believed.
Four powerful words that are such important steps toward healing.
Thank you Officer Paul, for writing it down.
Thank you Laura, for writing it down…
For listening.
For hearing.
For caring.
For validating.
For believing.
Thank you for sharing this. When you are a victim of sexual abuse/molestation and it is by a family member and “good man” it is hard for others to understand and to accept that he could be capable of such things. Growing up I was molested by our next door neighbor who was a creepy old guy and then by my own father. I would get cornered in our laundry room repeatedly from ages 12-14. I wrote down what happened and shared it with a teacher I trusted even though my classmates gave me a bad time about showing my diary to my teacher. She told the principle who contacted my parents. It was not discussed much after that and I always felt it was “swept under the rug”. No one ever mentioned it again – that is until I found out he was molesting two of my daughters and my mother knew about it. I never forgave him. Fortunately we had moved to another state, but I was not able to protect my own children from this monster. He died two years ago, and I did go to the funeral. It sickened me to listen to those around me saying how good of a man they thought he was. I refused to say anything or even or even participate in the mass. I can’t forgive him for what he did or my mother for not doing anything. Again she refuses to acknowledge that he did any wrong, and I feel sad for her. It bothers me that my sister and brother make such a big deal on his birthday and the anniversary of his death, but then again- it didn’t happen to them or their daughters. I have survived from being a victim and I will never allow myself to be a cvictim again.
I am so, so sorry that this happened to you. The principal should have reported it to the police and supported you. You were very brave to share it at that age.
This is me. I still live in the conspiracy of silence. No one talks about it. I have written a book and when my mother dies – it will be published – I hope but hey it’s written down. My scars ooze every single second of every day. I am 59 and it’s as if it happened just now. I haven’t danced on his grave —– but I HAVE spit on it. TRUTH.
Holly, this sounds so painful. Is there anything else you can do that doesn’t require waiting? Have you talked to a therapist or pastor you can trust?
this gal hasn’t written in a long time, but she has some really good stuff…thank you so much for your bravery and your words! Maybe you can find solace in this other site as well! http://Www.whispersofcourage.blogspot.com
And there is healing in telling the story…no matter how many years have past. I like that the police officer wrote it down and made a record of the abuse. Paper can hold horrible truths that a heart is not able to contain.
There is a tremendous amount of healing in telling your story and being heard.
Thank you for your bravery and thank you to Officer Smith for being brave enough and man enough to hear it and WRITE IT DOWN.
Beautiful. I agree, it’s a silent epidemic that we are convinced not to speak, think or talk about. That works but for me, Pandora’s box opened when my trusted father in law made an unexpected sexual move on me and worse; NO ONE believed me. I became suicidal and began to write a suicide letter that became a book that is now in Barnes&Noble and what’s changed for me as a person, my anger and depression is gone. WRITE IT DOWN! Jori Nunes
I too was a victim of extremely unwanted attention from my (step) grandfather. I was 12 years old and home sick one day from school. He came by to check on me, which was not unusual, and then it happened. I told my mother immediately after and she told my father.
My parents went to my grandparents home where they confronted him (he was the only one home at the time). My mother later told me how scared she was that my dad might actually kill him.
The next day my grandmother was told about the situation. She didn’t believe me, she even asked me to take a polygraph. When I said that I would, all communication between my immediate family and her ceased.
I had to be forced to go to school, but even then I would just come back home after everyone had left. For several months when I was home alone I’d get my father’s 22. pistol and hide in my closet. I wanted to kill him, but most of all I wanted to kill myself. I was only 12 and carrying around this heavy burden of feeling responsible for my mother no longer having her mother and my siblings not having their grandparents. He was the only grandfather we had ever known. He would take us out all the time for ice cream or sleepovers. He would take me out on the back country roads and teach me to drive. I loved him and so did my sister and brother.
Eventually the fear subsided but the guilt took several years to overcome and the anger still haunts me to this day. The funny thing is I actually hate my grandmother more than him. I still cannot understand why anyone would walk away from their blood for a man and she did it twice.
It was mostly male grandkids on that side of the family there were only 4 girls out of 12, one of which wasn’t born till after these incidents had taken place. My 1 female cousin (at the time) was about the same age as I was when he did it to her. Again my grandmother shunned more of her blood just to keep a man.
When I was18 she showed up on our doorstep with a gallon of ice cream, like that was supposed to make everything better. While my brother (who was 10 at the time) and my mother welcomed her back, my sister and I had long since written her off, and my father (who felt like I did but realized my mother’s need to reconnect with her own mother) set some pretty strict rules with her as to what he would allow regarding interaction with his kids.
She started showing up with my grandfather at the restaurant where I worked. All that was to me was a slap in the face and a constant reminder of the trauma I had endured.
Eventually he left and divorced her, moving back to the southeast where he was from. Every now and then he would show back up and shack up with her for a while, I however haven’t seen or heard of him being around for 4 or 5 years.
It’s now been close to 25 years since this took place and I still avoid family gatherings where my grandmother will be present. The funny thing is that the 2 daughters whose families my grandmother chose to turn her back on are the ones who take care of her now that she is in her mid 80s.
This is the 1st time I’ve told my story to anyone other than my family, your deeply personal story has prompted me to tell mine. Thank you!
I’ll respond again later. I am thinking about this.
It’s really easy to carry around that sense of responsibility for the actions of our family… but I think it’s just too much to carry. (Not that any child is going to know that.)
When my sister finally stopped speaking to my mother, my mother starting come to the store where she worked with presents and guilt. It was a pretty blatant power play, because my sister couldn’t leave, and in most situations she couldn’t even be impolite. I tried to get her to get a restraining order, and I think had it gone on longer she would have.
There are so many ideas of family in our society, and so often is seems like we should be the ones to suffer in order to make things look nice. And I just don’t think it’s supportable. What do we owe to a lie? Do we want to be like the beaten wife who dresses and puts on makeup to cover the bruises? Who are we protecting, and why doesn’t protecting ourselves count for as much?
What a profound post!
I was molested by my step-brother from age 4-6. It stopped when another step-sibling caught him touching me and told us she would tell our parents. I was terrified of getting in trouble. In high school and college, I drank too much, dabbled in drugs and engaged in promiscuous behavior trying to feel good about myself and fill that dark place inside. I finally started seeing counsellors at age 19 until talking about it in therapy didn’t help any more. I told my parents then too and they were devastated. I really and truly wanted to kill him for many years. My heart was so full of rage and hate for ruining me, for stealing my innocence. I swore I would never allow anything like that to happen to my own children. I was only able to forgive him when I found out he had been molested by the teenage son of a family friend when he was around 8 years old. Such an ugly, cruel cycle and it is important to remember that it happens to boys too.
my sister sent this to me late at night I ready it early the next morning and sobbed I no longer give a shit and am tired of holding on to old feelings my sister stopped speaking to my other ages ago and I am following in her foot steps but slowly my daughter is the only thing that holds me and mother together and it is a thin string thank you for your healing story I have had to make up lies just to survive but I am done with all of it thank you and God bless both of you lots of prayers and love l and t
Thank you for sharing this. It’s beautiful and powerful and healing — not just for you, but for those who read your story.
I was six or seven when I was abused. I was 19 before I told anyone… it was the night of my abuser’s funeral. He’d committed suicide and I felt not hurt and anger, but sorrow, grief, and guilt. Fortunately those who heard my story believed, never doubted, and assured me of the truth I was grappling with — that his death was not my fault. I forgave him a long time ago, but it wasn’t until two years ago — some 40 years past the abuse — that I for the first time realized the damage that had been done to me. I always thought mine wasn’t “that bad” — that there were much worse cases out there. I shoved it aside and didn’t think about it. I wasn’t abused through force, but through ignorance and somehow I thought that made it not as horrific.. I really believed I was okay — unharmed by the abuse. But two years ago my marriage counselor identified it as a reason I withhold myself emotionally and my journey to healing began. The abuse has harmed me — affected the way I relate with people and how I view myself.
For those, like me, who think (or are inexcusably told) that their abuse wasn’t that bad; that there are worse cases out there… I heard Dan Allender say in a workshop last fall something that really struck home for me. In essence, we are not to compare our stories to others’…. but to Eden. His book, “The Wounded Heart,” as well as the accompanying workbook have been great resources for me. And the workshop, “The Story Workshop” (http://theallendercenter.org/workshops/story-workshop/) focuses on writing it down… telling our stories and learning, healing and growing through the telling.
Anyway… thanks for sharing your experience. I’m so glad your officer wrote it down… you’ve encouraged me and many others.
Jennifer- I keep having women say this to me. How bad does it have to be, to matter? I am so sorry that happened to you.
Thank you for the essay. The writing is as deep as the story, cutting away the darkness to the heart of the matter. Grandfathers (or uncles, or fathers) don’t just go after girls. It took 30 years to realize it wasn’t my fault and let go of the shame. 30 years that could have been better spent.
No, Lyle. They don’t. I am so, so sorry.
Wow – I know this story too well. Good for you. I only hope now you can have some peace.
Fantastic!! Proud of y’all!
This was touching and absolutely beautiful. Thank you for sharing your story.
Thank you for sharing. I’m so impressed with your bravery. I was abused by my grandfather too. When my family found out I was sent to foster care. After a lifetime, I “wrote it down,” in the form of a book. It was terrifying to publish it. I cried, threw up, and wanted to hide. I want to encourage other survivors that their pain did not disappear like a ghost in the night, even if no one acknowledges it or there’s no justice. For every survivor out there- I stand with you. I hope to be available for anyone else who wants to “write it down.”
Fear cuts deeper than swords….
I was 4 when my uncle began molesting me. I still remember exactly what I was wearing, a pale pink dress with glorious ruffles with the cutest tights. What day it was, Sunday and we had just left church to go to my Grandmother’s for Sunday lunch. You see, at my grandparents house you were seen but not heard. The children always were told to go play in the basement so the adults could talk. In their basement they had a pool table, a small tv, a bathroom and a separate area that was their garage. That’s where it happened the first time on the cold concrete floor where my grandparents usually parked their car. It happened every time we went over there after that until we moved when I was 10. To this day, I hate that dress, those tights, my uncle and that house.
I am now 44 years old. 5 years ago I finally felt courageous enough to tell my parents in part because my mom always wanted me to come over when my uncle would be on a run and driving thru their area. She would say “He asked about you and wants to see you. I don’t understand why you cannot come when he is here”. The response I received from my mom about her brother when I finally decided to say why I always turned down being there was devastating… “I always watched over your older sister and kept a close eye on her but I never once thought about you.”
I’ve bottled it up again. I’ve yet to be able to let go of the pain and reliving it makes it hard to forgive.
I do applaud your bravery and hope some day to be able to take that same step. Thank God for your officer. All I want is for someone to write it down. 🙁
I remember what I wore, too. I remember the smell of chlorine. I remember the smell of cat food. I remember his forearm on my throat. I remember it ALL. I am so sorry that no one watched over you.
(((((((((((big hug)))))))))))))))))))) I am so sorry this happened to you. I don’t have all the answers, but if it would be helpful to have a listening ear, I can do that.
Praise the Lord! Thank you for sharing!
Thank you for writing this. I really appreciate it.
Thanks for sharing. For me it was my great grandfather and thankfully it was only molestation not rape. I kept quiet for years and years knowing the hailstorm of destruction that would take place and so fearful that I would not be believed. The really sad fact of the matter was that all of my great aunts knew about his behavior and protected their daughters from him. But for some reason I, (who was the daughter of a daughter-in-law that no one liked), who had to spend every Sunday after church with this man, they never told my mom to protect me from him. I think that that was the most hurtful part of the whole experience.
My mom was so sad to find out and that I never told her. The Lord gave me an amazing husband who has cherished me and protected my heart and I can move on.
I hope and pray that you will be able to grow and move on from your experience. It will always leave a stain and stories like this one will remind you, but I pray that there is someone to hold you tight and love you to pieces.
Honey- “Only molestation?” We are Not in the Hardship Olympics. You are heard and loved. I will write it down.
What to do next? I suggest you keep writing it down, you will never know how many people will see this and come forward. The shame is on the abuser, not victim.. please continue to write it down for other victims to witness. Thank you for sharing your story.
Very moving – you 3 are so courageous!
Why do our mothers stay with our molesting stepfathers? I’ve read this over and over in the comments. It is so sick!! I intend to throw a grand party when my ex-stepfather (yes she did finally divorce him a decade plus later but not because of me) – it will be such a relief when he is finally gone. He is still very entwined in my family and I have never understood how those who know can even look at him. It has always made me feel so unloved – there’s my life long struggle. ;(
P.S. I”ve been married to a wonderful police officer for 16 years – most of them out there are the best of the best! They really want these guys to pay.
I think, mostly, we all do the best we can. And we all fall down.
I have been told that healing begins when somebody listens…I hope that really is so.
I too was a victim of my grandfather’s abuse. Like you he has been dead for many years. It never occurred to me to file a report like you did. But a little over a year ago I was called for jury duty on a child molestation case. I wasn’t seated on the jury but I did have to answer questions about being molested as a child. At first it was very hard… but then I realized that what he did to me was now part of the permanent court record. Like you, that was a healing and freeing experience. It had been 54 years. I realized then that there are other children who need a voice… now I’m a CASA volunteer so at least one more child doesn’t have to wait 54 years for justice. Thank you for sharing your story. Thank you for using your voice to make a difference.
Good for you woman!! Sounds like you needed this as part of the healing process!!! My sister and myself too were sexually molested several times over a couple years by my dad’s father. Over 30 years ago. Unlike you we did eventually tell. Bitter sweet at the time, he got 3 months in jail, is all. And after that my sister and I turned in to the outcasts….oh, ‘he’s’ gonna be there you girls can’t go, you wait to come until ‘he’ leaves ect…..Not until I was older (late teens), is when I refused to allow myself to be excluded and go to family functions….well by that time there was a huge rift between me and my dad’s side of the family so the few encounters were strained, uncomfortable and awkward. As I got older though it got easier to be present and ignore him and enjoy myself. And at my half sister’s wedding a couple years ago I felt totally redeemed when it seemed like he had to take a backseat to the festivities and my sis and I were in the for front for once!!! And most recently he was picked to go on an honor flight for his service in WWll and everyone was asked to write him letters that they would receive as a surprise on the return flight home!! Well I can only imagine his surprise when he got my letter telling him what a monster he was and will always be and being a child molester has made him honorless!!! Obviously I heard nothing about it after the flight but it really was my closing moment for that situation and my opportunity to finally say my peace and be done with it!!! And guess wha!? I’m done with it!!! Thank you for your story and I pray your day for closure comes to you, because it will!!! And like the mighty oak, may we stand strong and firm and not be knocked down!!!! God bless!!!
41 years ago……
Thank you. Wow. Thank you. I sent you a message on facebook after seeing your comment on Jen Hatmaker’s page. Just wanted to say thank you.
When my uncle (the perpetrator) died, we laughed. We laughed at my cousin’s response to the news, “He has gone to be with Jesus.” My cousin, his youngest son, one of his many victims, responded, “Poor Jesus.” It felt good to be “bad” enough to laugh at that.
you weren’t being bad. you were being honest.
Mine’s still a high school coach in Magnolia, TX.
do you feel there is anyone who can go with you to report him?
Call his principal. Have that person write it down.
Please turn them in!!! Others are in danger!!
Please tell someone.
I have 4 daughters in Magnolia, TX. Two of them still attend school here. I am so sorry for what you have been through, and hope someday he is stopped…that someone writes it down for you.
<3
My father started having sexual relations with me when I was 11. My mom was too busy having her own affairs to protect me. My father would have me – a 5th grader turn on phone taps when my mom got a call to catch her in her affairs or check the mileage on her car. This was while he was having sex with me. How could he not see that was wrong and even worse than my mom screwing around? I started having flashbacks when I was around 40 or so. I am now 57. I confronted my dad years ago. Yet he says he can’t remember all those years of abusing me. “Maybe once I laid on her”. He’s 83 now. I don’t care about the old man going to jail I just want him to acknowledge what he did to me.
Deb. All of that is wrong, in every way possible. But you SURVIVED. And he doesn’t get pass because he’s old. If he didn’t want to be punished, he shouldn’t have committed a crime.
Try to encourage him to confess and repent — for your sake as well as his soul’s.
Im struggling here. It’s been a year and a half since my daughters told me they were being molested by their grandfather. Our church, where he was an elder, took him to the police station. Within days of my daughters telling me, we moved from that town. It was too small. We lived in constant fear that he would show up and we would kill him in our anger. I still have murder in my heart and if I ever see him again Im afraid of what I would do. My mother in law chose him over her own son and his family. We have cut off all contact with them and any others in the family that questioned why we would press charges. But the thing is that NOTHING is happening with the case. I can’t help but feeling like the justice system doesn’t give a crap about my girls. So he sits watching TV while my mother in law brings him all his meals on tray and makes sure he takes a nap.
I have a dear friend who is a sexual abuse victim and she now ministers to others. She is an author and her books are amazing and freeing. I highly recommend her book Buried Lies. Her name is Marty Delmon. She has been ministering to victims for YEARS and she has told me that she has NEVER known of an abuser that has repented or apologized for their crimes. NEVER. That says a lot and it says a lot to the church. Stop trying to disciple sex offenders. They belong in JAIL!!!
I really do feel very sad for you & your daughters. But I do have to respectfully disagree with you about abusers never making amends. As the Mother of a person who is serving a prison term for a sex offense (& will be released shortly), I can tell you that there are many people who serve their time, do make amends, and want to be productive citizens. I do hope & pray that your feelings toward remorseful, former offenders will be softened at some point in time.
Sometimes I think one piece of the harm that is done is that we make rape and sexual abuse a crime apart from all other crimes. On the one hand, there is such a tendency not to believe and to blame the victims, and often to look at the victims as forever horribly damaged by these events. (And while if that is how people see themselves, I don’t want to contradict it. But that has not been my experience, it bothers me that it is so close to narratives around women being ruined by having sex. I carry scars. I’m a different person. But that is true for many events in my life, not just these ones. But how much of this is inevitable, and how much is enculturation?) And on the other, there is such hatred of the perpetrators, and often so much belief that they are forever unsafe and can not reform. While a lot has been made in political circles of research alleging to support this, the research is in fact pretty weak. An awful lot of people do not re-offend. It’s easy to see why people are very worried about crimes committed against children, but I don’t want to be manipulated for someone else’s political ends.
I don’t know if these conversations are happening yet. And I don’t pretend I really know how to have them – it’s isn’t hard to reach out to a family member. I don’t know if I’d be ready to talk to your child – maybe I would. (And obviously, it’s all pretty theoretical for me. My abuser is an 81 year old retired professor with early stage Parkinson’s. We’ve had one conversation, by email, since I was 15, about a talk I gave at Johns Hopkins.)
Please tell me that your daughters are in counseling!! So sorry for all of you 🙁
You may also want to check out netgrace.org. I have been well educated by and found compassion in them. If the local courts are not moving his case along I would be making a lot of fuss to get it going. You are not pressing charges anyway, if your state is like ours. The state should be taking over and doing that. Go to your attny general and find out what’s up.
Oh sometimes silence is more haunting and scary than the abuser going to jail! He as well as your mother in law are suffering a hurt more than you will ever know but don’t give up the fight!! Cry out, make him suffer as your daughters did!!
Um. Wow. I have a gazillion words bouncing hard against my skull. So many and so hard that I am struggling to find the ones that would make sense to others. I’ll stick with. Yes. This. Exactly this. My cousin has a different name. Same story. Same exact story. Oh my. What courage. What healing. Wow. Wondering if I, or my cousin, could ever get to that point. Where someone acknowledged the reality. Where we met victims. I know there are more. Shattered hearts strung all over Texas and Oklahoma and God only knows where else. Oh my. Thank you for this. And please, tell this police officer that I said thank you. Because from one survivor to another, he has made it real and that’s enough.
I will tell him, Kelli. I will. And when your cousin is ready to tell her story, I will listen.
Sending you hugs, Brave Girls!
I’m a man and you women are my heroes. I am in awe.
He was my step grandfather. They wrote it down when I was 10 years old. But instead of doing something they told my mother this man was an upstanding citizen. He had never had trouble with the law and had retired from a good job. I suffered for years alone thinking I did something to deserve this. Then 17 years later my cousin came to me and told me she knew and it had happened to her. She wasn’t ready to go to the police because she was convinced no one would believe her either. Three years later someone came up to her and told her of what he had done to her and she was concerned her little sister was going to be staying with him for the summer. She finally went to the police. Detective Andrew Schwab wrote it down. And called me after 21 years of waiting I finally got to see my day in court. As I sat there with my offender seated next to my father and stepmother I knew that would be the last day I saw my dad or step mother. They haven’t spoken to me in three years. As much as the trial cost me, emotionally and mentally I would do it again in a heartbeat. Hes now a registered sex offender. And I have a very special detective and district attorney to thank for finally making me feel free. I will wait for the day till I too can dance on his grave. Thank you for telling your story. Thank you to your officer for writing it down.
Heather- Thank GOD for the adults who believe- even if they’re not the ones who SHOULD have.
Heather,
Your story could be mine. Mine was my uncle and I was 8. I didn’t tell my mom until I was 22 because I had a 5 and 1 year old sister and I was afraid my mom would leave them with him to babysit. Because that’s when it happened to me.
My mom believed me. She told my grandmother and aunt, they didn’t.
5 years later I have an FBI agent in my living room questioning me because my uncle and his son had been raping my 10 year old cousin, my aunt’s daughter, for 5 years.
He wrote it down.
They were arrested and have been in prison for more than 10 years now.
for all these innocent ones who were violated
for my own siblings who were violated… by my brother, a babysitter, and unnamed ones
for being paranoid about *anyone* near my own children. I saw the ravages of sexual abuse that my siblings live with…
for the teen I once was when predators saw me vulnerable and an easy target to lure. I wanted attention and affection. They did not give that.
I, too, blamed myself… until having teen daughters made me realize how naïve they really are.
for never telling another living soul until now
Your courage is so evident in everything you’ve written. Thank you for talking. Thank you for telling. Thank God you’re realizing you were never to blame. Bless you as you watch over your children…I do the same thing. XOXO
Your story resonates so deeply with me…perhaps if I had someone who shared my pain like you had in your amazing cousin, I would have the courage to do what you did…but it’s harder when you feel alone…4 different men molested me between the ages of 3 and 12; one of them was my stepfather, and the abuse lasted for a span of years. None of my abusers have ever paid for their crimes against me. Only through the grave of God have I found peace and healing. It took a lot of hard work to forgive my mother for exposing me to dangerous men…God’s goodness to me has helped me…I pray others can find similar healing and peace. God offers it generously…Thank you for sharing your pain and your healing process. Blessings to you for being so vulnerable with your story. You’ve inspired me to take the first steps to start a blog to share mine.
*grace
Reblogged this on Embracing life: 4/29/10 and commented:
VERY important read for anyone abused as a child!
I cannot tell you how moving this was. I have mostly forgiven my brother but still long for the confirmation of the abuse from him. I’m not sure I would have the courage to make a report of my own. Would I be taken seriously as well? That is my fear. Bravo to y’all!
My uncle molested and raped my cousin from the time she was three until she left home at eighteen. Her mother knew what was going on and did nothing to stop it. She has written a book about her recovery from this and how it has impacted multiple generations. It is called Ripples by Sabrina Rainey. It was in the course of her revealing this to our family (her father has since died) that I realized I too had been a victim of his madness and my aunt knew about and did nothing to stop it either. When he died I laughed and felt this enormous sense of relief. Thinking about it still makes my skin crawl. I said nothing because I didn’t think anyone would believe me.
Peace and love, Kate. And thanks for sharing.
What a fantastic story of bravery and human compassion! Can i go dance with you guys when you do?
Reblogged this on Together We Heal.
Wow! It use to be hard to imagine that others were living the horrible life I was living. Reading all the comments to this post is sobering. My abuse, much the same as a lot of you, was dealt by the hand of a person that was responsible for protecting my innocents. My abuse came at the hand of my father, and it continued for many years. Because I was so young when it started, and he such a violent man, I did not tell until I was in high school. Back in those days it was still not common to report and thus would have been difficult. Lucky for him, that he was out of town when I told my mother finally, because my mother took a gun and went in search of him. As I began college, I started working as a Victim Advocate. It was a blessing to finally see a way that God could use even that horrible event for good. God took what I had seen as shame, and gave me a voice to help others during their trials. Remarkably, I found healing by offering an ear to others. Nowadays my only struggle is making sure he doesn’t know or get close to my children. I am 46 years of age, and my children teenagers , but I still post under an assumed name. For me, protecting their innocence is a high calling….something I have always given respect too.
Thank you so much for sharing your story. I was molested beginning when I was about 8 and then raped when I was 12 and for years I hid it. It was a “dirty little secret” that I had only shared with a few people whom I was really close to. I was ashamed and embarrassed but after many years I told my story publically. It was like a weight had been lifted! I was no longer ashamed. The more of us that tell our stories the more people who won’t feel ashamed of things that weren’t their fault and shouldn’t be ashamed of. Thank you once again for telling your story.
I agree. We need to shine a light. Want to shine a light with me?
I want to shine a light, I want an end to all of it!
There are way too many of us out there. 🙁
Thank you for writing this. I like it
I was molested by my adult babysitter’s elderly father from age 6 til age 12, when we moved. My mom asked me once if he had touched me “down there” and I said no. I was embarrassed and terrified. I have never told anyone, ever, until recently when I told my mother who has pretty severe dementia. When I told her she was surprised and said, “I did everything I could to protect you.” Within minutes she had forgotten it, lost in the maze that is her mind now, gone forever, like I had never said it at all. That was the only way it felt safe to tell, knowing she would forget. And what I got out of it was, Did you really do everything you could? You knew, or you wouldn’t have asked. So I have two people to forgive. She is the only one eligible so far. 65 years of keeping this secret has colored my life in ways I can’t even count.
One word of advice: It doesn’t matter how well the sitter interviews if your child is in her house. It matters who else is there with her.
You and Mary were so brave! I think we all wish we had had an Officer Paul. 🙂 You are an inspiration for survivors.
I read as many of these as I could manage to get through. I was molested at thirteen. I am 55 now and still have problems dealing with it at times. My love to all.
I’m broken down in tears right now. This story is so amazing there aren’t words to describe it. Too many times this isn’t what happens. To me this reopens some major things that I’ve been thinking about a lot recently anyways. There’s just so much power in someone legitimately listening to your story and paying attention.
You are precious.
You are courageous.
You are valued.
You are HEARD!
so much love and respect for you three.
keep on, dear hearts. keep on!!
Your courage is remarkable. ALL you ladies who’ve replied and shared your stories…remarkable. So glad you are talking and telling. Each one of us tell our stories in different ways. My older sister and I had a flower arrangement delivered to my relative’s funeral when he died. Pillar of the community. Biggie in the church. Child Molester. We were sodomized. We were not believed. I was 4. She was 5. The flower arrangement consisted of large black balloons. Inside each balloon we had written messages, all the things we wanted and needed to say to him. The inflated balloons were secured with a large hanging banner that read, “FROM ALL THE CHILDREN”. It sat on the church’s center stage amongst all the arrangements that honored him. We honored him with TRUTH. I danced in my livingroom and down the hall when I heard he’s suddenly died. I no longer hated him. I danced because no more children would be hurt by him. NOT EVER AGAIN.
I love every single thing about this.
Thelma and Louise on steroids….Lesia…this is the most poetic & beautiful….i’m eating a bacon gouda sandwich, sitting in Starbucks and just clutched my face when I read, “Inside each balloon we had written messages all the things we wanted and needed to say to him.” God bless you…your bravery…for showing others HOW to heal. God. I have no other words. I am proud of you.
Thanks for your supportive comments. Means more than I could say. Feel like a brick sits in my stomach for talking publicly, but I know it’s part of my healing. Thank you. Much.
Just covered my face too. You are strong and amazing, kathy. Thank u. God bless.
I was raped and beaten by my dad
For 14 years had things shubbed down my throat pointed went from that to my Dorothea dicks
Cuz the state wudnt allow her to put me in foster care so she figured she cud rid of me that way wen had my mms boyfriend to two of my boyfriends hitting me but the thing is I chose forgiveness yes I contacted the police n no they didn’t arrest him. Actually my dad has another daughter and I contacted the police about that did they any thing no but I feel that u make the choice of how things turn out if u let it control sure misery comes but I see those people not my ex though and I watch over my sis n I do not hate any of them I love them theyre my family god doesn’t judge one sin harsher than the other sins are sins to him n god says that we cant be forgiven until we forgive that especially goes for those who have hurt us in unimaginable ways. I chose god over my past struggles to come out stronger n everything that happen to me good and bad has made me who I am today I do believe others get over things in different ways n I congrat you on doing so ur way but saying I didn’t have the heart to sendmy father to jail I most likely wont b dancing on his grave although I pray that he has learned from his ways and will repent but for the rest of my life I and god will be watching over my lil sister n if anything was to happen (hopefully not ) we will there standing strong for her
Guns* to my grandmas* be there*
Oh, honey. I have forgiven my grandfather. I have put down that heavy thing. But I will still dance on his grave. Those two things are not mutually exclusive.
Tell me which comment it is, and if you need me to take it down, I will
I found it- I’m taking it down. But I read your story.
I never knew to this day what happened to my attacker. He is still there in the faces of every man of that ethnic origin… I was 12 and my family thought if they didn’t talk about it, I would heal faster. I’m 54 now, I guess that’s not true huh?
It never goes away completely… I have tears in my eyes for those sisters and the closure that they got… God Bless them..
My comment will be approximately #287… you surely triggered many emotions… in me as well.
THANK YOU!
We have a family secret. Everyone knows about it, which does not make it a secret, but everyone ignores is – so it’s a s.e.c.r.e.t.
My stepfather abused my sister and myself sexually. He mostly did it to me during the night, while I was asleep. He would come into the room I shared with my sister and pretend that he wanted to cover us when we pushed the blankets off in summer. But the sexual abuse towards my (younger) sister wasn’t subtle. He would force her to watch porn with him, give her pocket money and reminded her that she owes him… She became his object… he wasn’t that into me… he wanted younger girls.
My sister told my mom. My mom blamed her, because at eight children can apparently dress provocatively. We have been telling my mother for over 20 years… but she’s still married to him. Her choice is clear.
She once said that he admitted to touching my sister breasts ‘once’… I had to remind her that 6 year olds don’t have breasts… I wish someone would hear us.
Last night, after reading ‘he wrote it down’, I had a dream about him and my mother. Usually I run away or hide in my dream. It is hard to face him, let alone to confront him/them. Last night I confronted him in my dream. It was a huge victory for my subconscious.
THANK YOU for sharing.
We dance together.
Love
Anonymous
YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I am grateful to not share your story, but my 73 year old mother does. Her stepfather molested, raped, and beat her for years until my grandmother put her in foster care, so she could stay married to him. Even as an adult my dad would never let my step grandfather anywhere near my mom or any of us girls. I know he hurt some of my cousins whose parents didn’t believe my mom. He died just a few years ago in his 90’s and I always believed that was the moment my mom would find peace. Perhaps it was actually the moment when people acknowledged it as truth as this police officer did for you. God bless both of you and all of the victims of abuse. And God bless my dad for stopping that ugly cycle in our family.
Thank you so much for sharing this
<3 <3 <3
My perfect family fell apart this year. I have been married to a man for 20 years with an amazing amount of good stuff but always this underlying “something is off” feeling. I have always believed he loves me but have had to be okay with it being at arms length so to speak.without really understanding why at the time, I acted out against that this past year and it pulled the string that unraveled the whole thing. The “something off” has been that he has been living with the buried memories of being raped and psychologically tortured by his grandmother for several years as a small boy. He has lived in a constant state of always being a little terrified, without really understanding why. That is very hard on a relationship. I have spent a lot of time thinking there was something wrong with me. She is dead and gone, no justice can be served. His relationship with his parents is such that he can’t even tell them about it, so this woman really gets off totally free. Even the very people who were meant to protect this boy remember her as a fine woman. his secret has become our secret.
Amazing people are helping him heal. He is doing the hard work. Im going to show him this. I would happily go with him if he wanted to have it “written down”.
This made me cry. It is amazing how therapeutic it can be to get something like this off your chest and especially to have someone believe you.
My mother drilled it into my head from a very young age to tell her if anyone touched me. The night my grandfather tried to rape me, I was at his house against my will. He had touched me once before and even though I knew I didn’t want to be around him, I never told my mom and brushed it off as an accident. The night he tried to rape me, I managed to get away. When my mom showed up she was mad initially because she had to look for me in the middle of the night, but as soon as I told her what happened she cried with me and took me straight to the police station. I believe that’s when my recovery started, my mom never questioned anything I said and neither did the officers or attorneys. The only person that questioned me was my uncle and I still believe it was because he
was as bad as my grandfather.
Throughout the trial we discovered that he molested his step daughter for 13yrs and raped his sister repeatedly, stalked her when they were older and threatened her on a regular basis for almost 40yrs. She lived her life looking over her shoulder because her mother told her to keep her mouth shut.
We went through months of trials and in the end he accepted an Alfords Plea. He spent that entire time in jail and a month before he was to be sentenced, he died of a heart attack. Part of me wishes he had spent more time in jail for all of the heinous crimes he committed, but I’m satisfied that he was never free after the night he tried to make me a victim.
I wish more people had the wonderful team I did. They gave me the strength to get through one of the worst times in my life.
Thank you for sharing this. It’s just as important to hear about the people who DID believe, and who DID act. You are lucky to have your mom.
Your mom was a hero. IS a hero.
So sad that so many of us can be unified in the pain from nearly identical histories. So thankful for the strength of those who speak up as representatives & the voices for all of us.
Abundant blessings as you walk the road of healing & redemption.
I was molested as a very young teenager, and I told nobody. Not one other person ever knew, until a few months ago when I was finally blessed with a moment of strength and told my husband. We have been married for 20 years and it took that long to tell him, to just.tell.someone. He never questioned my story and in that single moment I realized how much he loves me and how far he would go to protect me, and our daughters. I don’t even remember the name of my abuser and I wouldn’t know how to find him. I don’t need to, because now it happened, it is real and someone believes me. Redemption.
Wow. So powerful and poignant. Heartwarming and heartbreaking. The many comments magnify the importance of telling this story and are a mirror reflecting multitudes of stories left untold. God bless you.
My mom was an incest victim too somehow she felt and to appoint always will that what happened to her was somehow her fault. Her mom was also aware of what was going on. And never stopped it. My mom married a man at 14 years old.14..just to get away from her home..she stayed with that man till she was 21. He beat her up and abused her too. She finally left him after her daughter was a year old. He then came after her with a knife …She met my dad soon after and married him ..My father was abandoned by his mother and father and raised by his grandmother they both fed a desire in each other one to be protected and the other to be loved. They are still together. But we the kids still were impacted by her abuse. I never knew growing up not until after I left at 18 did she confide in me and she really thought that I would not love her anymore because of her past..Crazy, that it still hurt her and was still in her so much. For me it was not till after I had children I found myself over protective and I realized it was what I had viewed growing up that I thought was normal to be like…I think my daughter will be good..I don’t think it will affect her. But it did me, from learning that jealous was not love..and learn to truly trust another.I never met my mothers parents for that I am grateful and I do hope and pray that my mother can find peace some day….Ladies I grew up with the effects of abuse in my mother how it ate at her confidence but it drove her to be the parent she never had..That is my greatest gift my mother has given me…I hope all the victims of that kind of abuse find some peace. With all my heart I feel for you and your pain.
Reblogged this on Spectrum Perspectives and commented:
This has nothing to do with autism, but it was so very powerful; Trigger warning-sexual abuse of children
You two are great, as is Officer Paul. I’m glad that he took you seriously, especially as that isn’t always the case. The police in my case were far less accommodating. Your story gives me hope that people are taking CSA seriously now.
Thanks for sharing your story and shining light on this dark issue.
I was molested by my uncle, who is about 5 or 6 years older than I am, when i was about 10 – 13. I will be 49 this year and still struggle with all of it. I didn’t know there was anything wrong for a lot of years. Then I started to make the connection between the abuse and the way that I thought and felt about myself. I was filled with shame and guilt and embarrassment and never told anyone. I finally got up the courage (liquid courage actually) to tell a friend and her response was that it happens to so many people that it wasn’t really a big deal. So, why was it a big deal to me? I hid my dirty little secret again. A few years later, I was in counselling for my marriage and I decided to broach the subject again to see if there was any connection. The counsellor asked if “maybe I was playing on the wrong team?” I was disgusted and went in to hiding again, secretly letting my secret destroy my self esteem. I finally found people that I trust and started sharing my story. I have a long way to go, but I have made progress and actually have a happy, healthy, second marriage. My mom died when I was 32. We were standing lobby of the funeral home, greeting people who were coming to the prayers and viewing and he walked in. I really wanted to kick him in the nuts. I really wanted to yell and scream at him about how he had f’ed up my life. Instead, he came in for a sympathy hug and I accepted! What a fraud I felt like. What a liar. I have carried that with me for the last 16 years. In one fell swoop of that hug, I began to convince myself that because I didn’t stand up for myself I was saying that what happened was somehow my fault. I don’t know what I would do today, if I ever saw him. I have my dream scenarios, but in the end, I am confident that I would do nothing. Is there value in doing something? Is there anything he could say that would undo the damage that was done? Thankfully, he lives across the country from me and thankfully I don’t have to think about or deal with what I would or wouldn’t say to him. Thank you for writing this post and thank you for allow me to share a bit of my story. <3
I so understand. SO GLAD you’re finding a healthy healing community to talk, tell, recover. Kudos to you, Dawn. KEEP TELLING!
My great uncle came to my dad’s rosary service the night before dad’s memorial service. Came in with his new wife, a heiress with loads of money. Took his seat to pay “respect” to my dad. My older sister was there. (I was not attending, wasn’t able to do the rosary thing but did the memorial service the next day. I had told my dad before his death and he believed me.) My sister saw my uncle there, went over to my dad’s best friend and to dad’s brother, told them something. They stood up, turned around, went over to my uncle and whispered in his ear. I am told he stood up promptly, wiggled out of the seat as they escorted him out. (both were retired police so he wouldn’t mess with them). His wife could never understand what had happened, why they were not allowed to attend, but they were not there the next day – for this I am thankful. He died soon after. KEEP talking, keep telling, girl. Proud of you!
My mother kicked me in the side told me to move my body more while my dad was raping me. She leered over us. I was frozen from fear and pain. Then after he was done they went and fucked each other. He didnt cum in me. I was left on the cold tile floor….mrs. beasly my doll had been kicked out of the way. I could only look into her eyes while it was happening. Then when she told me to move more she got frustrated. ….she kicked me….and moved my doll…my security. And now the words in my head scresm LIAR LIAR LIAR LIAR LIAR i overheard she is too young she wont remember.
Then there were others. The neighbor. The babysitter. My cousins. My grandfather. i did not know i was abused until i was 14. Did not remember my parents. Did remember everyone else. Told mom about them at 14. She said you weren’t raped. She walked away…never said anything else about it.
Later in life i started acting out. I have pictures on the Internet. ..movies. i was on Craigslist. I didn’t understand. Had an affair went to swing clubs…i hate 50 shades of gray
Almost got divorced. Told my mom about my porn. And as i was sobbing out the story she got this sick twisted i am turned on by what you are telling me look. I hate eyes…that is my story. It has fucked me up. She is still alive so is my dad. While out exercising today i thought i saw my father it wasnt. I hate that….
Praying that you find counseling to help with all of this pain!
There are no words. I cannot tell you the pain in my heart for you right now. You were a tiny precious being and were never to blame. You were NOT a LIAR. YOU ARE A TRUTH-TELLER and I am proud of you for telling your story. I believe you. I BELIEVE you. You are in my heart always. XOXOXX
I am deeply praying for you. Praying you will be free of all of this crap that you have been put through in your life. You are soooo precious. I pray you will be FULLY healed, that you will not be shackled to any guilt, to any addiction to porn or anything else. That you will experience a miracle of freedom.
There is evil in this world and I am so sorry that you were set down in it like that. I hurt for you. I hope that you find the beauty that is in this world, to heal that ugly wound.
My heart goes out to you and I am so very sorry for what you went through. I have been thinking about your story ever since I read it here months ago and I just want so badly to go back and save that little girl. The thought of your lousy excuses for parents just makes me want to vomit. And I just keep searching my head and soul, How, HOw do we stop this from happening? How do we protect these poor vulnerable children trapped in homes with these types of loathsome parents?
Thank you. To be clear, my mother did believe me, my father still does not. And the way I think we stop it is by shining a light on it and talking about it. Sexual abuse can only remain the epidemic is if WE remain a culture that attaches shame to it. Thank you for doing your part by talking about it. xo
I have read every comment, but how do I stop the email. I have to. I can’t read more. just can’t. can someone tell me how to get to stop emailing me?
I believe there is a spot when you receive new comments to press “unsubscribe to new comments”. I definitely understand it is overwhelming. Take Care <3
Monica, I get that. It’s a LOT.
This is fabulous! I did dance (really just stomp) on some graves several years ago. I’m happy that you got such a wonderful response. I wonder if I had thought to do that what might have happened. Blessings to you for sharing this story. I’ll be passing it on.
http://musingsandmeanderings-mlp.blogspot.com/
One of mine died a few years ago…didnt start talking about it until after he died.
The other one I finallly made a report threw my Therapist …but heard nothing back….probably because its to long ago.
That sucks …that there is limitations on those things…just because the law says so ….there isnt any limitations on what it has done to my life.
Very powerful. Thank you for writing it out for the rest of us to read. I wasn’t sexually abused but was abused repeatedly in other ways. If ANYONE had believed me, I would be a different woman today. If anyone had actually written it down, well, I can’t even imagine what it would have felt like to have that kind of affirmation. It is very powerful to learn that another person values us and our experiences enough to take them seriously. In fact, I suspect that is the key to healing. I’m glad you girls are healing. Thank God for that and for Officer Smith…and thank God for YOU and your transparency.
Reblogged this on Matt Bays and commented:
Occasionally a story pierces the heart…calling out to the dark memories within and asking them to step out of the shadows. And if that story has enough redemptive power in it, our memories obey almost without question. This is one of those stories.
Wow…. Thank you for sharing your story. This is truly amazing. I can’t tell you how many times I have fantasized that a policeman would have come to arrest my Grandfather or that someone in a position of authority would hear me and believe my story with compassion. Thank you Officer Paul for your compassion. I’m just stunned and in awe by this. In some strange way, because we’re all connected, my heart is lighter because of reading this story….my story…so many of our stories. Thank you for your bravery and honesty.
I know the reason we feel lighter..
because as we read that he listened and took it seriously, he didn’t berate or mock or humiliate…
he honored all of us and somehow we all got a little bit of dignity back and somehow a great deal of honor was restored to the society that we each live in and somehow, I may even have a little more respect for those in authority all because one person took it seriously.
I think that’s right- and I also think that this is how things change. By shining a light on things, both good and bad.
Reblogged this on Matt Bays and commented:
Occasionally a story pierces the heart and then calls into the darkness of the hidden memories there, asking them to step out of the shadows. If the story has enough redemptive power in it, our memories will obey almost without question. This is one of those stories.
wow. i am stunned by all i have read on this page. It helps me understand what many people go through. i am so sorry for all that each of you has suffered. I am a pastor of a church. I am reflecting on ways we can be a safe place for victims. any ideas?
There is a program called Stewards of Children that is offered all over. Please goggle it or e-mail at owensr3@NKU.edu and I can try to help you get the information needed to get the members of your church trained on how to keep the children safe.
So thoughtful and a welcome response!
Matt, when you come across that person who has been abused, when they are ready, GIVE THEM A PLATFORM…a video story, a testimony. There are so many in your congregation that need someone to show them HOW to tell their story – someone to call them out of their hiding places. Take the risk, knowing that some of your congregants will be uncomfortable.
I think the best way for you to be a safe place for victims is for you, as church leadership, to TALK ABOUT IT. Victims will never know or believe that they can turn to you, if you’ve never told them that they can. And sadly, too many churches have historically been part of the problem. In order to show them you are different, in order to be part of the solution, you’re going to have to have the uncomfortable conversation. The reason there is so much shame is because this exists, like all shameful things, in the dark. Be a beacon of light- shame cannot survive in the light. Thank you for asking that question.
There is also a program called adult survivors of child abuse. I found it while searching for something to help me. I plan to start a group. I have two friends to help me facilitate. Timing….thats what is holding us back right now.
There are groups across the nation and Canada I believe too.
It doesn’t have to be located anywhere in particular but I feel a church could offer free room use and be a discrete place for asca to meet. I’d encourage you to check out the information below.
http://www.ascasupport.org
It is a
Adult Survivors of Child Abuse (ASCA SM) is an international self-help support group program designed specifically for adult survivors of neglect, physical, sexual, and/or emotional abuse. The ASCA SM program offers:
Community based self-help support groups
Provider based self-help support groups
Web based self-help support groups
Survivor to Thriver workbooks
I could have written this…. My grandfather also molested me and my sister. We were scared we kept his secret. I told my mother (was her father) I did not get much support, but I finally told….
Good for you, truth teller. I am so sorry that happened to you.
I remember sitting at my grandpa’s funeral and listening to my cousin’s and dad and aunt talk about what a great dad and grandpa he was and all I could think of was, no he wasn’t! I wanted to stand up and shout about all that he had done to me, not that anyone would believe me after all these years, but I just sat their quietly and cried.
I am so sorry. And you are absolutely right. NO HE WASNT!
Thank you so much for posting this–and special appreciation to those who’ve shared their stories.
Laura. Oh Laura. How can he write it down if I can’t even write it down. It happened from age 5 to about 10, and by sheer numbers, that makes at least 364 times. When I was 19, I went to therapy….for two whole years…and NEVER talked about it. At 27, I’m trying again. Most of the time, I can’t use words. I’m well-educated, kinda smart, and relatively successful, and I. Can’t. Use. Any. Words. Then I was told by a pastor at church that I just don’t have the “capacity” to deal with this…. Now what? How do you do it? How do you speak?
Rachel, when the idea of staying silent for one more second becomes untenable, you will tell your story. And I will listen.
Wow. This means so much. Some days it feels as if the silence will kill me. But the fear and shame seem to be stronger. I so want to let it out, but the words can’t come. But thank you. You read this. You listened. You responded.
Rachel, you have taken a brave step in writing what I just read. There will be many more brave steps.
Just like you are doing now, Rachel. Step. By. Step. Sometimes baby steps. Sometimes leaps. But it’s a journey. Kudos for your courage to write here. You know, the abuse I suffered was much bigger than what I wrote about in my comment. I KNOW you have the capacity to deal with it. I have found God is so much bigger, better, loyal, loving, dedicated and determined to see me free. He’s so much more, I found out. SO MUCH MORE. And He’s so for you, telling or not telling. Keep going for it, girl. YOU DO HAVE WHAT IT TAKES.
Thank you Kathy. Your words are meaningful. I have to be honest….I feel completely abandoned by God. But I will keep on this journey for now. Step by step. Your words will keep me going for today. Keep me believing that this is not impossible.
What about writing it down for yourself? Could you write it down – phrases, words, whatever you can manage – and give that to a counselor, maybe?
Something about your comment reminded me of my journey. I call 28 “the age of reckoning” and for some it’s maybe a bit earlier. I also sat in therapy and never mentioned these things. When I finally did mention the abuse, I acted as if I was completely over it (because I felt I should be). But I could only speak in broad terms…it was very difficult to talk about the fears I was carrying around.
No one will be able to tell you when it’s time to speak…only you will know. And yes, as Kathy said…step by step.
When I had begun to speak more of my abuse and was gaining some ground and courage, there were still a couple events that had never crossed my lips. I knew those in particularl needed to be said. So one day when I still couldn’t say them, I said to my counselor, “There’s something I’m not telling you about this story. I’m not ready to talk about it right now, but there is more.” To which he replied very simply, “Okay Matt…thanks for letting me know” Two sessions later, I told him.
You will get there. As we say in AA, “Thanks for sharing…and KEEP COMING!” Stay in some form of therapy…that is what will get you the most traction. And if you don’t like your counselor, switch up…find someone else. I’m so sorry for all you’ve gone through but you can totally do this…as far as surviving, you already have!
I hear and understand. Find someone else who will walk with you through this. I was 42 when it came to light. You dont have to use words. You can paint…draw…kick…scream. i get it. i really do…
I am so sorry for this deep hurt. I know it is something you can’t put into words yet, but as someone who loves Jesus, I know you can be set free from the hurt. I have lived with similar secrets and I am finally set free! It took over 20 years to tell, but I did. When we bring things to light, darkness loses it’s power. Know you have people championing FOR you!! You are so deeply loved!
You know how it is when you’re cleaning a closet that hasn’t been cleaned in years, and for a while it just feels like all the junk from the closet is filling the room beyond it, and everything is a mess, and why did I even open this closet?* And then, eventually, you work through it, and throw out the trash, and clean out the grotty corners, and sort the rest and put it away more or less neatly. And then it’s your closet, and hey, maybe you don’t like everything that’s in it, but you aren’t afraid to open it, and eventually don’t even wince when you open it because you’ve taken ownership of it.
It’s hard. If you can, you wait until you have some time and space to deal with it, because yeah, it’s probably going to take up a lot of your life for a bit. But it gets better. And the shame is maybe the thing that for me, anyway, got the most better, and the soonest. Because when I really took things out and looked at them straight on, I had to accept that they were not, in fact, my fault.
For me, and this is twenty-six years after I began dealing with my own abuse, that’s more or less how it’s been. Most of the time, it’s just another aspect of my somewhat colorful past. And at this point, while I absolutely wouldn’t wish my childhood on anyone, I also can’t really unwish it on me, because I really like the person I am, and like the life I have, and, well, if everything were completely different, than everything would be completely different.
A line from a favorite book – “That my uncle was cruel to me and my household taught me compassion.” We are shaped by our pasts. That’s inevitable. But we can also choose how we are shaped by our pasts. Not all at once, maybe, but over time. And if the lessons we learn are hard ones, we can also, sometimes, make them good ones, so that something comes out of all that pain. I’m not saying it can be worth it – but we are worth it. You are worth it.
I don’t talk about the abuse in my family a whole lot, not because it makes me uncomfortable, but because it makes other people uncomfortable. A lot of people know a little. (Especially people who think they’re doing the world a service by lecturing me on why I should spend the holidays with my parents. And even then, I’ll usually smile and calmly say “My parents were abusive and criminal in their treatment of me and my siblings. If you’d really like I’ll explain further, but I suspect you would rather not.” It’s kind of amazing how many people respond with “Oh, I wouldn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.” “Oh, no, this is all stuff I’ve put to rest years ago, and I’m happy to discuss it. It’s your comfort that’s on the table.” But, as I said, I have to be pretty provoked to push it even that far.)
But… it’s just a thing now, mostly. A few quirks and foibles that I might explain to a lover. (Or a housemate. Never, ever enter a room where I am sleeping uninvited short of the gravest emergency. Please.) At times a somewhat dark sense of humor.
I feel like I’m writing from such a different place that I don’t really know if anything I say can really reach where you are now. So maybe I should just stop with this:
It gets better.
* Okay, I don’t have closets like that, though the house where I grew up did. Though the shelves and drawers in the lab where I work are like that, which is pretty terrifying, really. I think most of us have dealt with something like that, though.
first of all, I think the closet analogy is brilliant and apt. It’s that ‘worse before it gets better’ moment, when you think, “why on EARTH did I even START this project, at least when the closet was messy I could shut the door!” I SO get that.
I’ve said this a bunch of times now, and while it may seem repetitive… Sorry not sorry. Other people’s comfort isn’t more important than your pain and your need to speak your truth. You have a right to walk in the light with your story. You just DO.
The closet is the perfect description. I KNOW it will get worse before better because the boxes will be opened. And I worry I won’t be able to do it; physically, mentally….like what if I can’t actually breath? Dramatic, I know, but that’s the fear. This, though: “It gets better.” This helps.
It was 40 years before I could verbalize the traumas.
Before I could process what happened.
Before I could watch the whole scene play out in my mind.
your brain protects you, I think. It puts up barriers to remembering until you can handle it.
I started out by weaving together a story of abuse that spanned 3 generations of women until the pattern was broken by breaking the silence.
“The Storming Rage of Silence”
On the the cover is a little girl with her finger over her lips…. “Shhh”
To keep anyone person from being identified I took several people including those in my family ant told their story starting back in the 40’s.
It was very therapeutic.
As I began to deal with these thoughts and memories as though they were someone elses… I was able to touch them.
Eventually I was able to accept that these things really happened, it should not have, these people were wrong on so many levels and I really wanted to be healed… I sought a therapist to tell my story to. I thought all hell would break loose when I told. I was told to breathe and go pet my dog.
the writing did more good than anything.
The writing helps- no matter who does it. I’m sorry all hell DIDN’T break loose- that’s actually the appropriate response. But dogs DO help, don’t they? Be well, brave truth teller.
Reblogged this on Vegan -Health and Hope.
It happened once. Lucky for me, it happened after I began to discover feminism. Else he would still teach, would still have sex with his recently graduated students. Because “they’re legal, they’re not [his] students anymore, there’s nothing wrong with it.” I am blessed to have the family who helped me do what I know was right.
He will never teach again in Oregon. His source of naive and trusting girls is gone.
Strength be to you, to us, to we who have suffered at their hands. May we always have love and support and law enforcement that believes us.
So good, LittleBird, so good. Thanks, so encouraging what you’ve done. Thank you for counting the cost and for telling so others will not have to suffer in such a way. Thank, You.
GOOD. FOR. YOU.
This is a beautiful story of healing, and the power of telling and being heard. You are an artist, and your poetry will bring relief to other’s pain. Like Richard Hoffman, and his poets. Thank you for writing your truth.
I’m a man. 54 years old. I was never sexually abused, but I was beaten 3 times a week from the age of 5 till 12, when my brand new step father grabbed my mothers arm and said “never again.” In my youth she kept a brown extension cord in the closet next to my room, that was fashioned into a sort of Cat of Nine Tails, and hung on the wall where she could easily grab it and “teach me a lesson that I won’t soon forget.” Apparently I had a bad memory as I soon forgot my lessons and new ones came every couple of days. I pretty much had constant scabbing welts on my legs, shaped like the looped end of the brown cord, and still bear the scars. My two older sisters also hit me whenever they felt like it, and it continued this way for years. My mom is 81 now and denies it ever happened, and my sisters downplay it as if I had it coming.To this day I can’t remember ever hugging my mother, and I generally don’t like women and it has effected my own marriage. Sexual and Physical abuse are problems on both sides of the fence, and I’m writing this down for myself because nobody gives a shit except me.
I give a shit. You didn’t “have it coming” no matter if you were a handful of a little boy or not. That is not parenting.
thank YOU for sharing your story. I am so sorry. What you endured as a little one is beyond words. You should NEVER have gone through that, not ever. Not once.
My husband was also “spanked”, as his mom and dad would say. He has few memories but his older sister tells of the welts the belt buckle would leave on her back and legs, having to miss school, change her clothing to cover the welts, the shame, the anger. My husband cannot remember, and I am thankful for that. His sister says he was not spared. He flees from anger around him, is a peacemaker at any cost, yet his own internal anger leeks out at times on the dog or sometimes on me. He’s working hard to overcome this. THANK YOU for sharing your story. Again, I am so sorry. You never deserved it. Not Ever.
I don’t know you but I give a shit….for that little boy long ago and for the hurting man you are now. May you heal.
I also give a shit. I don’t know you but I send you LOVE. You are a gift to this earth and did not deserve any of that abuse.
@Ul approved I’m 36, I can relate to what you’re saying. I grew up in a house where I was a complete stranger at least that’s how I felt I still do:-( my dad, mom and siblings beat me up every chance they get, my mom will wake up @3am and blend pepper while I’m still sleeping mix it with water then my dad and siblings would all come to my room then my mom will undress me and kinda prep me with this mixture while my dad and sibling will beat me with sticks, cords, and punches. It lasted for more than 10 years until I was through from high school. My dad passed 6yrs ago didn’t own up to it, my mom never talks about it and my siblings act as though I deserved what I got. I was raped @ 17 in my neighborhood I was afraid tell my family because they will say it was my fault. I got a great job and worked for more than a decade all I did was take care of them thinking they will ask for apology but they never did. I’m married to a wonderful husband and I live here in America but I’ve nightmares, and I struggle to be a woman and wife. I don’t have any kids and I’ve resentments. Like most you I’m taking each day @a time.
Many would say that what happened to you was unspeakable, but you just SPOKE IT. You brave woman.
Here’s the thing about being THAT kid, the one who was beaten, verbally abused, sexually abused, emotionally scared and scarred, THAT kid, who was bent and twisted until at times you really didn’t know which way was up, who rode the emotional roller-coaster until things which simply shouldn’t happen just… seem… normal. Yeah, here’s the thing about that.
I give a shit. Done is done and we can’t go back and change what happened, and you’re mostly right about nobody giving a shit. Mostly, but not entirely.
Because some of us went there too, and we know the pain. And I’m not trying to blow sunshine your way when I tell you I give a shit, I really do.
My mother was the beater and the physical sexual abuser, an emotional manipulator. My father was the emotional tyrant who got some sick jolly from tormenting my waking moments proving to me that I was worthless, abusing me through “verbal sexuality” and sheer, brutal denigration, using me on the farm like a slave, speaking to others like they were human, speaking to me like I was dog shit he’d stepped in barefoot. Brothers and sisters went along, either kept in the dark and refuting my pleas for help and validation, or joining in.
And it makes you feel like you’re crazy, because no one will corroborate what you’ve seen and been through, and you’re called “paranoid” and “a pathetic liar” when you tell. Eventually you just quit telling, because no one gives a shit.
So I’ll be honest, most people DON’T give a shit, because they haven’t been there; but some of us have. We get it, and we give a shit, because we want you to understand — finally — that you’re not alone.
Part of you hates yourself, knowing on some weird level that you must be somehow in the wrong. After all, being singled out that way just doesn’t make any kind of sense, none at all. And yet it really happened, again and again.
And so another part of you hates and distrusts other people for so many reasons, from so desperately needing some form of affection and never quite getting it, to self-fulfilling prophecy when you’re so damned certain anything you dare to love will be taken away or leave or just be lost to you. Defense mechanism builds on defense mechanism and pretty soon you need love like you need air yet you don’t know anymore how to breathe.
It affects relationships; it affects your work, your hobbies, your beliefs and goals, it affects your sleeping hours. You know precisely what is meant by that line in “In the Line of Fire” when the villain asks “What do you think about, late at night when the demons come?”.
I’m telling you, I give a shit, and I give a shit enough to try to help you out some, because as long as you’re still breathing, the rest of your life can still belong to you, and not the people who brought you to this place.
I once lamented to myself that it’s a crying shame the person who most influenced my life hated my guts. So what’s the answer?
The answer is… forget ’em. Easier said than done, I admit; but like you said, your mother denies it, your sisters downplay it, others don’t believe you — so it’s up to YOU to offer yourself resolution, validation and resurrection.
Focus on the NOW, and forget what’s done. There’s no changing it. Stop wearing your life backwards and looking at the past, start with small steps here, now, today, and start looking toward now and tomorrow and the future.
When the past calls, cut the line. If your family is poisonous, stop drinking the Kool-Aid they’re going to keep offering you. Stop wasting what’s left of YOUR life on THEM, and start living for you and yours.
You’re never gonna fully trust people, but THAT’s OKAY — find the select few you CAN trust, and rejoice in them, learn to accept them for who and what they are. Do yourself that favor, I mean it. And when you feel broken and lost, take a look at what you ARE, the good and the bad. Rejoice in the good, improve it if you can, and rather than wallowing in the bad, critically examine it, choose how you want to change it, and take those steps.
Meaning to and wanting to… they’re not the same as doing.
If that step-father is alive, seek him out and just ASK him — what am I changing in memory, and what really happened? It’s a way of learning about yourself. Learning that you’re not crazy is a powerful feeling that can change things.
Walk away from your mother and sisters. Are they actually doing you any good? For some family is blood; but for others… we make our family as we go.
I hereby give you something valuable: I give you permission to be who you are, and to live. Wake up tomorrow and DO something. If it’s go to work, then go in and HIT it. If it’s the weekend, pick out something you always wanted to do and never did — a hobby, a place, an event. End your day feeling like you LIVED.
It’s too late to win all the toys, but it’s NEVER too late to start being alive and realizing just how wonderful breathing can be.
I don’t think you can forget what’s done. I think it’s actually a little dangerous to do that, in the long run. What I think you CAN do is walk that awfulness into the light. Get some help. Do the work. And then lay it down, honey. It’s not yours to carry- it never was.
Thank you for sharing. With cheeks soaked in tears I care. I have sons of my own. I am sorry you never received the love from a mother’s touch. You needed that for so many reasons. She missed out on one of life’s greatest treasures.
You were not to blame for ANY of it. You were a treasure missed. But not today.
I give a shit. I am so sorry for what you have suffered. Thank you for sharing.
I am so very sorry. No one should endure what you did; none of us should endure the violence we endured. . . .May you be blessed with the capacity to heal and to find light.
From my experiences, you NEVER forget, but you can find ways to thrive and tools to move forward.
Namaste (the spirit in me honors the spirit in you)
I care. I’d like to give that little boy the hugs he deserved. Thank you for telling. That matters too. Your life matters.
count me in as giving a shit. child abuse pays little attention to gender: all children are vulnerable and anyone bigger than us had power over us.
I’ll let you in on a secret: I give so much of a shit about this that I want to start a revolution around it. what happened to you, to me, to everyone writing here and elsewhere, as well as all those who have not yet found their voices or who have no access to keyboards, microphones, pens, canvas, tape…
I have a hunch we are in greater company than many folks would even want to know.
oh my. my cousin found your blog. she knew it would resonate with me.
my torment surface a little over a year ago through repressed memories. oh my gosh how strange it was…………..it IS!!! no one is alive that can validate what happened….
you know i know it happened…………. i have journaled, had flash-back THE WORST! anyway I KNOW It happened but how i wish someone would say, ‘yes katrina, it did happen, and yes it was wrong, and yes, you were too little to do anything about it. you didn’t know what was happening. you didn’t want to upset anyone, you were trying to be good. 2 1/2 how in the world would someone do that to a little girl(or boy) that was WRONG! so so so wrong, it is not your fault, you matter and are worthy and are loved and are STRONG! you can speak up now. YOU, Katrina, have found your VOICE! no one will ever hurt you or anyone you can help ever again.. you are strong, strong to speak up and say STOP! THIS IS WRONG! I MATTER AND YOU WILL NOT HURT ME ANY MORE……..
now if i could just go on………………….
i thought i had……………
but this week is the anniversary of when I was at my lowest……………….. so all that i gained from all that i have done to get past, glean tools…………it seems like i am starting over again…………..like i have laryngitis. it is almost like it hurts to think………….
will it ever go away?
i know it won’t.
i know it is like pealing back layers……….it is in the a process that one begins to heal the scares but gosh it is like my scare has been ripped open a-n-d the skin had just covered/grown over it or so i thought. and now it is exposed yet one more time………
thank you for sharing… i am so sorry what you and your sister and others here have experienced………….it’s not right… doesn’t make sense. I am sorry but am thankful for those like you who share their story.
you know, I use to say Good comes from everything……….
but somehow it makes it seem like ever situation must be good for good to come out of it…………….
now i say from every situation God comes out of………………….or not all situations are good, but God comes out of every situation.
I understand. Much the same for me. For me, it was a journey, my counselor told me there IS light at the end of the tunnel, and walking through the pain rather than avoiding it is what brings healing. I remind myself that visiting a place of pain again in not the same as living there in it, even though it may feel like it. It’s temporary. YOU ARE SO STRONG! YOU DO MATTER, so very MUCH.
Wow, you are real 😉
Your response ‘visiting a place of pain again is not living there’. Powerful words. Strong words.
well, I know my visit will be the length o f time my mind is prepared to handle…but luckily this type pain is not my home.
It’s a rainy gloomy day here at my home in Texas….but I don’t feel consumed.
May sound silly but your quick response has put a smile on my face.
thank you!
Katrina
Good and healing thoughts to yous.
Kate
It has been so much to take in over this past week. Laura- I want you to know that I feel with you in what must be at times very overwhelming feelings when 90 comments pop up! I am so amazed at the generosity of kindness in which you continue to hold space for these stories….. and they just keep coming. I want everyone to know that I am reading what you write, I am drinking it in and I hear you. I am a therapist of 15 years now because I am well aware that I would be dead had I not found the right one to hold my horror in their hands as I leaned into this one messed up little life I have. This shame is like a cancer in us; it will grow until it kills us if we don’t get it out. I feel so grateful to be present with all of you in this funky global social media movement. And those few that have reached back and read my story have made me feel heard in those ways that we need over and over again. I think we will need them for the rest of our lives? Thank you for allowing me to share in your courageous moment.
#couragerevolution
Agreed. I have 125 comments from this blog (and growing) saved in a separate file I created in my inbox, to remind me of just how powerful telling our story is…and how devastating this kind of loss is…and how there are so many out there who actually get this kind of pain, move through it, aren’t defined by it, yet always acknowledge it. Thanks amgregory2013 for dedicating your career/calling to something so compassionate and useful.
my father was my abuser. it began when I was 5. but he disappeared for a while, and at 10 i felt safe to tell my mom. She called me a liar. Told me to keep quiet about such things, that we needed the child suppoort check he sent, even if i never saw him. then at 14 he decided he wanted visitation again. Mom made me go, every other weekend. Im 31 now, and a mom to two beautiful girls. I dont allow him to see them, and my whole family (his side) thinks it because Im just snooty. But its because when his younger sister, my aunt, came forward, they all labelled her a drug addict, a drunk, just trying to ruin someone else’s life. They say the same of my cousin, who is my age. No one stopped to ask them why they hurt so much they seek to numb the pain by any means possible. So i remain the bad guy, the one who is “hiding” her children from thier grandfather, but if it protects them, so be it.
I wish you strength, Christina, as you continue to protect your children. It is so sad to me when families don’t honour what their daughters/nieces/sons/etc tell them. YOU know the truth. Find others to be your family. LOVE to you.
Your family and kids may never understand why you’re doing what you’re doing, but it’s absolutely the right thing to do. Hang in there.
Hide those kids. You are doing the right thing. So brave. Often people cave to the manipulation of the family and continue to take their kids around those they know are abusers. Keep up the good work…and NEVER feel like you have to keep his secret. I’m sure there are others in the family with kids that need protected. The more that know who he really is, the more children saved from this kind of hell.
Power to you Christina. You are doing the right thing.
Thank you.
thanks for sharing your story. My adopted daughter has a similar story and she was amazed when I told her that if she had been here in America, I would have believed her and called the police and the man would have been arrested. Her birth mother and father knew what was happening by the town pedophile and did NOTHING!!! I shared the FB post on my FB for my daughters. Bless you for sharing and for the police response- such healing!
I can’t tell you how refreshing this is to hear, as odd as that may sound. The way you speak about it shows that you have not let it ruin your life, that you do not let it define you. But, you also know it is serious and you have been done wrong. I was raped two years ago and never got involved with the police. This almost makes me want to. Just because I can.
I think there is immeasurable power in telling your story- I hope you do.
I was sexually abused from my earliest memories until the age of 11 or 12 . He is dead now and unfortunately , was cremated. I always said I would dance on his grave . Now I cant . Ive had some therapy but now , at the age of 44 , I have been agoraphobic for 19 years . There are no psychiatrists or psychologists in the area and I cant travel very far to go and see someone who can help me . It was determined that the sexual abuse is the root of my panic disorder and agoraphobia . Im missing out on life . That bastard is still ruining my life . Or rather , Im still allowing him to . He never had to answer for what he did and yet Im still suffering . I know how hard it is to talk about . But once you do , it gets easier and easier . I have no problem saying ” I was sexually abused as a child ” to anyone . But , it hasn’t freed me ., I want so much more out of life than the way I am living now . Im so glad you ladies got to tell your story and be heard . God bless you and stay strong .
Melissa, I hope you are able to find a way to get some help and support so that you are free to live a life as big and as free as you want it to be. I will be praying for you.
Thank you . Ive been trying to get help for years . There just doesn’t seem to be any .
Melissa, have you looked into therapy via Skype? I actually just heard of someone doing that. That way, it doesn’t so much matter if they’re local.
Melissa, have you looked into counseling via the internet or by phone?
I was looking into internet therapy this morning but they all cost more than I can afford . Ive been on disability since 2000 for the panic attacks so I only have medicare and Medicaid and so far , they don’t cover online therapy . Or I haven’t seen 1 doctor yet who accepts it . I haven’t looked into phone therapy but Im sure that too isn’t covered .
Melissa, I’m going to give this some thought.
What about a university that trains counselors? Sometimes you can find a place like that that has a sliding fee scale, and will let you pay only what you can afford. You might try contacting some colleges near you and see if there are any possibiliites there.
Thank you for sharing! I too am a survivor of abuse and my abuser is still alive and living a lie deceiving so many. I get sick to my stomach if I even think about having to be in the same town. Family always wanting to know why I won’t come to family functions,
Keeping my distance is all I can do. I know I’m not his only victim and now that he is sick and soon to die I can only pray for my soul for feeling glad he is going to hell. I have written everything down to help deal with the emotional pain this man caused. And I share my story in confidence with others to help.
This is one of the most powerful pieces of writing I’ve ever read and I’m a reader, writer, survivor and activist. Thank you for sharing this experience. It was healing for me. I’ve shared it on my personal and activist page. And I’m a follower of your writing now. Thank you. Christine Cissy White
Thank you, Christine. Heading to check out your page now. xo
On thursday my son (adopted for from foster care) told his story to a case worker. This isn’t the story we all know, of his bio mom and all the families and the neglect and the bio dad who didn’t want him. This was the story of the foster family, the nice ones, the ones who had him for 3 years, the ones who were stable…. he told of spankings (on the shins and arm with a paint stick) handcuffs and spoons of vinegar. This was four years ago and now the family is being investigated for various things. My heart is broken again, partly because in all we have gone through, I didn’t even know to ask the questions, I didn’t know most of it. It seemed normal to him and better than the alternative. I saw how powerful it was for him to be heard by an authority and believed by us. For us to say we are so sorry this happened to you and we’re glad you told us and this shouldn’t have happened.
I was four and it happened once, the sexual molestation. My dad’s best friend. We moved away. he died when I was nine. We went to his funeral– so much love for him and I was secretly glad he was dead, and guilty because maybe he did it to someone else. I minimized it. I didn’t want to hurt my dad, who carried his best friend’s Bible still. When I was 30 and the panic attacks were so bad and the depression form having to be perfect and holding it all in and I had my own babies to care for. I told my parents — they heard me, they threw out the man’s Bible, they didn’t minimize it like I had, they grieved with me.
Being head is powerful. Being believed is healing and when someone will cry with you, it makes you matter.
I am so very glad you were heard and believed.
I read things like this and it does little by little possibly give me the strength to do something…. My abuse is a blur and like so many has come back in spurts or flashbacks… I don’t remember a lot of my childhood and I finally realized why around the beginning of my marriage 15 years ago. I think for most of my life I blocked it all out until I was around 18 or 19 when my cousin reminded me what “he did to us”… She seemed shocked I did not remember much and pretty much clammed up from that day forward. She has almost been afraid to be alone with me ever since. I have wanted to get her alone a million times since that day but she avoids me. Mostly because the guy who sexually abused us was her first cousin on her mom’s side of the family (I am her cousin on her dad’s side). And in the middle of all this the guy kills himself. I went to his funeral with my parents (they do not know about this to this day) and thought I was going to throw up the whole time as I watched the sister he abused moan and whail like I have never heard anyone do before… It’s all so crazy… Sometimes I think I am going crazy! Why are we still protecting him?!?! He killed himself!!!! Probably because of some of the awful things he did to children!!!! I know a big reason why I stay silent is because of my family… Only my husband and a few friends know what happened to me… I think my family would fall apart and I am not sure if I could handle it… My mother thinks I had an amazing, perfect childhood and she loves to tell me how wonderful my childhood was and how awful hers was… Ha! If only she knew! And I am not sure my cousin would support me… It is all such a mess!!!! I could ramble for hours in this story but I am tired… Tired of this ick that consumes my life and tired of letting it but I just feel so helpless so much of the time… Where do I begin?! It would shatter my parents and my mom’s family and I am not sure I could pick up pieces… Or talk about it that much or so on and so on… Thank you for reminding me it NEVER should have happened to me… That statement alone makes me feel better and thank you for letting me share and ramble…
So, I get the not wanting your family to fall apart, and the being not ready, and the being terrified. The one thing I will say is, families with this sort of cancer growing inside them are already fractured. You speaking your truth, when and if you are ready, will not break it more than it is already broken. Thank you for sharing your story here- I am so sorry you went through that.
Thank you for sharing. . …bleeding on the page…. I don’t think is rambling. It’s processing. Which sometimes I hate that word, process, I just want to be DONE!
I don’t remember alot of my childhood either. I never thought it was a big deal. I really thought everyone remembered the same as me. My repressed memories hit just a little over a year ago.
It is the strangest thing to have these events that happened and me have NO idea they happened. ..and to ME! I have never talked to anyone with repressed memories. It’s crazy isn’t it!! And icky!! For me it became this deafening silence. I have had a lot hapoen in this pass15 months. I would like to encourage you to find a couselor. One has really helped me.
Listen to me….you matter, you are a precious person that did not deserve what happened to you. You did nothing to cause it…it was not your fault! Someone should have kept you safe!
It sounds like you are in a happy safe place now dealing with the ‘new’ slime. I’m sorry we and so many many others were not kept safe. But WE are survivors!
Much of time I have learned to make my own white noise to drowned out the deafening silence.
I must stop bleeding /processing now. Take care of yourself
The above was for anonymous.
I am still unable to say anything to my family because my step father is still alive, but I’ve got a pair of tap shoes I’m saving to use on his grave! But for now I’ve moved across the country and can only feel comfortable telling people who don’t know him! I wish I had someone strong enough to help me confront him like your cousin helped you! God Bless!
You need to do it when you are ready, but it shouldn’t have anything to with anyone else’s comfort. I wish we had done it when he was alive.
My little sister was abused when she was quite young (she’s 11 now) by one of my brothers. Twice. She told me about a year ago and I confronted him and told my parents. He was extremely remorseful and guilty (tears and all), but only apologized months later when my mum made him. He didn’t have the courage to talk to her about it. He still lives at home and it seems like all is forgiven and good between them… although I’m torn between knowing whether him being home is a safe thing or not, since it happened probably 4-6 years ago. Also, it makes it difficult because she loves him and would feel guilty if he had been thrown out of the house. Not my decision. I don’t know what I’d have done.
My question is: is there anything else I can do to help my little sister besides believing her and making sure she knows it was not her fault? Should my brother have been reported, even though it had been a few years since it happened and he was a minor at the time? She seems to have healed, but I have no clue how much it really affected her or not. I don’t like bringing it up because I don’t want to bring up bad memories for her (but maybe I should more often?) I don’t want her to grow up and still have to work through things if me and my parents are not doing enough to help her.
I think letting her know that if and when she needs to talk about it you are there and willing to listen is the biggest thing. I’ll be honest, I am concerned about them living under the same roof. I don’t know if either of them ever received any professional help, but I would strongly recommend it. I’ll be praying for her. For your whole family.
That’s really hard.
I don’t know where you are, and I don’t know what mandatory reporting laws are like in your area, but your parents might be between a bit of a rock and a hard place. In the US, at least, in some cases the treatment of minor perpetrators is sometimes pretty extreme and the science backing some of it is shaky at best. (I hope this has gotten better, but the most recent information I’ve seen indicates otherwise.) What your comment indicates to me about the age difference leaves me feeling pretty uncomfortable… but at the same time, there have been cases where pretty young kids have been branded as sexual offenders for not much more than playing doctor, so I really don’t think there are necessarily easy answers. (And my own experiences with CPS, as a teenager trying to deal with both early and ongoing abuse – though we never discussed the ongoing abuse, partly because it didn’t occur to me that there was anything actionable about it – were pretty awful.)
I don’t know what your sister needs. Maybe she’s gotten what she needs – she was heard, she was believed, there were consequences. Maybe not.
I would let her know that if she ever wants to talk you’re there for her. I was going to write a bit about not pushing her – and I still feel that, because darn it, you can’t help people deal with this shit if you don’t respect people’s autonomy and their ability to make their own decisions – but… darn she’s young.
One word of caution – if you have your own painful and complicated feelings about this (and how could you not) you might want to try to find other places to talk about it, so you don’t bring that confusion to your interactions with your sister. Often for kids part of the trauma is in how other people react. If she’s found her peace – let her find it. If she needs help, then do what you can to be that help or get her that help. But it would be so easy to feed her your own doubts, and that kind of thing is so very contagious.
Thanks, both of you. It helps. We’re in BC, Canada. I don’t know about laws pertaining to sexual abuse here… but I know that most of the time, minors get their records clean as soon as they turn 18 (or it might be 19). Except that it was never reported so it might be different if it was reported now.
Counseling is good advice. I’ll suggest it to my parents. Again, thank you. Even just for listening, although the advice is awesome.
I can’t tell you how thankful I am to have read this post. I am a healing victim of sexual abuse and recovering daily. I would love to dance on the creeps grave… If I knew it existed. It happened during my childhood and caused me to block so much (even all the best parts out.) To me- I “ignored” it for so long and at the same time punished myself my entire life for it …I struggled with anorexia, bulimia, and self mutulation and tried my absolute best to hide it from everyone. I just wanted to feel “normal.” Finally I’ve figured out that even though they were terrible, awful things that happened they made me who I am today.. a much kinder, compassionate person who tries every day to see and care for the heart of people. I’m thankful for everything that made me.. All the things that made me feel out of the group, lonely, isolated and unworthy because it made me feel even more connected with everyone else who felt out of the group, the ones who felt different from all the seemingly happy people, and the ones I think God really would have LoVeD hanging out with… Finally I figured out that God adores me and now I like me… Heck I LOVE ME and that feels really freakin’ good to say.) thanks for loving yourself so you could love others and help them learn to love themselves too … or as in my case thanks for loving others, so you could learn to love yourself and share this awesome story.
For Melissa…you might try looking up this group on the Internet..Together We Heal,they offer counciling to sexually abused or can direct you to other information. Also check if there is a Mending the Soul Group in your area…excellent group therapy. Alot of thereapist offer sliding scale…look on Good Therapy and Psycology Today. you want someone with atleast a Masters Degree…Also there are interns that work under a group and are very cheap.
Good luck to you…I know how it is to find help on a budget.
Also, Melissa- https://speakyoursilence.org
Try http://www.HopefulHeartsMinistry.com as a resource
I am not sure how I got here only that I looked at my browser over coffee and here was a tab open right here. From yesterday before I succumbed to what is called sleep.
I am not sure I should leave a comment at all other than to say yes these things happened to me too only not exactly the same things because it is different for everyone only the inability to abide with oneself seems quite similar across all of the way too many stories I have heard from others and the way too many stories I have to tell and have been telling and telling and sometimes I think I am going to run out of breath and fall right back into the earth and that will be that.
I was a girl when my brother raped me, when my church taught me I was going to burn in the Lake of Fire, when my family let me believe they were going to disappear in the rapture and I would be left behind, when some young man I had never seen before and would never see again tackled me on the beach and led me off behind the dunes and told me to take my clothes off and I remember staring into the sun and then I have my clothes back on and am looking for my grandmother who had left me playing in the sand and she finds me and says there you are and I say here I am and then nothing else.
I tell people I fell silent at 15 and did not learn to talk again for 15 more years which is sort of true although talking even now often feels like not talking at all. There are no words for it or that is no words that will cover it all take care of it all clean it up put clothes on it and take it home somewhere safe except home was not that so somewhere else I have to guess but I have not found it yet.
I am not a girl now perhaps obviously but what gender I am I cannot say or that is I haven’t found a name for it but I look like a middle-aged, balding, bearded, somewhat shall we say bohemian man. I have no idea what it is like to be a male survivor of sexual abuse; what I hear does not resonate with me. For me gender was violently enforced until it wasn’t anymore and I could be who I was except that over the course of one’s lifetime the possibility to be any particular of the ones you thought you would be narrow until maybe you are just you because none of the recognized options fit. It was not clear to me until relatively recently that being a nonbinary-gendered survivor of sexual abuse would be akin to being not a unicorn but more like a.. will there is no word for that either it turns out.
no man’s land. no woman’s land.
land? do you see a place to land?
the map says land here. why do I not see any.
Everyone on my mom’s side of the family has experienced some form of abuse or another–the majority of it sexual. For at least five generations that I know of. Everyone knows but nobody has a clue what to do that won’t upset any of the adults which is apparently the greatest sin there is. The children will be ok. They have to be. We all are ok aren’t we. Didn’t we turn out alright.
Speaking up is a little like talking to earless creatures who stare at you there disrupting the peace so discourteously. It’s not like you are telling us anything new. Can’t we just put it all behind us. We are tired. We did our best. Let it go.
It won’t let me go. Everything you forget I have to remember. The panic you swallow swallows me.
Every drop of denial you squeeze out of your life explodes behind my eyes at the temples the headache almost older than I am now.
I am 53. I was not planning on living this long. My body is starting to need attention in the way bodies will when they spend half a century resisting gravity and friction and oxidation and all the other agents of entropy that will soon catch up with us. I wish I knew what to do. I mean I have a doctor but I am disabled by what is called by some Complex PTSD and the number of symptoms has become bewildering and more than I can even keep up with trying to make appointments for.
And the stories. I dream them, I sing them, I write them, I eat them and drink them for breakfast and lunch by dinner I cannot get any more down so I dream some more and start over.
I am just going to leave this here.
First of all- Erik, is it? You are a beautiful writer, Erik. I think it does matter when you tell your story. Every time. You only need read the comments on this thread to know that is true. There are some aspects of your story that really resonated with me. I will be thinking about it all day. Thank you for entrusting me with your story. I read every word. I am writing your name down.
thank you for letting me know you read it. I will keep writing it–and all the others–as long as I can type or dictate or manage whatever other medium might shake out of the digital revolution. writing with a pen is painful now. physically I mean.
I am feeling especially ‘unread’ this week. it will pass but my god I thought I had endured most of the pain already.
thanks again. I do appreciate your response and I also am.. glad? glad doesn’t seem quite the right word but I feel vindicated for myself and for them whenever anyone else gets to tell their story. we will be heard.
eventually. I mean eventually we will be heard as critical enough of a mass that something in this culture will change.
right?
that’s the plan, Erik. That’s the plan.
I sobbed when I read this and I’m sending it on. You are wonderful strong women. Brave women. Thank you for sharing. And to the officer thank you for listening.
I was so alone for so many years; perhaps I still am. And somehow it never feels ‘right’ to share my story. I survived, I thrived, and I moved forward. . . .but I will never forget.
I am so happy for you that someone wrote it down; the officer’s soul is so precious.
My perpetrator was my best friend’s father; the family had wanted to take me in as a foster child, but somehow I found my voice and said no. The funny thing is that almost no one asked why. . . except for his wife, but she didn’t really want to know the answer and I didn’t have the words at the time.
I do now and I have chosen to work with young people in order to make sure that their voices are heard.
Thank you for sharing.
With blessings and light,
Chava
506 comments. On a blog that from what I can tell with just a quick look usually has <50. Something is happening here. Something beautiful. The courage of one woman to share an intimate and beautifully healing story has unlocked so many others… given others the courage to write it down… step out into the light… and given us the space to be heard. 506 comments. I've read them all. Every. Single. One. And I will keep reading. Because these stories matter. They need to be heard. And, contrary to what I would believe if I weren't living it, it hasn't been depressing. Oh yes, my heart has broken at your stories. But it's also stood back in amazement at what's happening here. All those stories… finding a place to be heard and cared for. Because of one woman sharing hers. It urges me forward… into territory I didn't think I would ever venture into.
It's been fairly easy to tell people "I was molested." I've even used it to help and encourage others. But to admit what led to it? And what it led me to? No…. you don't get to hear that…. because that's where I struggle with my part. I've fought hard over the past two years of therapy to believe with my heart, not just my head, that just because a 6-7 year old girl crushes on someone she adores with a childlike innocence and unwavering trust doesn't mean she was wrong… that the world won't look at me and think *I* was twisted for crushing on an older relative. And I've sat in horror with the thought that someone might find out about some of the things I did later… because of his abuse. My husband knows. My psychologist knows. But now… now reading these stories… I'm beginning to believe that a lot more people need to know. Because if my story can bring one more story out into the light… then I need to proclaim it — loudly. There's some ground work to do first… there are people who can not and should not find out from a public proclamation. But I can't help but believe the time is coming — soon — for me to step out into the light with ALL of my story. Not just the bits I've wanted to be seen.
Thank you for that, Laura — for the push… for the courage… where even just a few days ago the thought of someone finding out parts of my story would have been mortifying… now it seems freeing… because I want to be that light that you have been… I want to be the safe place for other stories to find their voice. I want to… WRITE IT DOWN. Thank you for that.
YES, Jennifer. YES. I just finished working my way through all the comments here and on Momastery and Jen Hatmaker- and there are a few other sites I need to check out where I have heard the response was pretty strong. It was been a LOT to process- but I have read every single story. I think my job is twofold here. I am supposed to bear witness, and then I am supposed to DO something with this. I am not 100% sure what that will look like, but it is slowly coming into focus. I haven’t been able to write since I first put the post up- but I’ve been able to read. Today was the first day I felt like I wanted to say something, so I’m going to start a new post when I finish this comment. Up on Friday. Thank you for helping me to bear witness. xo
Now you wrote it down. Awesome. Intense. Power to you!
Reblogged this on West Coast Review.
That was such a strong, emotional read. Everyone should read this. You, my dear, are incredible.
Reblogged this on katelynsierrasteinman.
Reblogged this on Words of Wisdom between the Screens and commented:
So inspirational !
It was beautiful to read how these two women banded together like this. I hope that one day you guys can dance on his grave.
Oh, we will. Write it down, lock it up, take it to the bank.
Very powerful!
What an amazing and brave step to take xx inspiring and may you inspire others to come forward too
Stay winning!!!
Reblogged this on Truquitos de Belleza.
Reblogged this on Londent.
“Like” seems an inappropriate response to such a powerful piece. I hope you, Aimee and Mary find the peace you deserve.
I almost found myself crying while reading your story. What happened to you should never have happened. You and your family have my best wishes and I hope the future is full of brightness for all of you.
Reblogged this on slegogurl's Blog.
Reblogged this on AuthenticallyAdrien and commented:
You are brave and I’m so happy that you got a little bit of salvation.
Congrats of being Freshly Pressed, Freshly Liberated, and for the officer writing it down!
My mom’s dad did this to her. I wish she would report him as he is still alive. Sometimes I want to do it for her but I think it would upset her very much. I’d rather respect her feelings about it.
we do what we can do when we can do it. I am so terribly sorry that happened to her. xo
So proud of your brave steps and of the officers compassion.
You are so incredibly brave and strong.
“I have no words, just tears,” you must have said…
35 years later, “I have no tears, just words,” you should say.
Respect ! your thoughts and words are so powerful ! you are truly an inspiration <3
Reblogged this on where we are and commented:
Love is giving someone your full attention and really listening to what is being said. And we all could use more love.
This story is beautiful and represents the greatest strength and the greatest love (from a stranger).
Reblogged this on kerryreimer.
I have a three year old grandson. We do ice cream once a week. No matter what the flavour (last week it was lemon) he will look anxiously at me and remind me that I need to add the sprinkles. My dear, that should be the relationship between grandparents and grandchildren. I’m really sorry for you and your cousin. Hope that you will be healed soon. 🙂 🙂 lots of smiley faces.
I am so incredibly fortunate to say that I absolutely know that. My maternal grandmother was one of the great loves of my life- she loved me deeply and unconditionally. I am so glad your grandson has that in you. What a lucky boy. xo
Powerful. Thank you for chronicling this.
Reblogged this on Akinolamide's Blog.
You give me hope… For my 12 horrific years.
there is always hope, friend. I don’t know what you went through, exactly, but if you need to tell your story privately you can email me at inotherswordsblog@gmail.com I will read it. I will believe you.
Agree.
Reblogged this on leyin96.
What you have done is an act of courage, bravery, and release. Thankful the officer took your story down and respected the fact that you needed to share that story, untold until now, with someone in a position of authority. Fortunately, my abusive mother never sexually molested me, but her emotional and verbal abuse, coupled with spankings with switches or daddy’s belt, were enough to diminish me into a nothing. I was 57 when she needed me to move her from an abusive nursing home where my brothers had left her. She was 2200 miles away from my home, and I couldn’t believe that this woman I didn’t like needed me to do something for her. But God sent me there, I brought her back to a nursing facility near me, and surprisingly over the next 10 months, without speaking of our past, we were able to forge a relationship of forgiveness. I’m writing our story now and whether or not I publish is still up in the air. But I tell you this … writing it down has been the most freeing experience of my life. I’m so glad you have told someone what happened to you, and I hope you feel free of your burden.
Sherrey, I am so glad you found your path to forgiveness, life is too short to carry around such dark and heavy things forever. Be well, sweet friend.
i think it’s extremely brave and gutsy to share what happened to you all. hope you’ll come out of it stronger 😀
Reblogged this on anubhavawasthi and commented:
Isnt she one of the bravest person you will ever meet?
Reblogged this on kristacraves.
So powerful!
I read it. Five times. I read this post five times. And while the entire thing is powerful, the one thing that has struck me as the single most powerful part of the entire post is this: After you and your cousin spoke out, finally, and after the officer wrote it down, he called you. He called you, after you and your cousin said that if anyone else came forward, that you wanted to meet them. That officer called you, and this fact sticks with me. Your and your cousin’s experience, while no doubt in my mind is traumatic, can also be used as a force for good. That officer called you, told you about a mother who needed to talk about her daughter. Not only did this new person to the tale have a kind, understanding officer of the law, but she also had you. Someone who has been in her daughter’s shoes, who knows what it is like, and can hopefully help, even if it’s no more than being there to hear HER story, too.
To me, you and your cousin are not only brave, but are a light in an otherwise darkened and shattered world. And I hope with all of my heart that even something as simple as sharing your story with the world here can help someone in similar circumstance. Can help them know that they are not alone.
THANK YOU.
Reblogged this on karrymi.
Wow! I’m so glad you had the courage and that Officer Paul took your experience seriously. The world is so different now; hopefully fewer and fewer will experience this level of betrayal and isolation. Peace and gratitude to you.
Needed to say that I know a lot of people in bad situations and none of them will probably ever talk about the entirety of it all, no matter how small the problem is, everything feels big anyways. It takes a lot of guts to share when no one even asked you to and it’s truly inspiring! Can I ask you why now tell all?
Because for the first time in my life, I feel no shame about it- not one ounce. Would I feel any shame if I was hit by a car? I had as much say in the matter. The reason this is such an epidemic, the reason so many people spend their whole lives cloaked in shame, hurting themselves or others, is that NO ONE TALKS ABOUT IT. Shame cannot survive light being shined on it. I’m just holding the flashlight. Thanks for asking.
Good answer.
Reblogged this on The Rantings of a Livid Lunatic..
Reblogged this on nancitajoy.
I have water in my eyes and it’s running everywhere. And, I’m in a restaurant. ?
I feel your story in my heart and I embrace that pain, confusion, fear and loss. When that voice is made audible, the healing begins and strength from your story mends the hole in your soul.
Keep letting go, “what to do with it” will come to you in time. And, it will come!
Reblogged this on افضل شركات الشحن فى مصر.
That is beautiful,a and powerful, and honourable. Taking the story and making it so that you get to help somebody. And who knows how many people you have helped by writing this. It may not be justice, but it is still something.
So sorry
Reblogged this on adgil2011.
Made me cry. So sorry this happened. I know about the experience of being abused. But, not that sort.
What you did was extremely courageous and brave. Much love and respect from Singapore. <3
You are both no doubt beautiful inside and out and brave!! What a wonderful story you share, thank you. Bless your journey!
Well done you brave courageous pair,let the healing begin
N
M
N
Das
COOL
Words do have the power to heal 🙂
they sure as hell do.
Reblogged this on lyfevoyage and commented:
Someone listened and cared. That’s all most ever really want. This was indeed dancing on his grave.
Wow. You are amazing to share your story.
My grandfather also raped me and my two sisters, repeatedly, and who knows who else, maybe my cousins. Reading your story has me bawling, realizing that even now, after so many years, how much it still hurts. I am 46, and have 3 daughters and 4 grandchildren, and I still keep wondering why no one protected us? We were children who did not want to ever visit Grandma and Grandpa. As an adult I still think it was so obvious, and that someone should have known and done something to protect us, yet the abuse only stopped when we started our periods. Unfortunately for me I was a late bloomer and did not have a period until I was 16, but I lied hoping it would not be found out and at the age of 12 had told everyone I had started my period.
Thank you for sharing your story. I’m sorry any child has had to endure such pain and betrayal and fear and do so in silence. Not knowing what to do or who to tell and would anyone even believe it was true. I hope you hearts heal. The memories will always be there, the physical pain went away long ago, but the flash backs are sickening. I will continue to pray for all of us, known and unknown.
I am so sorry this happened to you. Did you ever tell anyone? And whether you did or not, have you gotten some help dealing with it?
Thank you. My sisters and I talked about it a lot when we were younger. We were in high school when my grandfather had a stroke. We went to visit him in the hospital together. He was on a breathing machine and unable to open his eyes, or communicate, but he was in there. We told him that we felt sorry for him, because we knew that God will punish him for what he had done to us. When he died we helped my Grandmother toss his ashes into the Gulf, and on that day swore that we would not let that disgusting man take one more thing from us, especially our happiness. But we never told anyone else, except my husband. My grandmother had suffered strokes, and although I felt she knew, she did not remember late in life. It was hard to help her in her daily life, because of the angst. Sigh…my family is riddled with dependencies and depression. My father killed himself when I was three. I remember so much, but I always knew someone else had it worse. I have been through so much therapy, that it now becomes a challenge to see which of us will know the most about the other faster…me or the doc.
I applaud your honesty and bravery. There is power in words. Thank you for sharing.
I think both of you have been really brave by going to the police and telling the whole story. Of course, it’s late but at least you got it off your chest. I don’t think dancing on his grave would be a good option though. Anyways, you both are very brave and so much respect to officer Paul too, for taking such reports serious!
Then you should definitely not dance on his grave, friend. I will.
Thanks for sharing. The silent pain you and Mary must have carried. There is HOPE for people who still suffer. I AM encouraged. The bravery… The wings of hope from your post. Courage to face an ugly truth.
And Aimee. My sister Aimee, too.
And Aimee… Forgive me. Between tears and my own memory. I forgot Aimee.
it’s okay- I get it. But I can’t. xo
? thx for understanding.
Reblogged this on sunsetrise37.
well done for being so brave. it must have taken great courage
Something will b done for every one will confess theyre sins befor God on judgement day ! I prayfor you girls many blessings an am so honored to have read your story ! Thank you for shareing
I’m sorry you had to go through this. It is awful, but it takes incredibly strong women to face it like you did, even if it was years later. You should be very proud of that.
This collective narrative of vulnerability and bravery is the most beautiful kind of community; each comment reads as a promise to stand witness.
So much love to you today and always. You are a powerful writer, and a strong and beautiful person. Thank you so much for sharing here. I am deeply honored to bear you witness. I want to offer my love and connection in the face of a crime that has probably made you feel isolated and apart for a very long time. I hear you. I honor you. And though you do not know me, I stand with you and your wonderful cousin.
thank you, Kate.
I am so happy that all of you were able to make steps to move past this. And so sad that no one could stand up for you when they should have. You are so strong.
It makes me want to cry?
Wow!
Wow! you both had guts. and that’s really cool and brave. i salute.
Goshh am speechless. You are so brave. You, your cousin, Aimee, mama and her daughter. Also so happy hear there still nice person like Paul. Proud to all of you.
Amazing. I love the way you write but I am so PROUD of you ladies for acknowledging the pain, that something had to be done, and then being brave enough to do it
Kudos to your bravery! Thank you for sharing your story. May you and your cousin find peace in your hearts now.
How very courageous of y’all! !!! Thanks for sharing.
What an amazing post. You and your cousin should be so proud that you were able to actually talk about it. ‘The wounds are still open’ really stuck with me. Don’t ever forget how brave you both were.
Wow
You are so very strong and brave. Praying for you 3 to heal
Thank you for sharing! Wonderfully written! You are brave and inspiring!
I cried, i havs two little girls and I can’t imagine a grandfather breaking such trusting little hearts. I’m so very sorry.
That was so courageous of you both. Your not alone. I myself was raped and molested by my father and its a hard burden to carry so don`t feel regretful for not reporting it. *This inspires me.
My heart cries for what you endured. See my comments below and I dedicate the 2nd verse & bridge to you (which I wrote and sang): http://youtu.be/4ueg0G_wsB0
That’s beautiful, Tremayne- thank you for sharing it with me.
Reblogged this on theheartslove and commented:
Life.
I’m thinking a “Lifetime” movie. Not because of it would make a great “Lifetime” movie, but because it is a story that should be told. Too many people, especially family members, would say, “Just let it go. He’d dead. There’s nothing that can be done now.” But they are wrong, and you’ve proven it.
Your are heroes!
Reblogged this on The Delete Key and commented:
In the constant search for characters and topics for a novel/play/screenplay…truth is ALWAYS stranger than fiction.
Thank you for sharing!
Powerful. Your story and both of you.
I love this blog.. ♡ visit mine; https://diollester.wordpress.com/
Love this post! Well done, you and Paul.
Wow. I’m really at a loss for words. I have two little sisters- ages 11 and 12- and I can’t imagine what I’d do if I learned that someone abused them. I think I’d lose my mind. You are so strong. Thank you for sharing your story.
You are an amazing person to be able to tell a story like this.
Wo
You are an amazing person to be able to tell a story like this.
Wo
you are brave – so very very brave
Reblogged this on trambnb.
So glad that you were able to have a little closure.
Thank you for sharing. So moving. Thank god abuse is at least somewhat coming out now. I write on physical abuse in my fiction on my site. I think sexual would have been worse, but any kind is so damaging. http://lilypupslife.wordpress.com/
“He wrote it down.”
That is powerful isn’t it? That validation that it was real, that your feelings are valid, that your mind isn’t just playing tricks on you, that you aren’t crazy.
Just that simple thing really helps the healing begin.
נםנםנםנ
Both you and your cousin are such incredibly strong women. You deserve to finally have peace and this opportunity to seal those wounds. We need more people like Officer Paul in the world. People who are willing to help and make a difference in the lives of, basically, strangers. This made my day 🙂
I don’t know you, but I’m so proud of you. Take good care.
Do you know where is Korwin?
not sure what that means
To win kor.
Reblogged this on beautifulstrongtree and commented:
This blog was so raw and powerful. I felt very inspired reading this today.
I finished reading this three minutes ago and i am still crying, for your trauma, your bravery, the kindness of that officer to recognize the gravity of the situation and for the lightness that must have come from speaking your truth and being heard. Thank you for your words. You have likely touched many souls with your journey.
Brave and beautiful. You can take on the world! I see so much strength in your words. xxx
Sharing this will undoubtedly help so many people. This story will touch so many hearts. Thank you for sharing.
I am currently going through this with my niece. I have so many questions for you! Do you have any contact info? This was beautiful! We recently found out on Saturday about my niece…and the family member that did it admitted it. I am SO worried about my baby niece!
you can email me at inotherswordsblog@gmail.com I would be happy to help in absolutely any way that I can. I will be praying for her and everyone who loves her.
If I could jump in here. Might I suggest you contact a local victim witness office to report child sexual abuse? Also I strongly suggest you gather as much support for your niece as possible. Family courts can sometimes be less than satisfactory in prosecution but with numbers, comes accountability. I know it’s hard for victims because of shame but if at all possible, the more support, the greater the satisfaction. Honest.
We are going through this right now. We went to a local non profit on Monday. Its all very heart breaking. I am curious as to how this is going to be handled by the law. If you have any information please help. My nephew has admitted to doing it several times.
Answering your implied question below. A lot will depend on where you are. In the US, if the victim is a minor, for most professionals there are mandatory reporting laws – so if you talk to them they must report the abuse to the authorities. You can ask people ahead of time what constraints they are under.
My experiences are old and bitter, and I don’t pretend they are representative. My experience was that once authorities were involved, they were in charge and no one really cared all that much about what I thought about things (this was my point of view as a teenager, having been lied to about whether authorities were going to be told.) There were definitely people in the process who had my best interests at heart – later on, the guardian ad litem was pretty awesome – but the CPS workers were pretty awful, and they didn’t seem to get that forcing me to do what they wanted me to do was really inappropriate under the circumstances. (I am not without sympathy for the horrible conditions CPS workers work under, however I also know quite a few other people who have had ghastly experiences with them.) And if I, a angry and distrustful fifteen year old, coming out of an abusive family, didn’t agree to do everything they said (and really, would you expect a fifteen year old in those circumstances to be immediately cooperative?) they turned on me.
So… tread cautiously. Beware of professionals who speak in generalities and claim to know everything about what everyone thinks and feels. Trust your gut if someone is pushing for something that doesn’t seem right. Do your own research. Seek legal counsel.
Sadly, I kind of want to underline that last. You absolutely should get your niece the help she needs (and that’s something else to be looked into carefully, because she really doesn’t need to be seeing someone who has their own axe to grind.) But you should also be aware that there’s at least a chance that your family is opening a bit of a pandora’s box. A little preparation might save you a lot of trouble down the road.
I’m sorry but what do you mean about opening pandoras box?
Just that because this starts legal and other official processes that have a bit of a life of their own, you can’t really predict what’s going to happen once you start. So it might be a bit like Pandora opening the box and all the crazy stuff coming piling out. You may be lucky, and be in an area where the officials are all pretty sane, and it will get dealt with well. But that’s not always the case, and this is where doing some research both about what mental health professionals and what legal counsel you consult might save you some grief down the road.
It’s never too late to let it out of your chest! Hope you can start to heal and if you need a dance partner, posted here! Judging by the rest of the comments, you got yourself a dancing crew!
I wish I could do this. But my monster is still alive. Started at age 13 till just before my 17th birthday. I ran away that day and never returned. You guys are so strong; amazingly strong. Thank you for sharing. ♡♡
I am so sorry that happened to you. You can do it whether he is alive or dead. You deserve to have your story heard.
Beautiful. <3
My goodness, I’d never could know the deep sadness both of you faced before but praise humbly for you courage and bravery to share this sad tale~ may both of you have anazing futures for being so strong, bravo girls, bravo!
Reblogged this on Queen-V and commented:
Ernest Hemig~
Reblogged this on Solid Chocolate Bunny.
We have to speak our truth, even if it falls on deaf ears.
I’m so glad you have each other.
And that officer did the two most powerful things in the world: He listened and believed.
Your honesty and bravery can (and will) move mountains.
I completely agree. For so much ugly in the world there will always be that one light to remind people that there IS still good…that light seems to be Officer Smith. 🙂
🙁
amazing!
Thank you! Through tears of rage and gratitude, thank you.
Self healing. Powerful!
Both of you should be so proud of the unbelievable courage you have for confronting that and sharing your story with the world. X
My beautiful cousin, who I’d not seen in 35 years, and I set out to dance on our grandfather’s grave
MAD CHILD – Devil’s Reject
or MONSTER
……..
Reblogged this on BURGER FIÇI.
Thank you for sharing!
It’s incredibly brave and inspiring of you! And good writing 🙂
Cheers
Ellen
I nearly cry but the agony you had experienced would probably stays in me forever. I’m glad you took that step. It maybe not on time but it’s never too late. Hugs to you all!
Thats simply amazing…Brave you are….. and at the same time a shame of his part…..he deserved a dance on his Grave 😀
Such courage to speak out and to post.
thank you very much
Can’t stop reading it. Here is to your healing, and Officer Paul … You Rock!
I feel like I should write something about it, because your story and you were so strong… but it’s hard to choose right words. So just keep being strong.
Reblogged this on thoughtsandfeelingsthatjumpoutatyou.
This was a great post. Not only did I write mine down, I also was on a show and shared my story.
Here’s the writeup: http://thecertainonesmagazine.com/my-testimony-is-why-i-write/
Here’s the interview: http://youtu.be/qkriuaui8to
It is a bitter sweet circumstance in my opinion. I love the bravery in this blog and the fact that no matter how many years later that the matter was still addressed. Some victims go their entire life with a dark secret. Thank you for sharing your story.
I am happy that the three of you spoke your truth, as I know it is the beginning of your healing journey. Bless you as you continue the journey forward.
Thank you so much for sharing.
Reblogged this on A Sawyer's Daughter and commented:
I haven’t reblogged anything for quite some time but this is just so danged powerful…
Wow! And I mean wow! I’ve heard about fathers and uncles and etc, etc. But grandfathers?!!!!!!!! That’s so awful. They’re supposed to be our guardian angels! When I started reading your story, I was wondering why anyone would dance on an old man’s grave. But now I understand. Sorry about your experience. And I admire your candor and braveness to share your story. We learn, everyday.
Incredibly powerful. It is the hardest thing to share that, I’m glad I did. It is so meaningful when you go to the authorities and they write it down. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for sharing.
You are so brave, i envy your courage Lisa… Thank you for sharing your story.
Well done! This comes up after reading your storie. Out in the open there is oxygen and space. And with oxygen and space comes the healing and the heaviness can dissolve into lightness. Well done. With writing it down there comes recognission. And when it is seen by you and others there comes a place for it. So you can move on and let it go. Because you face it. Well done. How brave! Well done.
Super 🙂 🙂
I had a wonderful surprise some years ago when I approached, via telephone, a cousin about my abuse. She said the most wonderful words to me that my abuser wasn’t the only pedophile in the family. So incredibly sad but true.
Reblogged this on The Eclectic Chick.
Thank you. We found out by accident. I wish we could have all just looked alike or had the same size feet instead of sharing this. We got to talk to him before he died. Some of us. I did. He seemed sorry but the scars are pretty deep and I’m not sure they will ever heal for all of us. For so long, I thought our family was so “Jerry Springer” because of this. I didn’t know of ANY one else who had a monster within their family that was preying on his relatives. It was good to find out we weren’t the only ones. But it’s been disturbing to find how many other families have this exact situation. I wish people had talked openly about this 40 or 50 years ago. Even longer. I think our silence was a haven for the abusers.
You are two powerful women, and he is a wonderful example of what a policeman should be. Thank you for your courage, for not only going in and telling someone, but for writing it down yourself. Good luck to you and your cousin on this journey. God bless you both, and Officer Smith.
yes, GOD BLESS OFFICER SMITH!
I am quite moved by the way this was written… I don’t honestly know what to say, but I felt like this needs total recognition.
thank you
She’s right, you deserve to be heard. You are strong, and you are beautiful!! And somewhere, there is someone who will give you that moment. And support and courage can always be found here. You’re not alone, sweet soul. You CAN do it. ❤️
Thank you so much for this.
you are welcome, Jessica.
thank you for sharing this…it brought tears to my eyes…you were so brave for doing this.
Great
Please read my article
https://peterparos.wordpress.com/2015/01/28/how-and-when-to-see-the-opportunity-by-peter-paros-surbakti/
What I found that adds power to your story is the fact that your Mother went to the station. THAT is a big support from your Mother. And he wrote it down. I can only imagine how many people was affected in your family.
No, my mother was not there. That was another victims mother.
Oh, I must have read it wrong. I stand corrected. I’ll read it again. My apologies.
no worries!
Woahhh! Check this out —>> http://t.co/PqJvcHnSTG
I almost never create remarks, however i did some searching and wound up here He wrote it
down. | In Others’ Words . And I actually do have a couple of questions for you if you tend not to mind.
Could it be simply me or does it look as if like some of the responses appear like they are written by
brain dead visitors? 😛 And, if you are posting at additional
online sites, I’d like to keep up with anything fresh
you have to post. Would you make a list of all of all your social pages like your twitter feed, Facebook page or linkedin profile?
You are the heroes! Very brave!
Very powerful indeed
Brave, heartbreaking. Thank you
Reblogged this on Letters To 505.
Vizyonumuz Sahip olduğu uzman kadrosu ve teknolojik altyapısıyla müşterilerine sunduğu kaliteli hizmeti daima yükselterek sektöründe öncü bir şirket olmak.
http://www.ceviritercumeankara.com/anasayfa
Amazing! Follow me please 🙂
Amazing ! Follow me please 🙂
I cried for you- for the children you were and the innocence stolen from you; for the teenagers and young women you became and the confusion that must have overwhelmed you at times; for the women you are today and the courage you mustered from deep inside you. May the wounds begin to heal and the scars eventually fade to the background of your life…
interesting
Reblogged this on yieldingtothewind.
Reblogged this on meribm and commented:
Non arrenderti mai, perché quando pensi che sia tutto finito,
è il momento in cui tutto ha inizio.
Jim Morrison
Follow for follow? ??
done! 🙂
Incredible, oh my god.
Thank you so much for sharing your story. You’re immense bravery is something truly special! All the best of luck to you going forward.
brave actions, brave and poignant writing. much love and light to you both.
Reblogged this on blogssaboutlife and commented:
This is a very touching story and I’m sorry this ever happened
Follow me please
This brought tears to my eyes…
Love to you both.
Excuse me for a moment while I collect my thoughts, and try to write them down in a way that is not as disrespectful as the anger this blogpost is inspiring.
The fact that you would post and discuss dancing on the grave of the dead is mind-numbing. Utterly disrespectful. The fact that you would bring charges about a man who is deceased is even worse, and the thought that you would actually have police reports copied and sent as Christmas cards is simply deplorable.
There is a standard for determining guilt in this country, and that is described as “beyond reasonable doubt.” The accused have a RIGHT to face their accusers. They have a right to due process, and a fair trial. Bringing these accounts up after his death avoids all of this; there is no one to defend him, no one to refute any claim that you make. You’ve effectively manufactured guilt outside of the process, and have used an anonymous group of people to support, and even substantiate your claims. In essence, he will never be found guilty.
…and the above isn’t even the worst of your actions.
Let’s be clear: I’m not saying or even trying to conjure thoughts that your allegations are anything less than the truth. I don’t know, I’m not in a position to say. They may be. It’s possible that you, and maybe others, were abused or raped, or anything else (good or bad) by this man some 35 years ago. Anything is possible. None of us were there, none of us know. None of us can say, “Yes, I was witness to the crime,” or “No, what she is saying did not happen.” None of us should be here to help perpetuate this sympathy wagon ride.
One thing is clear, by your own admission: You didn’t do anything about it when it mattered. You didn’t speak up, you didn’t report it; and as a result, its just as easy for an outsider to say that you were an accomplice to any actions that may or may not have taken place against other people. I’m sure that seems like a stretch to some, and I’m well aware of the psychological effects that abuse can leave behind, especially when perpetuated against minors and even family members. I’ve no doubt that you don’t like that thought; much less someone else actually saying it, but you know, failure to act while a crime is being committed does in fact, make you an accessory to that crime.
And let’s be clear about something else: IF you were abused, in any way, including rape, then I’m truly sorry that you had to endure that. I hope you got counseling, and went through the process of being able to come to a point where you could compartmentalize it, and not let it cloud the rest of your life, relationships, and future. As someone who worked with children who were victims of abuse (and some of the most egregious things you could possibly imagine) I know the effects that can be left in the wake. I’m not trying to minimize the strength and courage that it takes to walk through that valley. I’m not trying to say that it’s easy. It is, however, absolutely necessary for your own health and well being.
I’m trying to be understanding, but don’t view it as empathy, because its not. The fact of the matter is that you didn’t care enough to do anything then, and I wonder what makes you think that we should care now. This is, after all, the internet.
Actually, my sister, my cousin and I did speak up. No, it was not reported to the police, but we were little girls and that aspect of it was hardly our responsibility. The fact that you do not understand our reaction or the way we chose to deal with it is fair enough- I try never to decide how someone should react to, or survive a situation I’ve not faced. I am sure that when you were working with victims of abuse you were able to suspend your judgment in how they dealt with the wreckage thrust upon them, at least that is my hope. Be well.
You are very gracious! Good form!
What. Vile. Bullshit.
Yes, there are standards for guilt in this country. They apply in a court of law. Do you see a court? Do you see a judge about to dig up a corpse and pass some kind of sentence? I sure don’t.
What I see is someone writing about what happened to them. And talking about it with other people.
If you’re going to talk about standards in this country, there’s also something called free speech. We might not be in a position to know what happened (though, as it happens, I believe the authors) but they absolutely do. And they have every right to write about their own lived experience.
Are you really suggesting that because no one would listen to them when they were little kids, that because the adults in their lives failed to protect them that they have some kid of obligation to not speak anything of the abuse they endured now? Seriously?
That they should keep silent in respect for their dead abuser?
Interesting values there.
Yes. This.
My advice to survivors is is written in a poem: TRUTH by Denise Jackson (C) 2008
TRUTH
Hide! Hide!
Hide hissed his frantic voice
and so I hid as a child without choice
Where should I hide to make myself lesser
not under the bed nor beside the dresser.
Scrambling like a frightened spider
I tried to hide as her eyes opened wider
I crawled across the cold tiled floor
wishing to hide behind the bedroom door.
My mother screamed in anguished pain
to see the bed where her child had lain
I hid behind the half closed door with no place to run
from all the things which had been done.
My father cursed the hallway light
as it shined upon my body white
silhouette of child defined
fractured heart and soul and mind.
In all the years to slowly follow
a single light shined to brighten the hollow
as my inner child cried for a place
to sooth my sorrow, to find God’s grace.
The time has come and my message told
to fractured children, both young and old
to speak forth those terrors of night
to bring our truths into life’s bright light.
We shall rid our minds of the pain within
write it, scream it, cry it again
speak it, shake it, sing it out
empty our anger as the devils shout!
Our freedom from pain will come at a cost
and the devil shall pay for the joy we have lost
a light still shines in the darkest of times
as God heals our pain from these insidious crimes.
We shall rid our minds of the pain within
write it, scream it, cry it again
speak it, shake it, sing it out
empty our anger as the devils shout!
That is powerful. Thank you for sharing it here.
Are you freaking kidding me?! First of all, I have no doubt that the writer of this blog went through what she says she did, and I do not need a judge and jury for that — nor does she. The fact that you land on her with both feet for stating what happened to her is beyond appalling.
I am, however, strongly disinclined to believe someone who SAYS they “worked with children who were victims of abuse” but could then spew this kind of garbage, which clearly shows NO understanding of the dynamics of child sexual abuse. I cannot fathom where your load of anger is coming from, and it’s totally inappropriate to dump it here.
I would say more, but I am trying to stop shaking and don’t want to sink to your level. I will simply say that you chose an exceedingly apt user name.
“I am, however, strongly disinclined to believe someone who SAYS they “worked with children who were victims of abuse” but could then spew this kind of garbage…”
I’m not, particularly.
There are some wonderful, talented people working with abused children. But here’s the thing. Most of the public agencies offer ridiculous, unmanageable caseloads, little oversight, and low pay. It’s not what you’d call a competitive position. I’m not saying they aren’t getting the best – but they’re also getting whoever they can get, most of whom aren’t anything like the best. A lot of people go in, and burn out. Some people are just amazing. A lot of people are on a mission – and some of those missions are questionable at best. (And, frankly, a lot of folks, working in those conditions, end up a little loopy. And seriously, we’re setting them up to fail.)
As I’ve written elsewhere, when I tried to deal with my own abuse, in my teens, the CPS workers on my case were horrible, and really made the situation worse. Other people were great. It was a mixed bag. (And then there was our father, who filed professional complaints against every single person who had anything to do with our family, including his own lawyers. The lawyers, of course, could deal with it, but it was a somewhat bigger deal for some of the others.)
That all being said, I wouldn’t be surprised if it weren’t true, or only true on a technicality. (Y’know, how volunteering to help out with Sunday school becomes working with victims of abuse.) It certainly has that whole suprious appeal to authority thing going for it… and I have some trouble with the idea of anyone with actual mental health training using the kinds of silencing arguments that were used here. As an aside, the whole using “innocent until proven guilty” as a way of trying to silence people’s writing just annoying the crap out of me. So many kinds of fail. Shall I count the ways?
And of course, keeping silent about abuse is exactly what we should be doing. (Heavy sarcasm.)
This comment makes me feel ill … and they “work with children who are victims” ….this also makes me feel sad … no wonder so many of us are afraid to report our abuse… and as to being an accessory to a crime when it is committed against you, because you couldn’t/didn’t report it as a child!!!… I hope you are really helping those children, not just trivializing their pain. And its never a matter of not caring enough to do anything then, its fear, threats of violence and control that often stops it being reported. Abuser are manipulative on many levels… And maybe there’s more going on here than you care to admit, its seems almost like you are also in pain, maybe not the same but something to make you respond this way … was there something that you didn’t get to deal with before someone passed away?
Exactly, mouse. Exactly.
CognitiveDistortion huh?! Hmmmmmmmmm….
Let me share some VALID information with you, if I may.
There are many reasons children do NOT report their abuse to others.
In chapter 29 of the book Grace in the Shadows, the author writes:
Complex Secrecy
Why Children Don’t Tell
The reasons children don’t disclose their abusive experiences are complex. Whether the abuse happens once or is repeated over a period of years, there are many reasons a child keeps the secret of molestation. The victims of sexual abuse can be either emotionally coerced or simply outwitted by the perpetrator. Sometimes children are physically forced, or overpowered by someone older or larger than they are. Studies have found that younger children are frequently abused by youth not much older than the victims themselves.
• Young victims may not recognize their victimization as sexual abuse. (Gilbert, 1988)
• Victims may have the feeling that “something is wrong with me,” and that the abuse is their fault. (Johnson, 1987; Tsai & Wagner, 1978)
• Among victims of sexual abuse, the inability to trust is pronounced, which also contributes to secrecy and non-disclosure. (Courtis & Watts, 1982)
Since child offenders are usually beguiling, many children are seduced with promises, sweet talk, or acts of kindness and gifts. This makes young victims even more confused because the abuser is ‘being so nice’. No matter when, how, or where the offense occurs, predators dominate their victims with the use of their intellectual, political, or authoritative power.
This power can be merely perceived, presumed, inferred, or imagined by the child. Whether the power is simply imagined or very real, it is still an abuse of power when used to seduce a child. Pedophilia is practiced as a form of gaining power or control through sexual acts and the debasement of children. The abuser becomes more powerful and masterful, while the child’s psyche shrinks and their personhood becomes diminished.
How sexual abuse occurs is difficult to explain to someone who hasn’t experienced it first hand. As survivors, sharing our experience makes us vulnerable. Vulnerability is threatening. People frequently wonder why children don’t tell. Telling requires another level of vulnerability and trust, which is difficult to muster up for a child whose misplaced and fragile trust has already been broken.
Children are famously loyal to those they love and trust. They keep the secret to protect the persons they love, at great detriment to themselves. Periodically the abuser will threaten suicide if the child tells, so the child begins to protect the aggressor!
Sometimes, in the case of incest, the brainwashed child keeps the secret for the sake of the other family members. They are often threatened with, “You don’t want to get your mother upset do you? She will be mad at you and send you away,” or “Mommy will make me go to jail with the police.” Perhaps the abuser will say that the family would be broken up and they would take all the children away. Now the lack of trust is exacerbated and the child is afraid of the mother, the police, and the father. The inducement of fear is a powerful tool, commonly used in cases of incest.
At times, children keep the secret because they believe they are bad and begin to believe that they deserve the abuse. Psychologically, a large percentage of sexually abused children with poor self-esteem issues inadvertently set themselves up for victimization in cyclical abusive situations. They perpetuate their own abuse by choosing risky behaviors that may further render them helpless, such as using drugs and alcohol. This further increases their vulnerability, guilt, and shame.
Often, children keep the secret because they are afraid of retribution by the abuser. If the experience is physically painful, children are afraid of causing themselves more pain. Sometimes children tolerate the pain thinking that if the abuser is hurting them, it will prevent the offender from harming their siblings. Children commonly keep the abuse secret, hoping that it will never happen again.
There are times when the abuse is so severe a child will completely disassociate from the reality of the situation. In these cases, a child may emotionally detach from the abuse as it occurs, by going somewhere ‘in their own head’. They may create safe havens by habitually disappearing from the room when the offender enters, or simply not acknowledging the person’s presence at all, if they are required to stay. Often a child will simply look as if they are in another world, as indeed they do not interact with the situation or persons around them. This type of protective response can become a way of psychological survival for some victims.
Sometimes the victimized child is discredited, because the person they are confiding to may have an emotional commitment to the perpetrator, which precludes accepting the child’s disclosure as valid. Often children are told that they misunderstood the adult’s intentions; worse yet, some children are blamed and placed at fault by the adult confidant. If this happens, the child will resist telling another adult because of the humiliation and lack of support or protection. The ability to trust becomes mired in the muddy emotions stirred up by the abuser.
Some children are made to feel ‘special’ and that they are receiving this treatment as a reward. Often children will be rewarded (bribed) with something pleasurable for tolerating or participating in sexual acts. The child’s sense of right and wrong become compromised because of the contradiction of doing something they suspect is wrong, yet gives pleasure to another. In essence, the child’s values become distorted and their private experience of morality is inconsistent with what they have been taught.
The ability for these children to develop sincere and healthy relationships is reduced to one where performance and self-sacrifice become equated to love. Bribes and special gifts become accepted as tangible expressions of love, the antithesis of a nurturing love.
(Shared with the permission of the author, me. Denise Jackson (c) 2008
The book is available by contacting: dj i write
Where? at comcast . net
I truely wonder, where you got your training for “working with children.” I have an opinion about what should happen to agencies that hire people with the lack of skills and compassion you displayed in your response to the three girls who were fortunate enough to have the guts to tell it like it was.
Brava!
You both have such strength that comes from within, no one took that strength from you! Go ladies!
You guys are so brave, and isn’t it wonderful that all it takes is for someone to listen and believe? Very inspiring.
An intriguing discussion is worth comment. I believe that you ought
to publish more aboujt this sybject matter, it may not be a taboo subject but usually folks don’t speak about these subjects.
To the next! All the best!!
Congrats! 😉 Great blog
Reblogged this on rosalopezm46203.
Good on you girls for being brave enough to finally be heard…forgive, but never forget….stay strong….. love & light to you both ~!~
Not much to say… Tears and blessings to you and your cousin and any others who find the strength to come forward. Thank you for sharing this <3
Hi there, I enjoy reading through your article post.
I wanted to write a litte comment tto support you.
Thank you!
Very sorry this happened to you both, and that it happens to anyone, anywhere. Yes, report, report, report, even now. And from now on, teach your children why it’s important, and encourage an environment where they’ll feel safe speaking up. It’s the one way to attempt to minimize abuse, even if we can’t stop it altogether. Maybe we can eventually?
that’s the hope.
Everyone who knows, loves or cares about children shares the responsibility to report suspected abuse. Try these contacts:
Childhelp USA
1-800-422-4453
http://www.childhelp.org
24 Hr. Crises Counseling: Confidential Hotline for U.S., Territories and Canada.
Communicate in 140 Languages
National Center for Missing & Exploited Children
1-800-843-5678 In USA: 24 Hr. Hotline…
http://www.missingkids.com
http://www.missingkids.com/international
001-800-843-5678 From Mexico emergencia de 24 horas
00-800-0843-5678 From Europe
1-800-826-7653 TDD Hotline
http://www.CyberTipline.com
Reblogged this on Reflections and commented:
The process of healing is an indescribable thing…
You are amazing. Thank you for sharing your story.
Do you mind if I quote a few of your posts as long as I provide credit
and sources back to your site? My website is in the exact same niche
as yours and my users would certainly benefit
from a lot of the information you present here. Please let me know if this okay with you.
Cheers!
That’s absolutely fine, as long as there is attribution. Thank you for asking.
I am glad you people spoke about it and found a closure
Power and courage, you girls have them! Bless you 🙂
My hands are shaking and it’s hard to type and I am in tears. I thank you for sharing this and what you did. I really thank the officer, who didn’t have to do anything, anything at all, and yet…he did, he enacted a process that was stolen from you and from me, and from many others like us. I had no idea that I needed this, and that I still need it and seek it out as things happen again and again, and no one listens and no one helps. Thank you again.
Oh my gosh, I accidentally wrote it down.
You did, Elisa- you wrote it down. If you need to tell your story privately, feel free to email me. I will read it. inotherswordsblog@gmail.com
Good for you!
Very touching story. Thank you for sharing.
Awesome!;)
Thank you for sharing. I have always wondered how or even IF talking would change things, especially with that person being gone. Your story brought tears to my eyes.
I believe it would, Jeanne. I really do.
Reblogged this on rainehuiyin.
Thanks for sharing this, it takes guts to write such personal posts. Sad to read about abuse and such pain..Life is unfair, i do hope you and Mary found some sort of closure and kudos to Officer Paul . Glad this was freshly pressed I am sure this would provide support to people who went through the same ordeal.
Amazing post… So much strength? thanks for sharing
Reblogged this on Nicole Spaner and commented:
This story shows strength, love and support on various levels. These women truly show what courage is and that it can never be taken away. The policeman in this story shows a man of love and support. This is a man that truly deserves his title of protection in a community where devastation has incurred.
Powerful! Much healing to you all.
Congratulations to you on your brave heart. I really feel for you. At the same time I find what you’ve done somehow cathartic. My abuser, a family friend (a grandfatherly type) will never answer for what he did. He’s long gone and yet I am left bearing the scars and thousands of dollars in therapy bills. Sending you love and light. Take courage … The healing begins.
Reblogged this on Konveksi tas 2015 and commented:
He wrote it down..
Reblogged this on College Girl Dai and commented:
An amazing and inspiring story.
It maybe decades late but as they say it is never too late to act on something that would make you feel at peace. Your courage is such an inspiration.
Because life is like that. You may not forget things so you fight but you move on. And then you talk about Adam Levine’s abs.
Yes, I think it goes- Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance, Adam Levine’s Abs. I’m almost certain that’s right. xoxo
That’s the trouble with not having kept my Psych classes updated. We never learned the sixth step of grief. Thank goodness for the internet.
Happy to be of service. 😉
Such a poignant narrative on the first important steps of reclaiming your lives. Raw, brave, and honest.
I think what you guys did was something really brave. Not only did you tell the whole story, bit you also asked to speak with any other victim. That’s so corageus of you! And Officer Paul was so sweet. I wish every guy in the force was as considerate as he was…
Wow
Brave girls.
Have a nice day Laura and don,t forget to visiting my blog http://www.lovewithpic.wordpress.com
Reblogged this on ocjarman and commented:
I would love to have guts to tell my story like they did.
Wow
Thank whatever higher power one subscribes to for Officer Paul, we need more people like him in the world.
It sounds to me like you went there seeking some kind of closure and instead found a sense of being free. I am glad you have people like Mary and Aimee that you can turn too and so happy you lucked on someone as wonderful as Officer Paul 🙂
Thank you. You are bringing light to the darkness. Eshet Chayil!
Bravo….hope you and your cousin never loose touch again….thank you for sharing the story.
we won’t. We’re making up for lost time. xo
Mkvalleshah.wordprwss.com
I’m still trying to tell myself to write it down. But it’s difficult. Life altering. Thank you for sharing this. I didn’t even know that I needed to read this today until I did. Keep pushing forward. Keep healing. It’s all any of us can do.
stay tuned for Tuesday’s post. I’ll be talking about that very thing. Hang on, friend. Both hands. xoxo
heart hurts, tears in eyes at work, blackness feels easier to deal with, but life is sweeter when you accept that you are not to blame.
I look forward to your next post. thank you. xoxo
Reblogged this on mdgoodluck.
Reblogged this on Mackenzie, Unscripted.
I know people that I could report and they are alive. How do you do this if you are afraid of them?
I think the best thing you can do is go to the police and ask that question. You can pose it as a hypothetical if you are more comfortable that way. Maybe ask if they have a Victims’ Advocate you could talk to. Anyone else have any specific knowledge on this front?
hi…as to specific knowledge…
1)it is important to state that I am not a mental health nor medical professional
2)also stated that I am not a legal professional
and 3)I can only share my experience strength and hope
I was wondering if the “how do you do this if you are afraid of them”, was a question of how to get the self to do the actual telling, as for many–they feel the need to gear up for it, no matter the validity or improved outcome, some persons feel the need for direction and permission that said direction has been met before feeling ‘allowed’ to do or to say or to feel anything.
Next, or at the same time, it would be important to know if ‘you’ are a minor or an adult, or a minor just turned to an adult in a school type authoritative situation where the only change has been your age everything else still the same. Active abuse vs abuse 20 years ago are entirely different things.
It might also change the matter of reporting and to whom once past the age thing, depending upon what geographic location one is in, laws statutes and carers/advocates differ from state to state, country to country.
I will say that ANY step you take to discuss it or take action upon it, even in here, is a step. I have found that there are no perfect steps that settle every thing in a life, as life isn’t like a tv show with a distinct start, distinct story , with a distinct end. I thank you for asking.
Also no medical/legal expertise here, but in our state, I’m almost sure you can report abuse anonymously. Actually, every adult in our state is legally required to report suspected abuse, but most of them don’t know it. I’m sorry that you are in this horrible position, but I admire you for even being able to consider how you might deal with this. Good for you.
As Laura suggested, you could probably call the police and talk in hypotheticals. If the victims (you and/or others) are minors, you could call Child Protective Services, sometimes called the Dept. of Children and Families or something similar, depending on where you live.
Googled “how do I report child sexual abuse?” and came across this site, Darkness Into Light. **I do not have any personal knowledge of the site** but I am almost certain someone else posted a link elsewhere on this blog, along with other pertinent ones, and quoted from a book she had authored about abuse.
Darkness Into Light says it is for Child Sexual Abuse, but the page with information about getting help says either children or adults can call. Here’s a link to that page, including what to expect when you call.
http://www.d2l.org/site/c.4dICIJOkGcISE/b.6069291/k.502C/National_Child_Sexual_Abuse_Helpline.htm
You could also Google “how do I report sexual abuse in (your city or state)?” and see where that leads. Best of luck to you.
http://www.d2l.org/site/c.4dICIJOkGcISE/b.6069291/k.502C/National_Child_Sexual_Abuse_Helpline.htm
Sorry, don’t know why the link showed up twice.
So powerful to hear that you were able to speak up about it!
I investigate (too many) reports of sexual assault at a small college. As a middle-aged man, I have often felt awkward asking the most personal questions of young (mostly female) students and wondered if I was somehow adding to their pain. I expect that I will continue to feel awkward–and this post has deepened my resolve to do this work with care, diligence, fairness, determination, and compassion. It has also reinforced my practice of writing down every single thing that is shared, even if I have to interrupt the conversation at times to be sure to get it all down. It had not occurred to me until now how much healing could come simply from me taking my notes.
Thank you.
Gary G.
would it be possible to have a woman work in tandem with you- even if it is just a volunteer? My cousin and I were able to speak freely and frankly with Officer Paul, but we are grown women decades removed from our abuse- I am not sure I could have done that as a young person recently assaulted.
In any case- Thank you for what you do. Thank you for taking it seriously. I hope reading this essay gives you some sense of how powerful it can be to have someone in authority treat your story with dignity and respect.
Thank you for writing it down.
I have wondered even when watching TV shows how a woman who has been assaulted by a man (most likely scenario) can be comfortable talking to a man about it. I think the idea of working with a woman could be very helpful, and the fact that you are doing your best to make the situation bearable and WRITING IT DOWN likely already means more than you know to the victims. Thank you for wanting to know how to do it better.
For some, having a woman present, either as an advocate or just a witness, has proven helpful–while in many cases someone making a report has preferred to speak one-on-one in order not to feel overwhelmed by how many people are present. The dynamics are vastly different for every victim/survivor. To the maximum extent possible I try to offer each person making a report as much control and as many options as possible for how the process unfolds. The environment is also important, including offering to get tea or coffee, having enough space so that I can leave enough distance between us for comfort and still be present, taking as much time as necessary to go at their pace. Using a cookie-cutter approach would ensure difficulties for many so each encounter must be treated as a unique event.
Thank you for your supportive words and suggestions.
Gary G.
That absolutely makes sense.
Reblogged this on observingeyesblog.
Wow, just wow!
I’m so glad you were heard. I’m so sorry you went through what you did. Thank you for sharing this powerful story.
Good for you.
Reblogged this on hashimhamdanek's Blog.
Incredible and strong. All of you.
This is VERY powerful. I am an Officer and reading your story is such a great reminder of why we do what we do. To help people. I am so happy you three made it to the station and reported the crime you were made to be a victim of. It happened. There is a record.
So many times we do not feel like we help people in this profession, like we are just the band-aid of society, but know you probably helped that Officer as much as he helped you that day.
God Bless you all.
Thank you for your service, Kristy. You make a difference. You do.
That was amazing and I thank you so much for sharing it. I am an advocate at a domestic and sexual violence program. In my position I work closely with law enforcement including providing them with training from time to time. Would you be willing to give permission for me to use this blog entry when I work with them? It shows much more clearly than I ever could, what it means for people to be listened to and believed. I know this is out there on the internet but I wouldn’t want to use your words without your permission.
absolutely. Thank you for asking, and thank you for the important work you do. xo
A great post https://roman853.wordpress.com
Reblogged this on nilpojapoti.
For reasons I cannot express at this time, I’m glad that I stumbled upon this post. Thank you for being brave enough to share it. So many keep silent…
I’m so glad you’re here.
I just wanted to let you know that since I read this post a couples weeks ago, I have written down some of my experience, and have acquired a counselor who I start seeing on Thursday. Thank you for your bravery, writing it down and sharing with those of us who haven’t found our voice. And thanks to Momastery too for leading us to you. I am looking foward (even though I am terrified) to making progress.
Oh, that makes me so happy. The scariest part is over, sweet friend. Deciding to tell your truth, and using your voice that first time- SO HARD. I am so proud of you, J. After this comes everything beautiful. And I thank God for Momastery every single day- no joke. xoxo
What a wonderfully brave post. That’s all I can say since all your commenters have said everything before me.
Also enjoyed seeing you and your cousin fitting into one big jacket together. 🙂
isn’t that funny? I didn’t realize it looked that way til after I posted it. Ah well- she’s pretty great. If I had to share a jacket with someone, it’d likely be her. 😉
I’m glad you saw the funny side of it too. Seriously good write and such powerful stuff. Enjoyed the lighthearted way you wrote about something so huge. And the compassion of the policeman is warming too.
Wow. To share such a story, that is what blogging is all about. Sharing so others can know they are not alone.
we are, none of us, alone. xo
Reblogged this on Crazy Cows.
Reblogged this on 1st February.
I would like to share this in April for Sexual Assault awareness month. I would also like to know how to contact the police officer. Thank you for sharing this.
Reblogged this on For the love of writing.
As a survivor and an officer I am happy to hear how this officer handled this situation. I work so hard to train young officers about how their response to abuse and sexual assault reports can mean so much to the victim. I try to teach them the truths about abuse and sexual assault and to dispell the myths. Even in a case like this one, one where no prosecution will happen. No justice will be served. There is so much that the officer can do. The officer can validate the victim. He or she can document what happened, which might help in later cases. The officer can be the beginning to the road to healing if he or she handles it correctly. Unfortunately, handled incorrectly, it could further traumatized the victim. I’m glad this officer was able to give you what he could,l; compassion, understanding, and kindness.
YES. Thank you so much for your service, Keisha.
Thank you for sharing your story with us. Very powerful.
Reblogged this on Trending On.
Reblogged this on marcojmossi.
After 840 comments, I’m not going to be saying anything original, I’m sure. I just thought your ability to focus on the encounters with the officer was remarkable as was his thoughtfulness and sensitive handling of the situation when one hears such stories of incompetence and insensitivity. How brave and powerful for you to have followed through.
You are SO strong. Beautiful, heart-wrenching, and uplifting all at once. THANK YOU!
This is very inspirational. Thank you for sharing.
Reblogging on nutsrok
Reblogged this on Nutsrok and commented:
Reblogged from In Others Words
Wow. That was amazing. When I confronted my family about sexual abuse that occurred in my childhood I found no allies among them. I’m so glad you have your cousin and your sister.
I’m so sorry that happened to you. When the abuse occurred, only my mother believed us. I know what that feels like.
In my family they weren’t disbelievers…. they all knew from the start. This was a fact that I didn’t realize when I started to talk about it. It was well known in the family, but never mentioned (at least not to the victims). It was the family secret, and I blew the lid off. You can imagine how happy they were with me! I consider it to be one of the best things I’ve accomplished in life.
yes- we had people who knew, too- though they claim not to believe us to this day. It’s despicable.
Reblogged this on New Pollyanna.
You both were very courageous to do that. I hope everyday going forward that much easier for the both of you.
That is such a heavy load to carry for so many years! I actually confronted my father and severed out relationship after he refused to deny that it was true. Nobody should have to live with that pain.
I am proud of you. ❤️
I am proud of you, too.
Thank you! ((Hugs))
Wow. Such a powerful piece. I love your writing style too, it’s so authentic. Thank you for putting some things in perspective for me.
Thank you for sharing your story.
Even if this never happened to you, it is a powerful message about how non-victims should respond to those who have been sexually assaulted or abused in any way. Be attentive, be compassionate, validate the victim, and do what you can to mitigate misconceptions about abuse. No one asks to be abused . . . No one makes up stories . . . No one is less valuable because they were a victim! Be a listener, be a voice!
Reblogged this on RUNHIGHDONTFALL.
I also was raped. I’ve never really talked about it because it wasn’t a violent rape or anything. He was my friends older brother and I need never told anyone. I can see what happened way back then affects me today. Thanks for posting your story, I believe our testimony is one of the most powerful things we have!
Kelly, all rapes- every single one- are acts of violence. Even if you were not physically injured, an act of violence was committed against your soul. I am so deeply sorry that happened to you. I agree with you about testimony- it is the path to healing, and it is a way for us to know that we are not alone. We are never alone. xo
Word. Respect.
This is marvellous. Stay strong.
Not my story exactly, but…my then 16 year old ‘baby’ brother (14 years younger, I helped raise him) molested my then 4 and 5 year old nephews. My sister decided not to press charges, so he just got mandated therapy and probation. She moved away. My mother knew, but hadn’t told until the kids spoke up and thinks that since he ‘said sorry’, that it’s not a big deal and it should be forgiven and forgotten. 90% certain she just ignores the terms of his parole frequently. Still can’t figure out how I feel about this, or him, or her. My feelings about my mother are conflicted anyway due to years of emotional and physical abuse I endured and denied to CPS so I could stay and protect my younger siblings. Family gatherings are awkward and uncomfortable because my mother often tries to force me to engage with him and I really don’t want to.
oh boy. I think people think they know what they would do in these situations, when the abuser is a scary stranger- but when it is someone that you love and want to protect, the waters get muddy. They shouldn’t, but they do. I will pray for your nephews, and for you Erin. xoxo
I’m sorry you’re in this difficult position, erin. Have you considered seeing a counselor to help you sort through some of this and get some ideas how to navigate it?
Reblogged this on breakfastcerealandcelestialbeings.
This is staggeringly powerful stuff. Good on you for having the courage to do this. X
I just popped over to check out your blog. Now I’m obsessed. And hungry. xo
Thank you ?
Powerful stuff. Brave girls. Touched a nerve.
Courage. That’s what it took. And the beautiful thing is that you were heard and that may help with the healing. Thank God for Officer Paul who wrote it down. Caring is at the very core of our humanity and it seems today we are seeing less of this. So when someone cares it helps the rest of us have hope. Thank you for bringing us hope in your deep trial. Blessings on you both (and Officer Paul).
Courage. That’s what it took. And the beautiful thing is that you were heard and that may help with the healing. Thank God for Officer Paul who wrote it down. Caring is at the very core of our humanity and it seems today we are seeing less of this. So when someone cares it helps the rest of us have hope. Thank you for bringing us hope in your deep trial. Blessings on you both (and Officer Paul).
GOD BLESS OFFICER PAUL.
Thank you. You have no idea what a gift you have given to me through your words. Because even now, after 40 years, everyone wants to pretend that it never happened. Because they don’t want to know. Because it’s easier not to know. Because they see us on the outside, looking happy, successful, doing great and they think “See? It was no big deal. She’s not damaged, she’s ok.” Because we have adapted. We have survived. We have become strong, self sufficient women who can take care of ourselves. Because we have to. Because we had to. Because no one else did. And we have done what we needed to do to survive, on our own. Because no one came to help us.
As it turns out, we are REALLY good at making everything this seem OK, all the time, every day.
But they can’t see our insides; sad, broken, distrusting, struggling, and just a little messed up when it comes to really being vulnerable and giving yourself to even your most trusted partner, in a physical capacity. How the concept of sexual intimacy as a loving act will probably never, ever really happen for us. It will always be tarnished, dirty, physical and manipulative not matter how hard we try, and no matter how much we love and trust our chosen partners.
Although I don’t know you, nor will likely ever meet you, there is a common engery that binds us and just to know that someone else out there understands is very powerful. Just so you know, I think I know exactly how you feel too. I may not be able to put it into beautiful words the way you do, as I don’t have that gift. But I can send that energy, strength, and grace out to you through the infinite universe. And I hope you can feel it, because it’s what we all need for healing and for hope.
Oh, Catherine. I am so sorry that happened to you. I completely relate to what you are saying about people thinking you’re okay because you’ve found a way to function and pretty things up from the outside. I did that for an awfully long time. That is EXHAUSTING, isn’t it?
I am so glad that what I wrote made you feel less alone. So many of us feel alone in the darkness and we’re not. I am so proud of you for surviving and SO glad you are here.
And this just in, friend- you’re a better writer than you think you are.
I cried reading this.. really powerful how validating someone listening to our pain can be–and I definitely understand wanting to dance on his grave. I was physically abused by my Mom [who’s still alive] and I’ve had some rather gruesome thoughts about her over the years.
Thanks for being brave enough to share.
This. This is so beautiful. Cheers to you for making the next best choice..one at a time. He wrote it down and I am so glad he did. It happened. So, so good.
sexual abuse, we never tell anyone etc. I think it’s one of the most damaging things that can happen to a person. I had it happen to me. I appreciate Papa God’s ways of healing. We each have our own journey. He led me to read four books by David Seaman and then “Healing The Mind of Memories that Bind” by Florence Littauer . It was a 5 year process of reading books, praying, church, counseling etc.. I can say today that I have forgiven all those that God brought to my attention that caused so much damage. Papa God has healed me. Jesus said, you will know the truth and the truth will set you free. It was in knowing the truth about what happened to me that started me on the path to freedom and healing. God bless you in your journey! He does heal and restore and make whole and set free and gives new beginnings.
I am glad that this worked for you. However, as one who was abused by clergy members and persons in the congregation…the words God and Jesus were used because I was told that I was a gift to share, that the being abused (though it was called something nice and fluffy) was my purpose in this life…what you say is only a trigger. Keep sharing it as it works for you. I only wrote because as I wrote it down I heard their voices, which are another part of my experience that I have never shared.
I am so incredibly sorry that happened to you, Elisa.
Elisa, I hope there is a special place in hell (whether in an afterlife or here on earth) for abusers of children who use the name of God while committing such vile acts. The idea that they tied the two together for you is making me feel sick to my stomach. I wish you all the best in finding the people and tools to work your way through this.
Writing it down helps to remove it from your head (darkness) and into reality (the light). Abusers bargain with the fact that their victims would be too ashamed to do anything…be silenced by fear and shame. By writing it down, a burden unloads and someone else helps carry it for you even if it’s for a little while to give you some relief and perspective. Perspective is key to moving forward!
You’ve proven your abuser wrong, even if it took 35 years. You’ve risen above and are no longer victims but awesome SURVIVORS. Telling your story gives courage and power to many others. You are amazing — Kudos to you both!
You have been. You have received. He wrote it down.
Reblogged this on Diariesofaloner's Blog.
Very powerful story. I’ve only recently recall being molested by my step-grandfather. The memories came in dreams, more like nightmares, in my mid-thirties. Once the truth was out, my life made more sense. I knew why I couldn’t sleep, why I slept with my arms and legs crossed, why I didn’t trust people, why I felt an incredible need to protect all around me, why I held my relationships at arm’s length and why, even when things were going great, I always felt this sense of sadness creeping in. Once I knew I made a choice to figure out a way turn the dark into light. I write and share my stories. I meditate and get and give holistic healing sessions. I read and listen to others experiences. I find anyway possible to connect because to disconnect means he wins. Thank you for sharing.
He doesn’t get to win. I’m so glad you have found your way through the pain and are taking such good care of yourself, Pamela. xo
My biggest regret is never saying anything because as a child I ‘knew’ it was my fault. I know ur sense of validation came late but I’m so glad it came. I hope he burns in hell.
I’m going to ask the adult you to please not blame the child you for thinking like a child. Abusers are smart. They are good at what they do. That thought was planted in your fertile child’s mind, where your abuser knew it would take root.
I am so sorry that happened to you. If you haven’t told your story, and need to, you can email it to me. I will read it. I will bear witness. I will honor what was lost. inotherswordsblog@gmail.com
Thank you for your offer, ur kindness brought me to tears. ‘That’ chapter of my life may not be anything compared to others but it’s mine n it left a mark on who I was. I told someone when I was 14, i was told to keep the peace n not start trouble in the family. That said, It’s the reason I became an educator and child advocate. I only just started my blog n yours was the first I read. Ur words touched my heart n caught me off guard. It takes courage to write about it, for all to read. I’m not ready to look to my past, everything I have goes into fighting for the present- but that’s a different story. Your a beautiful soul n it comes through in your writing, thank you for sharing!
we don’t need to compare stories- it isn’t the Hardship Olympics. Pain is pain is pain, loss is loss is loss. And I agree, while I would not wish what happened to me on anyone, I am who I am today in large part due to my childhood- and I quite like me. xo
Hardship Olympics? I didn’t mean it in that way. My point was that I was caught off guard by my response to ur post, it made me realize that it left its mark on me n even as an adult, parent n educator, it’s still there. I wasn’t prepared for that realization. I told the wrong person n I regret not telling anyone of authority in my family. The problem was n still is culturally, my community doesn’t talk about this n the victim is always blamed. It’s viewed as a stain on the good ol’ family name n I thought I had made my peace with it all, until I read this n ppls comments. I guess the question that comes to my mind is; as much as we grow n develop in spite of our experiences- does it ever stop hurting?
I didn’t say Hardship Olympics in judgment- just so we’re clear. I think we all do it- we look at people who we think have had something WORSE happen to them and think somehow that negates our own pain. That’s all. I can see where it would come off judgy or flippant.
I can’t speak for anyone other than myself, but I can say that for me, finally, it has stopped hurting. I can look back at what happened and feel sorrow and empathy for that little girl- but I am not her anymore. I am no longer IN IT. Does that make sense?
Thanks 4 the reply, makes sense on all counts ?
Wow that was tear jerking. I commend you all and think you are brave. Some hold it in for life and it holds them prisoners. Yous were brave to let it go to free yourself of the pain. Whether there is to be charges or Not isn’t the main purpose. To free yourself, to release that hurt that guilt was the purpose and I’m proud of you all. You may have helped so many others by telling your story, I know you touched me.
Reblogged this on wezzie1975313's Blog.
By telling on him you did dance on his grave in a special little way….
Just want to say, so brave…. much respect from here.
Wow what an moving story.
So brave. Thank you.
You touched my heart and I couldn’t help cry. Thank you for showing me courage again to be who we are not what some evil thing made us feel like. The courage to write our own story now finding our voice.
Yes. It’s all I can think to say. You have touched my heart with your pain and courage.
I couldn’t help but get emotional. You’re extremely brave for speaking up and sharing this story.
Amazing! You’re brave beyond measurs
How brave of you three, how loving of the officer, how motivational of a story. Thank you.
Reblogged this on Imperfect Writer: My Journey to Finding Myself.
Reblogged this on Insight of the Average College Student.
Reblogged this on Logans Views.
I am not sure if I should say that I am for your loss, or should say that you did the right thing by reporting him….
All I know is, no one deserves to go through what you had to witness. I am sorry that it happened. Hopefully you’re feeling better after doing this.
Good luck.
With a tear in my eye, and a slight Smile of relief, I say, “You wrote it down, too.” what happen is not true, and the world knows the truth. ” May you find the truth setting you free. May you continue let go of that pined up baggage you carried all these years.” am happy for you to finally find your peace.
You’re a beautiful writer; what courage you and your family have had throughout this ordeal and in sharing it with your readers. I find that sometimes it is much harder to choose to want to be happy than to allow the darkness to take over; you are truly an inspiration and (although being deeply sorry for what must have been a terribly painful, and extended, experience) am very glad I found your blog and had the opportunity to read your words. I’m very much looking forward to discovering more of your writing
Through my tears, I thank you for writing this.
Reblogged this on 365 Days of Normal and commented:
This is not my blog. I found it randomly. I can’t put in to words how deeply I am affected by it right now.
I usually refrain from commenting in all-caps, but I think this is the right moment to throw that caution to the wind: YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING HUMANS and as screwed up as all this is you put a smile on my face. Thank you for that.
Thank you for your courage, little by little the cycle of molestation will end. We just have to tell our stories and some day children, teenagers and women/men will not be sexually abused. Susan
Be Blessed – both of you. Peace.
Such courage. I believe this step will be healing in the long run. Speaking out is usually empowering.
And what a gem that police officer is as a witness. .to sit, listen & record your stories.
Beautiful.
To you Rebecca, and all others listed above. “USUALLY EMPOWERING” I believe it is always empowering. By speaking out you open a door in your heart. behind which is nothing but black, black darkness. Shame, guilt, self loathing, ect. ect., that someone else put there, and one carries with them in their deepest unspoken secret hurting spirit. The speaking out opens that door, and is the only thing that will open that door. LIGHT, blinding light floods that space, and healing, begins. God will make you whole, again free in spirit, you feel new. WHY _ WHY _ WHY we are the one’s chosen, though painfully, to save, if just one little boy or girl, and to crush the head of this snake. COURAGE, the future is OURS !
YES!
i hate to say this … but speaking out can be incredibly destructive and painfull. I spoke out to my family, who all the told my abuser that he was still loved by the family and when i asked if i was, no one answered. I hit a wall of silence, was then sent away from home so they could heal and when i was allowed back home the wall of silence remained and still there 20 yrs later, I was the victim but some how it all became my fault. I felt more tortured and shamed than ever before… i wish i could have been allowed to let the light in….
I am so sorry that you weren’t supported and loved when you spoke your truth- but ultimately I still think it is the right thing to do. You telling the truth didn’t destroy your family or your relationships- because if your family was healthy that would not have been their reaction. You should have been lifted up, you should have been protected and cherished. I am so sorry that was not your experience.
I hope this brought about a sense of closure and relief, because, I have to say, I may well borrow this very brave idea when death finally does justice to a certain someone I loathe.
Wow. That’s about all I can say, as I type with tears in my eyes. This was really moving and I feel honored to have stumbled across this 🙂 Blessings on you and your cousin.
Reblogged this on I Will Not Live in Vain and commented:
I can’t even… I just… Well… This just moved me to read. Highly recommend.
Reblogged this on Betty Gregory, J.D., Insurance Consultant.
What a wonderful story. I was once a sexual assault prosecutor. A man in his 40s came in with a similar story about his neighbor raping him when he was 12. He was not nearly as devastated about the rape as he was that his father did not believe him when he told.
I believed him. I told him so. And he went away lighter.
Betty, thank you so much for the important work you did on behalf of sexual abuse victims, and for the compassion you showed that man- it makes all the difference in the world.
I love, love this story and have read and re-read it many times. I had a similar experience and he wrote it down. A different time, a different he did not. People in roles that bear witness need to know how they influence our healing, and your story does this in a powerful way. Thank you.
I’m so happy that you guys worked up the nerve to tell someone about what he did to you and that person was so unbelievably awesome about it. You can always save the literal dance for later, he ain’t going nowhere.
oh- we’ll dance, sister. Don’t you worry about that. 🙂
This brought tears to my eyes. I am glad he bared witness for you and put words and weight to your story.
Your bravery and courage will give voice to so many. You are both so powerful. Mary, I’m sorry I never knew….the power of women never ceases to amaze and inspire.
Reblogged this on rhenaiy.
Bravo!
Officer Paul Smith is a testament to the good and the Kindness in folk. x
He really, really is. Don’t know if you saw the update, Charlie- but we met him for coffee last week. Decency really is delightful.
Good luck. Thank you. Well done!
I am a 52-year-old survivor, and I never told until I was in my 30’s. I am so sorry, Laura, that you, your sister Aimee and your cousin Mary went through what you did. But you three give meaning to the word survivor. I can picture all of you, strong warrior women, standing together. Actually, I can picture all of us survivors standing together, banding together, helping each other. I keep going back to your story. I have referenced it in two of my blog posts. I want to report my abusers. I now live in South Africa, but the next time I’m back in the States, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I can only hope to speak to an officer as compassionate and wonderful as Officer Paul. Please thank him from a fellow survivor. Yes, he heard you. Yes, he wrote it down. Yes, yes, yes! Thank you Officer Paul!! Thank you, Laura…so much, for inspiring me.
Reblogged this on If I Were a Butterfly and commented:
I loved this blog post so much, and have referenced it in two of my posts, that I have decided to reblog it here. Thank you Laura, Aimee and Mary. And thank you so much Officer Paul.
Sorry Laura, I don’t think it reblogged onto my blog. I will try again. New at this! 🙂
Reblogged this on bcsmithereens and commented:
A journey that shouldn’t have to be made… my wish is that it can help one person become brave enough to speak out.
That’s our hope, too. xo
reblogged on bcsmithereens… thank you for sharing!
Oh my … as a counselor/therapist I am privy to hear how the wounds of such horrific abuses are compounded when their tragic experiences are not validated and/or vindicated in any way by the people who are supposed to care/support and protect them.
you’re right, Karen- not being believed is a devastating trauma in itself. Mary and I both had that experience to different degrees- it’s why our experience with Officer Paul was so healing.
Reblogged this on Cupcake..
I love the ease in which you tackled such a painful reality. Simply full of depth.
And I know that “ease” is not a word that in any way describes how you tackled this!
It is actually easy to talk about now, because the story is no longer my WHOLE story, just a piece. As soon as I reclaimed it, it lost its power over me. It’s why I am so determined to help other survivors take their stories back. xo
Reblogged this on Mended Musings and commented:
It’s hard to describe what I feel when I read a post like this. Sad, of course, but there’s so much more. I feel like God is lifting me up, I feel hope and I feel renewed sense of purpose. These cousins are amazingly brave and whether you’ve found your voice or are still trying to find it, I pray this post gives you wings.
Thank you, Karen. That means so much to me.
Thank you for sharing.
Thank you so much for sharing this. It’s been almost 40 years ago since my grandfather did this to me, and I’m sitting here in my bed crying like a baby. I just talked to my sister and we may do the same thing as a part of our healing process. I’m not angry anymore, but when this is done to a child it’s the “gift that keeps on giving”. We are forever altered. Forever affected. And when we do things like you two did, we heal a little bit each time. Prayers and love for you both!!
I read your comment the other day while I was away on business, and have been thinking about it ever since. “Forever altered.” Yes. That’s true. BUT, sweet sister, we get to decide HOW. Stronger. More compassionate. Justice seekers. Resilient. We choose, once we stand inside our stories and own them. WE CHOOSE. I am right here, next to you, holding your hand. Let’s choose together. xoxo
Wow, I am at a complete loss as to what to say, except GOOD FOR YOU!!! The scars, wounds and alteration of a childhood that held trauma NEVER goes away. However, this just sounds so incredibly logical and healing and powerful and helpful! In church every Sunday there is a ritual in both the Catholic and Anglican faith where we turn to each other and say “Peace be with you”….after reading this story this ritual has a lot more importance to me. My hope and prayer for you is that this truly does add another layer of healing for you.
When this came in my email, I knew it was going to be powerful so wanted to wait until I had quiet time to read it. That was now. And wow. I am shaking from the power of this. From the strength of the two of you. From the kindness and humanity of Officer Paul. From your showing that when things go horribly wrong and can’t be fixed in the way you might choose, they can still be better in other ways unforeseen.
Thank you for stepping into this, and for sharing it.
I’m moved beyond words.
So glad he wrote it down.
So glad there are abs to fawn over.
So glad tomorrow is another day.
Blessings upon your dance moves,
Dani
Bittersweet tears…for you and for the people in my life who were victims of abuse. Thank you for courageously sharing this powerful story. Please know you are making a difference. Keep being brave…
This is the second time that I’m reading this and here I sit crying happy tears for you again. You are an inspiration to me. <3 I just may have to do this myself one day. Thank you for sharing your story.
Much love!
I am so very happy someone listened to you! No one listened when I was raped at 7 yrs old. When I confronted my father with his parents’ ritual abuse from the time I was 5 at 15 yrs old, he beat me up. When I reported HIS abuse to our pastor, all he did was ‘counsel’ my father. When I picked up a gun to kill him, my mother talked me down – then bought me a new wardrobe. I am blessed with an incredibly loving husband, and a couple of good therapists, who have helped me through this. There are sometimes I still have flashbacks. Now I have a way to cope, although back then I had my horse to escape on for a little while. Now I have dogs and a loving family that understands. Being taken seriously is such an incredibly powerful and healing thing. God Bless you both as you continue on this journey of healing.
Oh, Suzy. I am so incredibly sorry that happened to you, and that your bravery in telling was met with such ignorance. I am so thankful that you found your way through that despair and into the sunlight. You miraculous girl xoxo
Suzy, I am so, so sorry you went through all of that. It probably didn’t feel like it at the time, but I’m glad your mother talked you down from killing him. I have not been through this myself, but reading your story (along with Laura’s other posts and many of the comments), I can certainly see why you wanted to. You are incredibly strong and brave to have kept moving forward, especially after being beaten when you told. I’m so glad you have a loving family and supportive environment now.
Suzy, my heart aches for you. Reading your story is all too familiar. It makes my belly somersault. What a remarkable person you are. You rose above it. You were able to break through. I applaud you for your resilience and for your loving family who you deserve. Yay, you. M
The Validation is crucial. I was believed. After 33 years and a 4 year legal process the trial of my abuser starts tomorrow. I so needed to read your story just now. Thanks for your courage in sharing it.
WOW. I will be praying for you. HARD. Please, please, please let me know how it goes. That is AMAZING.
I will, in just over 12 hours I will be stepping into my car to drive up the highway to get to court. I’m starting to feel a bit sick in the stomach. The thing is I will be able to hopefully close the door on that part of my life now.
That is incredible. I will be holding you in my heart, today.
He was acquitted at mid day today. To say I’m shattered and gutted is an understatement. I’m destroyed as he was the last one left alive. They all got away with it.
Oh God. I am so, so sorry. That is devastating. You were so incredibly brave to push forward. Sometimes there is no justice to be had, even when you do every right thing. I can’t imagine the frustration and betrayal you must be feeling right now with the justice system. I hope you know, though, that there was still merit in coming forward and speaking your truth, if only because it frees your soul. Maya Angelou said, ‘There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.’ I believe that, friend. I do.
You stepped into the light. You were SO BRAVE. You spoke your truth. Your abusers could never do that. You are ten times the man any of them could ever hope to be. And you WERE believed. The police and the DA would never have gone forward with the case if they didn’t believe you. Professional people, WHO GET IT, believed you.
I believe you.
I will be praying for you and carrying you in my heart today.
Thank you that means a lot to me.
People are fallible. Obviously. The jury made a mistake. You seeking justice was NOT a mistake. You speaking your truth was NOT a mistake. I hope you know that.
I’m so sorry your legal case ended this way but know you won the moral case, the case for brave and strong and good and right. You stood up when it was easier to not and you told the truth. When you did that you stepped into the light and moved beyond the things that happened to you. You are stronger than you ever knew and you get to stay in the bright light! You’re in my thoughts and prayers. With love, J.❤️
Oh my. I am so, so, sorry…. I can’t even imagine…. My abuser died before I told anyone, so I don’t have any kind of reference for that kind of pain. But whatever the court system decided, I hope you know that you did the right thing. It may seem like he “got away with it” but really, he didn’t. You stood up to him. You told the truth. There were people who believed you or it would have never gone to court. He cowered behind lies…. knowing you were right… knowing that you had the strength to stand up to him… to tell the truth. Lies hold you prisoner. He may not be behind iron bars, but he IS a prisoner. Truth sets you free. So keep telling your story… IT MATTERS! And not just to you but to so many like you. Find freedom in truth and hold your head up high. He is bound by his lies and his secrets. You are not. You’ve stood strong and courageous and have broken those bonds. You are free to soar, Renaissance Man. Paint your story with bold colors and amazing beauty. Sing it with a strong and steady voice. Your pain matters. Thank you for trusting us with it.
My abuser… my step brother….died a horrible brain cancer death. There is no grave to dance on. No one would have believed me .Bringing it up would cause a divorce between my mom & step dad. My mom would never forgive me so I kept my mouth shut from 4-12 yrs old. It took 50 yrs. to say anything. Now I’m in sexual abuse counseling. . going on 5 yrs. But now I can talk about …most… of it but only to certain friends.
For what it’s worth, I believe you. My adults didn’t ever believe me, and when abusers get away with it, it is profoundly unjust. You don’t know me, but I will hold a space for you today. I’m so sorry all of this happened to you.
Its just gone midnight here and my head is still spinning my stomach is churning and I have to face my bed. There is so much going through my head. Over here in Australia in court previous guilt or crimes cannot be discussed in a trial. Only the events or event that a person is charged with. I understand that because it is designed to make sure an innocent person isn’t found guilty in error. So I don’t blame the system because I understand it. What has upset me and hurt me deeply is the sneaky conniving way his legal team got the acquittal. The original case was going to include four survivors. Myself, one other male and two females. He pleaded guilty to assaulting the two girls. Then his legal team used a little known legal precedent in law here in my state of Victoria to get my trial separated from the other males. By doing this the evidence that we would give could not corroborate with each other. With the other male he was found guilty in 4 of 7 charges. In my case as there was only one charge he was found not guilty. He legal team seized on a discrepancy around a date (which after 34 years is hard to confirm) and because his other offending could not be disclosed the jury were not convinced beyond reasonable doubt that he had done what he did. Even though in court his legal team contrived an alternative scenario of events. If one thing comes out of this is that the Crown Prosecutor (I suppose the Australian equivalent to your District Attorney) is going to write a submission to make changes to that piece of legislation so that this cant happen again. The other hurt I know when she finds out will come from my childrens mother who has mocked me for doing this and now will do so even more given that I lost. I hurt because I survived 11 years of abuse by catholic nuns, brothers and priests. From 1970 to 1981 inclusive. This one was the last one left alive so sometimes today and I’m sure it will feel this way into the future it feels like they got away with it.
Oh. I am glad he was found guilty of some of the other charges, but I cannot imagine the pain, frustration and disappointment you must be feeling. As far as what your children’s mother thinks- honey, lay that down. That is not yours to carry. Anyone who would mock someone for seeking justice is not someone whose opinion should carry any weight with you.
I hope that out of this miscarriage of justice comes some fundamental change in the law. It won’t help your case, but you could be part of the reason other survivors going forward are able to get justice for themselves.
I know nothing I can say will make it any better, but you have been on my mind all morning. Please take care of yourself right now, okay? Get some help if you need it. This is a LOT to process.
L
I am so, so sorry. I can’t tell you anything better than what anyone else here already has, but I want you to know that I, too, believe you, and I am in your corner. I don’t know how some defense lawyers can sleep at night. It’s good to know that he did get nailed for some of what he did, but I wish it had included you, too.
I agree with Laura about the opinion of your children’s mother. I’m sure it won’t be easy, but you did some massively difficult standing up for yourself already — you can do this. You might or might not feel as if you can use this opportunity to say to your children how important it is to stand up for what’s right even when people don’t treat you well. I don’t know their ages or if that would feel right to you; it’s just a thought.
If you haven’t already, I hope you will consider looking into counseling or support groups for people who have experienced this kind of pain. Wishing you better things ahead.
It is so disheartening when you do the right thing but don’t experience the right outcome. Amidst the swarm of emotions you may be feeling I hope you rest on a sense of accomplishment and courage for doing such a brave thing – coming forward and sharing your truth. When I was preparing for trial where I faced my attacker after 21 years, one truth that I held onto was “vengeance is mine, I will repay” Rom 12:19. I have to believe that justice will be served, in time. I wish you peace and comfort. So many of us are thinking of you and standing in solidarity with you. Be well, brave one.
I’m so sorry! Just finished a three week trial in which the defense pulled out every trick he could, including trying to use the court processes to have the case thrown out. I know you feel crushed, but you’re not. Please be good to yourself, esp. now. You’re not alone!
He didn’t completely get away with it.
We know.
We believe you.
Your friend who lost his court case is a very brave man. He did the right thing even though the outcome was wrong. Please let him know he is in prayers for healing and grace. Hope he is proud of himself for taking this difficult step in his healing. Though I don’t even know his name, God does. <3
I am so sorry that happened to you. My grandfather recently got out of prision. He was arrested for sending naked pictures to a teenage girl. It makes me sick because he had touch my sister and many other girls but the statue of limitations were up by the time he was caught. What made me really sick is he was allowed to go to church where there were children. Nothing was done about it for a long time. Every one had to be quiet. He was all kept under the table. Finally he was thrown out of the church and he just moved on to another and then another. He was arrested again but for a shorter time. My sister ran away because of it before he was arrested. People like.. its just so messed up. I am glad you got closure. I’m sorry that happened to you. NO body deserved that. ((hugs)) thank you for sharing this with us.
I just re-posted this on FB–have been so moved by the story, and it came to our family at a time when we really, really needed to know of others who were finding vindication and healing! Thank you! My daughters and a couple of additional victims went in to the police department in Portland, re-reported what happened to them as children…the police heard them, took down their reports (thought they’d reported in ’97, and SOL laws seemed likely to preclude them receiving any justice…), and then actually reopened the investigation! Their abuser just began his twenty-year sentence. http://www.oregonlive.com/clackamascounty/index.ssf/2015/04/happy_valley_pastor_mike_spero_1.html
that is AMAZING! I am so glad they were taken seriously and that they got some justice. Reading that just made my day. I am so sorry your daughters went through that, but what WARRIORS they are for going back all those years later to stop him.
I am so sorry to read your stories. Your stories and my personal experience is the reason I produced Pursuit of Truth Film. http://www.pursuitoftruthfilm.com
My son disclosed to me his senior year at college that he had been abused by a family member from ages 7-11. Our legal system consistently fails adult survivors of child sexual abuse who seek justice against their perpetrators.
I don’t know you, but thank you. I’ve been dealing with something like this for about 40 years. I’ve written a substantial piece I plan to post soon. It takes courage to call out those who abused us, even after they’re dead. Peace and hugs.
I cried while I was reading this post. So glad you are recovering.
I was molested by my grandparents around my 5th birthday. As hard as this is my grandmother was also part of this abuse. They abused my mom when she was a kid. Four more family members abused in the next 11 years. Life has not been easy, but it never is.
I am so, so sorry, Michael.
Thank you
I have taught school over a 30 year period and worked with survivors in some way over a 28 year period. I have run workshops, retreats, started up groups, and started a company Creative Healing via the Arts. The best thing we can do is live a good life.
At 31 years of age someone hurt me again. It was abusive and it was with a trusted person 21 years older than me. This was the start of my adult abuse which included being locked up in a house for 10 months in 2006. I am doing well I am marred have 3 step kids and one wonderful wife. I am also published in a few places. One is in the book “In Cabin Six” edt by Jill Kuhn
Reading this make my heart fill with joy. My two sisters and I are currently waiting on a trail against my grandfather. I believe I wasn’t the first. Until this year, I thought I was the last. I live in a completely different state now. I had told myself I was being paranoid for years. Sadly I was wrong. We’ve lost most our family over it. I don’t like being away from my siblings and mother. I will not move back to that small town. I just hope that my sisters will stay strong and graduate. Maybe move away after this is all over. Thank you for your story. It meant a lot to me.
Love Katelynn
Brave, brave girl. So proud of you and your sisters for standing your ground and speaking your truth. Please let me know what happens. xo
Very amazingly strong woman?
My heart goes out to all who have suffered in this way, but know that these sick people have not gotten away with it – God knows what they’ve done, and one day they will answer to Him. Mark 9:42. I pray you will be able to find peace and healing.
You are so brave. I wish I could do this. You girls are amazing.
So inspiring.
Reblogged this on yankeegirltales and commented:
I’ve been thinking about dancing on a grave one day, too. But he’s not dead yet. I guess I need to go report a crime.
I have re read your story for a second time, and all the comments.
My abuser is currently serving 5 yrs for abusing me over a 15 yr period. He systemically abused his two sisters and his first cousin when he was a teenager, then his two daughters.
Unfortunately he has severe dementia now and is not deemed suitable for therapy.
The court process was extremely difficult, to receive a guilty plea at the last minute saved me from having to go thru a trial.
I found my mantra and it got me thru the tough times. “I found my voice and I will not be silenced”.
I hope you are all able to find YOUR voice, you are all amazing, strong, resilient people. Much love.
PS I’m looking forward to doing some dancing of my own one day.
I am so glad you found your voice and that you’ve used it to seek justice for yourself and others. You warrior. xo
I’m so grateful to you for sharing this story. Thank god for that policeman, knowing you needed to tell your story and be heard and believed. I’m convinced that when we all learn to tell our stories and harness the power we release by doing that, we can change the world. We WILL change it.
Guess it’s time for me to do this.
Officer Paul changed our lives on that day, and we are forever grateful to him for it. You are absolutely right. I formly believe that whatever story we are not telling, the one we;ve attached the most shame to- that’s the story in charge of our whole lives. That’s why Mary and I started Say It, Survivor. We decided to take our experience of telling our stories and the healing that brought us and try to give the same experience to other survivors. For more information on what we’re doing, go to sayitsurvivor.com
I can barely type this through the tears. It was 26 years ago, I was 15 and at a party. I was so innocent at the time, I’d only kissed one boy. By the time I was dropped off on my mothers doorstep early the next morning, covered in bruises, bleeding, my jaw swollen from being punched, that innocence was gone. I didn’t tell anyone. Nobody wrote it down. I was afraid to write it down because then it would become real. You are both so extraordinary and brave. I admire your courage.
I am writing down your name Brandy. I am saying a prayer for you today.
I am so sorry that happened to you, Brandy. YOU can write it down, though. You can take your story back. We either own our stories, or they own us. Period. If you ever want to tell your story, if you ever need to lay down that dark and heavy thing, you can send it to me. I read people’s stories every day. It’s the great honor of my life.
Thank you for sharing this. When family doesn’t believe you it’s hard to imagine anyone will. So I kept quiet.
That’s heartbreakingly true for so many people. I believe you, for what that’s worth. And if you need to tell your story to someone, you can tell it to me. I will bear witness for you.
Dear Friend (Can I call you that? Your writing makes me feel like we are friends.),
I just want you to know that this piece of writing has stuck with me since ainread it two years ago in a way I can’t describe. The way you shared your story and exposed that human desire that we all have to be heard and understood. While I wish it was a story that didn’t exist in the first place, I’m grateful to have heard it. Thank you dear friend. -Roma
Thank you, sweet friend. That means the world to me.
Just read this again. I read it the first time when this post was originally published. And it has not lost its wallop. I got choked up, I smiled, I silently cheered, I cried. I am SO sorry this ‘man’ happened to you. But I was chilled when I read those words in the narrative ‘He wrote it down’ and I GOT the significance of that for you. Well, as best I can since what happened to you is not anything I can ever fully wrap my head around.
Anyway, this remains an incredibly powerful post. I thank you for sharing it with us.
This post IS doing its work… I am absorbing and leaning into this, Laura, and I thank YOU for a post that you wrote as you said in about twenty minutes with no edits and had not a clue as to how it would continue to send its ripple effects both inward and outward.
What a vital reminder of what a sacred vessel we can be for one another to simply hold the space, be a heart with ears and to write it down as Officer Paul did for Mary and for you.
In gratitude,
Joanie
I first read this blog and commented over two years ago when a link was sent to me by a colleague and advocate. I am still the person primarily responsible for investigating reports of sexual assault (as well as dating and domestic violence) at a small private college, and the power of this idea, “he wrote it down,” still informs my work. I am simultaneously encourage and saddened to say that we have ever more reports each year. My encouragement stems from the belief that we have created a culture of reporting and are now hearing about a greater portion of incidents. My sadness come from the knowledge that the problem persists, not just in a liberal arts college, but broadly within all societies. I continue to write everything down and use this blog as a touchstone when I feel worn down by the stream of reports. Indeed, as the e-mail telling me about a new posting arrived today I have dozens and dozens of pages of investigative documents spread across my desk–along with my lunch.
Please keep reporting. Perhaps one of the most disheartening parts of my job is when I hear someone make a report that they carried with them for years and are only now sharing. It is a personal journey and choice when to report–and speaking out is the only way for people who do my work to hold people accountable.
Thank you.
Gary G.
Portland, Oregon
After I disclosed, I met with a police officer who traveled 8 hours to write down my story. My abuser was still alive at that point and no one had ever outed him. I had very little to share with that officer and felt very unprepared and inadequate. I have since learned it’s hard to verbalize things that happened before you were able to talk – I still struggle with that. But also, I disassociated in such a way that most of what happened to me is still dark. I typically shy away from things like this because I don’t like being pulled back down into the feelings, the regret and the memories. Sometimes it seems I feel too much for other’s stories. Having heard the podcast you were on with the Practical Minimalists, I admire the strength you have to be of service to so many. I have so much respect and gratitude for what you are doing – for your bravery and your empathy. ‘Thank you’ seems far too inadequate.
It is always a challenge to process trauma that occurred before you had the vocabulary to express it or the perspective to understand what it was when you were in it. Hopefully, the officer you dealt with explained to you that more often than not, survivors of child sexual abuse do not disclose in a linear, cohesive way. Trauma memories, especially those from childhood, are disjointed and have blank spaces.
Our brains are miraculous- they protect us in a myriad of ways. I am proud of you for telling your story in the best way you could. You showed up and told the truth- that is an amazing act of courage. Please check out the Say It, Survivor community on FB. We’re trying to create a safe space for survivors to process and tell their stories. xo
Laura
My grandfather fondled me when I was in middle school. I will never have the guts to tell. His memory is that he was perfect. My mom still treasures him. He was abusive to her and her brothers growing up and yet she treasures and married a man who is the real oerfect gentleman. I have told my story to friends. But never will to family. I know I won’t be believed and prob will be disowned. I am so proud of you making a police report. Maybe i will after my grandma and parents are gone. I have an amazing support group of friends who let me vent about it when something triggers it. And the kicker is I now live in his house where the incident occured. Taking care of my grandmother, his wife who has Alzheimer’s.
You aren’t ready to tell NOW. Not YET. There are many ways to reclaim and tell your story. Please check out the Say It, Survivor website and Facebook page. We also have a blog where survivors can tell their stories anonymous. Not everyone can be public. Not everyone gets to report and have it taken seriously by police. There are other ways to give voice to your truth. If you need resources, email me at inotherswordsblog@gmail.com
Also,
https://inotherswords.com/2016/01/27/picket-fences/
You write brilliantly. No maudlin undertone – just pure truth. It left me sobbing, more out of elation than sadness.
Thank you, that’s incredibly kind of you.
I read this story two years ago. After twenty years of silence, you inspired my voice. I marched into the police station down the street and they too wrote it down. My abuser wasn’t prosecuted but I found my voice. I could never thank you enough in a million years.
In tears. I am so incredibly proud of you for standing up for your younger self. That quote “Be who you needed when you were young” just came to mind. Sometimes traditional ‘justice’ can’t be found. I don’t even like using that word because there IS no justice, even when someone goes to jail. Justice would be never having been harmed in the first place. In lieu of punishment, though, there can be redemption. You warrior. If nothing else good had come out of that experience for me, Lacy, this would be enough. So grateful you shared this. I needed it this week. xo
Pausing at the beginning of this day to hold space for that little girl. “You warrior,” Laura says. Damn straight. We–all these beautiful survivors—we see you, Lacy. We are FOR you. Keep speaking into that beautiful new voice you’ve taken possession of. Tell others your story…sing to them of what it means to recover and live in freedom, hope, and love. So so happy for you.
he WROTE. IT. DOWN. So amazingly powerful, to be heard and believed. Mad love and respect from a fellow survivor.
I have a friend who is 91….Ninety One!….and still talks about being abused by her Grandfather. About how her mother used to send her to the basement when she must have known what was happening and might have even been abused herself. When she talks about it breaks my heart and I want to show her all of these stories and tell her things are getting better. Thank you for being brave and speaking the truth. Thank you for my friend Helen.
Tell Helen if she needs a place to share her story to email me. Tell her she is not alone and that she is a warrior. I love Helen.
You make my mama’s heart a little less broken. A little more sure that my daughters will find their way through the trauma they endured.
Invalidation and Loss of Trust
I just re-read your original post for perhaps the 5th time. I needed to cry again and to be empowered again and to remind myself that I can still do this work. I investigate reports of sexual assault at a small, private college. I have done this work since 2010 and your story changed my practice of investigations for the better. Now, years later, after many dozens more reports and investigations, I am being tested.
I will come in on Saturday to meet with two students–friends of someone who made a report–who have individually written to me and told me that I am protecting rapists. They wrote much more, and all of it described a profound lack of trust. I don’t believe that they meant to harm me. They could not know that I am a survivor. They could not know that my life partner was raped as a young child by a family member. They are in their own suffering and sticking up for their friend.
The impetus was this: I was unable to come to an investigative finding. Despite writing everything down, trying to get potential witnesses to participate, reviewing text messages, wrestling with facts with my full-time investigator, Michelle, I could not write down that, more likely than not, the person accused did what was described.
My work has led to the expulsion of students, suspensions, other sanctions–and an equal number of “unable to determine” conclusions. The police officer in your story said he would have arrested your grandfather. I have no such power.
I know that an “unable to determine” result is inherently invalidating to the victim/survivor. I know it will likely lead them to suffer in old and new ways. Yet, despite my best work and my determination, not all reports can be proven in the way that is required for official sanction. I don’t know what to do.
They each wrote that they would never report a rape to me now. This is the most dangerous and terrifying idea of all: people who have been harmed will not seek help, and the people who harmed them will not be held accountable. I don’t know what to do–and I must try to do something. I offered to meet with the students, first to listen and hopefully to hear. Then, perhaps, if they are able, to share my conviction in doing this work and look for some trust. Thankfully, they have agreed.
Both of these things are true: when there is no investigative finding it is invalidating for the person who made the report, and the absence of an investigative finding in no way means that the report was not 100% accurate. That is intellectual. I don’t know how to translate that to less invalidation and suffering and harm when I convey that message.
I have no idea if writing this down will help, but it felt like something I needed to do. Since you’ve created this space and so many people have stepped in and since it’s restored and validated my resolve over the years, it seems like a place where I can share my suffering and confusion and feeling of helplessness when my having written it down ultimately ends here: invalidation and lack of trust.
Thank you to anyone who might actually read this.
Gary
Re-reading this in 2022 as I go through my dozens of bookmarks to see which are worth keeping (this one is). Teary-eyed for you, your sister, and your cousin all over again.
I’m glad I’m not the only one who comes back and re-reads this even years later.
And I will never stop being grateful for Laura sharing her light, grace, wisdom, kindness with me through some very, very dark years, and teaching me it was okay to reach for sunlight.
I just read your post. I have to go to parent teacher conferences, but I will respond when I have more time to do so properly. For now just let me say this, I think you are incredibly brave and strong. I am so sorry those terrible things happened to you, but I am SO glad that you are here and telling your story. You’re amazing, sister. xo