Twelve years ago I’d just begun talking about sexual abuse with a counselor. Before I confronted my parents, I resolved to gather as much support from my friends as I could. I scheduled time individually with four or five of my closest pals to talk, and when two of them listened to my story and then told me about the physical and sexual abuse they’d experienced, I was blown away.
It’s not like I didn’t know the statistics. The numbers are whispered by aghast (and yet inordinately interested) talk show hosts or printed in shiny magazines so frequently that they hardly seem real. Twenty-five percent of girls and seventeen percent of boys will be sexually abused by the time they are eighteen. One in four. One in six.
So why should I be surprised that nearly every time I mention sexual abuse, someone discloses to me?
I shouldn’t be surprised, yet whenever I hear a disclosure I am. I’m surprised, and shocked, and horribly saddened when people disclose, especially when the people disclosing are ones I love.
There’s undeniable power in the telling of abuse stories. Each time the story is told, a weight of shame and responsibility is lifted. Eventually it occurs to the teller that there’s no need to feel disgrace or guilt. There isn’t now, and there never was. They did nothing wrong, not in being abused or in talking about the abuse.
I won’t blindly encourage folks who have thus far stayed silent suddenly to start spilling. But maybe they’ll begin thinking about considering even the possibility of someday (someday soon) telling someone.
I was seventeen when I first told … It made me whole.
A {hug} for you AAG — you are so very brave.
I told right away, the same day, because I didn’t understand what I was telling. I didn’t understand enough until 4 years after that, once I began learning even remotely about sex. And 24 years later I’m still dealing with the repercussions of that one day. And I haven’t talked about it with my parents for at least as long (it wasn’t them or anyone in the family, btw). I’m scared to talk about it, especially just to admit to myself what’s going on.
But I’m starting to. And that is partly from reading your blog, AAG.
I was on some small level. I was wrestling with one of my older brothers friend and he started rubbing me and trying to finger me through my pants. I pushed him off and avoided him from then on. I was like 12. I don’t feel like this really defines me, but it might explain why I have a hard time getting intimate with men. My best friend knows, but nobody else. When I tell people they just kinda roll their eyes and say “THAT isn’t sexual assualt.”
Sunbunny, I just read a post at this blog http://www.deablog.com/
that I think does a wonderful job of defining (if you can) sexual assault and addresses “degrees” of assault.
EXCELLENT post. Thank you for sharing it. –aag
Sharing your burden with someone else lightens the load. I think it’s essential to healing.
I’m glad you talk about this here. It’s a good thing. Thank you.
i am so lucky to not be one of the four.
i’d really like to hear from the men. my last boyfriend and my fiance both suffered sexual abuse at the hands of family members. i’d like to understand how these kinds of experiences contribute a man’s sexual development and how rigid standards of masculinity that prevent speaking out effect personal/self development. any insight would be helpful.
AAG and mommydee, thanks for your kind words.
Sunbunny, actually that DOES count as sexual assault. Check out the RAINN site AAG linked to, with the definitions of rape and sexual assault. Sexual assault includes unwanted sexual touching or fondling.
nenasadije, there are some resources related to men and assault here, here, and here
I was one of the second generation molested by a great uncle. He molested his children and their friends, and then went into a mental ward – not only avoiding prosecution, but convincing people he was ‘better’. He went on to molest his grandchildren, and any of the rest of us he could get his hands on. He was in his late 70′s when it finally looked like the gig was up for him, and he committed suicide rather than letting the legal system work. Honestly, his suicide might have been the best outcome.
Molestation is a family disease in so many ways… Not only the near enabling of family who ignored signs because they thought he was better, but also the one molested alongside me who is now in prison for the same crime.
It will never stop until we speak. Thanks for bringing this topic to light and sharing your journey. You are certainly not alone.
Already posted a long reply, but want to add something that really helped me recently.
A few weeks ago, my husband had the unfortunate privilege to serve as a juror in a child molestation trial. This man was accused of molesting granddaughters recently, but one of the witnesses against him was his 30 y/o stepdaughter who testified that he had done the same to her when she was younger. (she disclosed to her mother at the time, and mom told her it was b/c she kicked off the covers, and you can’t expect a man to see something like that and not do something…) Sickening.
(And yes, they found him guilty, with my (hero) husband as the foreman.)
While the trial had nothing to do with me, the outcome was a good stab at the dragon I’m trying to slay.
Nicchi,
Your comments are disheartening (that our legal system can be that bad) and encouraging (that our legal system can work sometimes) at the same time. Thank you for sharing and kudos to your husband for his courage.
I was molested by my grandfather when I was 3 years old. I told no one until I was 16, before it could drive me to kill myself. I confronted him a few days before he died and it was the biggest high I have ever experienced. My daughter is now three and, I admit, I am so paranoid I won’t leave her with anyone except my MIL. (Yeah, I’m seeing a therapist about that, I promise.)
AAG, one of my links was broken in my comment…sorry…can you go in and edit it? I can’t remember exactly what I linked to, but I probably just forgot to close a link or something.
:) There was nothing there. No link, just “here.” I removed it. Thank you for finding those resources! –aag
There is an excellent book coming out called Courage in Patience that is a “story of hope for those who have endured abuse.”
You can read the first chapter and get more information about it at courageinpatience.blogspot.com.
I think it is and will be a useful resource for those who have dealt with or are struggling with coming to terms with sexual abuse.
For me, it was a teacher in 4th grade. It wasn’t *quite* molestation, but he was prosecuted with molesting 20 girls that came before me. The part that was scary was that he had a system worked out where he would get each of the girls to trust him first… and I was well in to the stages of trust when he was arrested and he shot himself. I managed to get away with nothing more than a little too much shoulder rubbing while talking about math. But it’s enough to scare the crap out of you looking back.
So many times telling isn’t the end or the sigh of relief. It’s sad but it’s true. I was one of the unlucky ones that it happened to. I no longer try to hide it or feel shame, but it’s something you live with and face every single day.
I have blogged about it but it’s not what people want to read. Especially not from a “sex blogger” because it tends to make people uncomfortable.
The good news is…I dealt with it and was blessed enough to never ever repeat the things that were done to me, despite what the community said I would do because it was done to me. Countless therpaists and counselors still believe that those who were abused will abuse again. Another sad but true instance.
Thanks for speaking up, AAG. Thanks for linking to an invaluable resource.
Hi, new to the blog. I was abused for about 13 years. And you are right, everytime I talk about, someone has something to say about their own abuse or someone they know. Talking about it has been very healing.