There are hundreds for people that have been raped that follow this site. They are looking for answers, they are looking to sort our their pain, they are looking for someone to understand what they’ve gone through. They are looking to be validated when it comes to their feelings and their anquish. They are looking for a way to move past it all and to lay down the shame but most importantly they are looking for someone to tell them that the abuse they suffered at the hands of another ‘WAS REALLY THAT BAD’. Not only was it really that bad, THEY WERE NOT AT FAULT. They were victims of a heinous crime.
I can’t take credit for this post, even though most of you that know me well will think it is one of my old journal entries, it was actually written by a fellow blogger Minimooey. Don’t just read it here, check out the site. There you will find someone who is fighting the fight of healing just like yourself.
It’s Not That Bad
Growing up the abuse was ignored, shoved under the rug or pushed aside. We were taught to pretend it was not happening. When it did become public and could not be ignored anymore we were told it was not that bad in more ways than one. There was always someone who had suffered more than we had so we should count ourselves lucky, at least it wasn’t a stranger, we had the gospel and the savior, we were loved some children don’t get any love, it was just molestation not actual rape. I remember more than one conversation on what was actual rape. It was concluded that ONLY if a man’s penis penetrated far enough to actually break the membrane then it was rape, other wise technically it was not rape. Oral sex was not rape either, just inappropriate touching or molestation. What happened to us wasn’t that bad; other family members came first, like the boys (They needed a chance to rebuild their broken lives) and mom and dad (Their pain and sorrow was so great how dare we talk and ask questions. Can’t we see it hurts them). While we were being taught this some of the family would cry on behave of other children’s stories about abuse. They would watch a movie or read a story in the news then wail and cry for that child and declare how does one recover from that kind of trauma. It is so awful! Those poor children! We were never allowed the connection to what happened to us and actual child abuse because other children suffered so much more than we did. Our family was special. The boys were good people. How dare we try to relate to other stories of child abuse. What happened to us does not compare. We were loved! We were a family!
As an adult many years later I sat in a counselor’s office after many sessions I began to tell him some of what had actually happened to me with this attitude my family had about the abuse. I began by telling him that I don’t why I am in such bad shape because what happened to me wasn’t that bad, other people suffer worse things and at least I had a family and a home. He listened to some of my stories and as I watched his face I could see a look of disbelief and a real sadness. I thought at first he was going to say that my family was right, it wasn’t that bad, he had seen worse and I had nothing to worry about. His disbelief was for the idea that I didn’t seem to understand how badly I had been abused. He said the few stories I had the courage to relate to him were that bad. I allowed myself a little bit of relief but couldn’t be fully persuaded to his understanding. I was still stuck in the family lie because I didn’t want to be responsible for hurting them. I didn’t want to hurt my family. But this counselor’s words rang true to me (Secretly I had always related to the stories brought home about child abuse.) and I could not let go of the comfort and truth it brought to me. It has taken years but I am finally going to say it, believe it and mean it. The abuse I suffered at the hands of my four older brothers was that bad and I am a survivor of childhood sexual abuse.