Remember how I said last week was the first time I didn’t want to be hushed any more? That feeling has been haunting me in the best and the worst ways. It has been so exhilarating to think about speaking out. I get this rush of adrenaline when I think it. This feeling of empowerment just rushes over me and I feel so light. Then, I hear my parents in my head. They are saying what they always say: “This isn’t a secret. The people who need to know, know” Or, “There’s lots of things we don’t know about other people. Everyone has things they don’t share.” When I think of these things, I feel ashamed. I feel a heaviness in my chest. It’s a darkness that rolls back over my spirit. What do my parents mean with those who need to know, know? Well, in short, they went to counseling for about a year. My dad now claims he would never do that again and that he doesn’t even have those thoughts. This is something that I could never believe and my therapist’s professional opinion supports it. I digress, because this isn’t about him….
It’s about me and this strength that I somehow found to send out an email. Okay, so it was Facebook message. Here the message I sent out a few days ago:
I’m not even sure how to start this; I just know I have to do it. I am an adult survivor of childhood sexual abuse. The abuser was someone my family trusted and it spanned my childhood from the time I was 3 until I was 13. I told my mom in 3rd grade and the abuser denied it. The abuse continued, though less blatant until I was in 6th grade. It is a secret I have kept from nearly everyone my whole life. As an adult and as a mom, I struggled with this darkness inside of me. As a child I found solace in eating alone. I remember taking food to my bedroom in kindergarten to save it for later to eat alone, in the peace and safety of my bedroom. I tried to control everything around me. In high school I binged and purged, knowing that binging and not purging would affect my ability to succeed in sports. As an adult, I continued to binge but had no motivation to purge which has brought me to the place that I am now. I have lived in survival mode almost my whole life. I used food for comfort, I tried to control and plan every detail of my life, and the anxiety has been sometimes life halting. I am blessed to have been plagued by most of these in solitude. I binge alone, I plan alone, I’m anxious in the quiet of my bedroom. I am lucky that this has not plagued my relationships with my family, most importantly my husband and children. Well, with the exception of being too cautions with my kiddos once in a while. I am not blessed to be naive enough to think only the creepy looking guy on the corner is the one that will harm children. My abuser would never have been suspected in a million years. So, I live with the internal struggle of giving my children the space they need to flourish and become confident boys versus the desire for me to want to protect them from a monster they may never even encounter.
I never received help with the trauma I encountered as a child. I have started therapy with The Emily Program (which I cannot say enough good things about!), an eating disorder clinic. I’m being treated for compulsive eating. For me the shame in looking the way I do is based around the fact that I feel judged that I am uneducated about nutrition or too lazy to take care of myself or, worst of all, that I am perpetuating the cycle with my children. Know that compulsive eating isn’t about the food, but about the control and compulsions like any other eating disorder. You will never see me have a problem with food if we are eating together. My husband was totally unaware of the situation and we have been together for 12 ½ years. Know that I don’t need educating on appropriate portion sizes of this or that; compulsive eating is not about not being educated on what we SHOULD be doing. I got that. I can recite how many milligrams or grams of this and that we should have, or what a pasta portion looks like. It’s not about not knowing. I’ve been ashamed of the behavior, ashamed of the effects and ashamed of where it all is rooted for many years. By sharing, I feel a little less ashamed. A little less like I’m keeping a secret. I know now it’s not about me not having will power and that at the time of the abuse, it was a coping mechanism that helped me mentally survive. In counseling we are addressing first the trauma, then the harmful coping mechanisms. I am praying I will finally have a chance to heal. Only 4 sessions and I feel that my life is changing for the better. At this point in time, I cannot come completely out with my story. In all truthfulness, I could but it would impact a lot of people I care about in a very, very negative way. At this point, it is not something I need to do to heal.
By coming out with my story to those I trust, those I know that are faithful and will pray for healing not just within me, but within all survivors (and most importantly pray for the children who are struggling with this secret because they are scared, confused or ashamed; that they may feel love and safety within an adult to break out of the silence), I can feel like I’m making a difference or bring awareness in some very small way. I’ve learned the detrimental effects that this kind of silence and secret can have on someone. I feel lucky to be only dealing with what I am. Depression, suicide, personality disorders, eating disorders, alcoholism or drug addiction are all ways that our brain tries to cope with the trauma that was endured. Compulsive eating, though sucky, seems a bit less harmful than some of the other options. Unfortunately, if it continues it would kill me just like any other eating disorder and that is why I am seeking help.
Most importantly, educate yourself on how to educate your children about their safety. The statistics on childhood sexual abuse are staggering and to me the most staggering number is that 90% of abusers are someone that the child knows. 90%. 1 in 4 (1 in 3 depending on whose giving numbers) girls and 1 in 6 boys will be sexually abused by the time they are 18. It’s horrifying. Be educated and be aware. It’s a fine line between making a child be aware and making a child be afraid and I know none of us want the latter.
If you have read this far, thank you and I appreciate it! This is not an easy thing to come out with and, though I feel less ashamed now than a few months ago, it is still a humbling, but hopefully healing, experience to admit my faults and struggles. I wrote this to shed a small amount of light on childhood sexual abuse, even if it just means you think about and come up with a plan to speak to your child about personal safety. Also, I wrote this to (albeit quietly) help me to not feel as if I’m not keeping this secret anymore. I know I cannot announce it to the world because the consequences for others would be terrible, but I also know I can’t feel ashamed and alone in the darkness of this secret. Thanks for letting me share with you and I hope that it sparks some discussion about how to keep your own children safe.
If your heart is called to do it, spend a moment praying for those kiddos who are looking to find a way out of an ugly situation, that they may find a way to break the silence and find peace.
I know this message has a somber tone to it but know that I am in the best place of my life and I’m finally taking control back of my mind and body and that’s a beautiful thing.
I had been confiding in some close friends as soon as I started the assessments for the Emily Program and that felt good. However, I still felt like it was a secret. That feeling of keeping this secret is what has led me to this place, right now. So, I shared it. Now, it was just my first little baby step in sharing. I shared it with my dearest friends from college, some of my in-laws who are no longer living in my hometown, and lots of other moms, even though I may not be super close with them. I really felt this desire to encourage other moms to be aware and seek ways to educate their own children. I did have one slip-up and accidently sent it to another mom from my children’s daycare and I was horrified. I immediately apologized to her for having to read all that. She handled it with such incredible grace, but I still felt like an idiot. I still am not ready to share my story with everyone. I feel like I am slowly peeling back the layers of this secret. One day, I am sure of it, I will not have to police my emotions. If the moment feels right to share my story with someone I will. I feel one day coming very soon.
Okay, so back to that email. You guys, the response was INCREDIBLE! Incredible in that my friends supported me in powerful ways. Acquaintances thanked me for speaking out and told me I had such courage. I didn’t feel courageous, I felt vulnerable, but their words helped ease my anxiety. The most amazing part of the whole thing was that almost one-third of the people I sent it to responded with a sexual abuse story of their own. I suddenly did not feel so alone. Several told me they had told their spouses about the abuse but had never shared it beyond that and were surprised that I was talking so openly about it. I suddenly questioned if people thought I was seeking attention or looking for sympathy. Those intentions were so out of my mindset. I did want to share my story. I wanted to put it out in the universe. I wanted those close to me to know where I came from. I wanted to share my story in hopes that other moms or people working with kids might think twice about talking to their children. Sympathy and attention were the last things I wanted.
So, where does this leave me? Well, I feel relieved. I feel inspired. I feel I have taken a little bit of power away from the secret. It also leaves me feeling vulnerable, questioning what others think of me and wondering if I did the right thing. At the end of this day, I feel a small ray of light peeking in on my spirit.
Well, hello voice. I have missed you. You are quiet but you have a strength about you that makes me both nervous and excited. Welcome back, you’re here to stay.