The Strength & Courage of One Survivor
Wow, what strength! What courage!
I just read a
story about a woman’s journey into the police station to report her childhood
sexual abuse & making a police statement to report her step-father. As I read each word on the screen, it was as
if I was right there with her. I could
feel her pain, panic, and trembling body.
I understood her self-doubt.
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| Fear and the Roar of Freedom |
It is terribly
frightening for Survivors to tell “Their Story”. I never reported my father for the sexual
abuse. But that doesn’t mean I never thought about doing just that. I personally think that it takes “the arms of
Jesus” to carry a child (or an adult) through the process of bringing charges
against a parent for the abuse they suffered.
I’m not trivializing the strength of others who file reports against
non-family members. I only know about
incest, my father, years of hypervigilance and silence about what was
happening.
Each time my
father would walk into a room where I was, he would make it a point to brush up
against my breasts with his hands. My skin crawls just remembering it. Over & over again. Day after day. Anytime my husband does the same thing, I
become a robot slapping his hand faster than a person can blink. Sometimes I
don’t even realize that I’ve hit him.
When I see a
man licking his lips as he eyes a voluptuous woman, I want to throw up. My father made those same expressions toward
me at a young age. When I became
interested in boys and dating as a teenager, my father routinely called me a
slut. BUT IT WAS OK FOR HIM TO RAM HIS
COCK IN MY MOUTH & SHOOT HIS LOAD. My
inner child is silently screaming.
Memories are flooding my body.
There is a
special kind of courage for a child or adult to make a police report of sexual abuse
against a parent. Imagine walking
through fire KNOWING you will get burned.
There’s no place to run, but you know what must be done. Will anyone be there on the other side
welcoming you for going through the flames?
You have already been through so much pain. How much more can you
take? When does the madness end?
My father
passed away last year at the age of 88.
I’ll admit it; I struggle with the feelings of love/hate for him. After all, he was my father. As I write this tears begin to fall down my
cheeks. One difficult part of dealing
with sexual abuse by a parent is the feeling of being unloved. A father (or mother) should love their
children. Every child is a precious gift
from God, and should be loved & cherished as such. NOT as a sexual toy for their own distorted
pleasure.
A child should
never have to go through what this woman, who walked into the police station, went
through. The emotional pain of sexual abuse lessens with time. But it NEVER completely goes
away. Doing the right thing, reporting
the abuse to the authorities, telling Your Story; is the BEST thing a Survivor
can do for “the child” of yesterday.
Blessings to
all Survivors of Childhood Sexual Abuse
The storm has passed. See the rainbow?
It’s beautiful. Life is beautiful.
And you are beautiful too.
© IAMicried
Visions of Rainbows
5/31/2013
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