I AM- an Adult Survivor Of Child Sexual Abuse

It's taken me over twenty years to intellectually and emotionally recognize and accept that I was sexually abused by a trusted male relative as a young girl.  Twenty years of denial, minimization and avoidance.  Twenty years of burying the memories and the emotions because that is what I was taught to do at the time, and doing so became my go-to coping mechanism for all things conflicting; my means of survival.  I've always felt somehow "off"- incomplete, unwhole, undefinable.  I searched for meaning and wholeness externally- in relationships, religious practice and outward accomplishments, while always ignoring the internal.  I have been blessed with a loving if dysfunctional family, a committed husband, beautiful children, kindhearted friends and a successful career, yet I've felt empty and alone inside.  I've been embarrassed by those feelings- don't I have enough?  What more could I ask for?  Yet they persist, and happiness eludes me.  In fact, most emotions do.

It was not until I fell into pure crises mode- a disintegrating marriage, my husband in another relationship (caveat: we were separated), shared custody of the children, problems at work- that I began to recognize the harm not just of the abuse but also the long-term effects of the twenty years that followed.  It was not until I hit that proverbial bottom that I recognized all that was wrong, and that all roads led back to the abuse.  I'm only just beginning the journey to climb back out and forge a new road, to find the authentic me.  To find serenity.

Adult Survivor Of Child Sexual Abuse

I hate labeling myself, but I must own this one.  

Each word is loaded with meaning as I'm typing it.

Adult

I am no longer 13-14 years old.  I have control over my body, and to large extent my environment.

Survivor

For 22 years, I was a victim.  By refusing to cope with the events of my past, I allowed what happened to continuously victimize my present.  I allowed what happened to victimize my husband and my children, because I was not whole.  I allowed HIM to continuously victimize my dreams and my relationships.  NO MORE.

Child

I am not sure when it all started.  I may have been 12; definitely by the time I was 13.  I've often minimized what happened because "it's not like you were 3 or 4 years old".  It's been hard for me to recognize and accept that legally, emotionally, developmentally- yes, I was a child.  HE was the adult and it was not my fault.

Sexual Abuse

Another term I've avoided and trivialized over the last two decades.  I felt guilty labeling it for what it was because it wasn't bad enough.  He didn't rape me.  He didn't force intercourse.  He only fondled me, touched me inappropriately, exposed himself, peeped into the shower and commented on my growing body in sexual terms- "that's not sexual abuse", I told myself.  In comparison, no, it was not as traumatic physically as it could have been, but it was abuse nonetheless.  The long-term effects are the same.

Adult Survivor of Child Sexual Abuse.  That is me.

I've debated writing this.  I've debated sharing it, or keeping it anonymous.  I've worried about the reactions of others, thoughts of airing "dirty laundry", and protecting the others involved.  I still don't know to what extent I will share this, but I must.  It's not about others.  It's not about dirty laundry, and even if it is, it's mine to air.  It's not about protecting others, because I've done that for far too long already.  This is about me.  My need for healing.  My search for serenity.  If writing helps, then that is what I will do.  If my writing can help someone else along the same journey, all the better.  It's time.