Inspired by Number 14 - Part One

My husband recently got to meet Number 14 himself, Theo Fleury. I was beyond excited. Not because I am a hockey fan but because I deeply admire all of the work Mr. Fleury has done for survivors of sexual abuse. I threatened to crash the meeting but in the end was satisfied to get my book autographed and sent along a personal note to let him know how much all of his work means to me.

I started my blog to talk about my journey of healing. It’s been full of highs and lows but I finally feel connected to my purpose in life. As I reflected on my husband’s meeting I thought about how sexual abuse has affected me.

I was a victim of sexual abuse as a child.  But I was a SURVIVOR! Or so I told myself. The truth is I made a lot of excuses, “the abuse wasn’t that bad”, “I’ve been through counseling”, “I am a completely well-adjusted 30 something, with a job and a family and a white picket fence”. But I couldn’t even say the words “sexual abuse” out loud. When my oldest was born I felt the fear and shame of it like a vice grip. Years ago my counselor had told me it would probably be like this, at significant life events I may feel the pain of the abuse again, over and over, and she was right. As I navigated the many changes of adolescence and adulthood I would come face to face with it. I went back to counseling here and there, but mostly I told myself that I was over it, I was better and I was healed.

I didn’t fully heal until very recently. In fact, writing this is a part of that healing. Why am I so afraid to add my voice to all of those who are brave enough to stand up and say they were abused but they won’t be victims any longer?  Why do I feel fearful that people might think differently about me? I thought a lot about Number 14, about how brave he was just to bear it all in his book and in his life.

For a long time I told myself that the abuse wasn’t that bad, but as a mother when I look at my daughters would I really tell myself that a grown man touching them was “not that bad”. And it goes well beyond the act itself, it’s how someone you know and are supposed to trust can betray you in the most hurtful and personal way. It’s how they show up at your house and eat Sunday dinner with your parents. It’s how they act like you are somehow special to them, chosen, when you feel dirty and disgusting. It’s that, despite knowing you should say something you remain silent, as if insignificant gifts and candy are somehow enough to buy your loyalty. It’s that they pretend to be a fine, upstanding and educated citizen. When you come from coal miner parents.  It’s that they are somehow entitled to you and can have you if they want you. Its deception and deceit and secret keeping. Its thinking that I am less than, dirty, used and insignificant.

When I started working with my Shaman, Sarah, all of this came up in one of my sessions. I believe she asked me why I felt I deserved to be betrayed. I heard the answer clear as day in my head “sexual abuse” but I shut it out and assured myself that I was over it. I didn’t tell Sarah what I had heard, though I am sure she knew, and instead sat with it for a few days at home before finally telling her. After that I attended a program called “Healing Grief and Trauma”, a program Sarah had designed, aimed at helping people work through the trauma in their life. That program changed my life.