One of the hardest things for me to do was to talk about what had happened to me. For 26 years I had been a locked up vault when it came to talking about the sexual abuse. Quite honestly, I didn't even know how to talk about it. Deep down inside I still felt that if I exposed the fullness of my secret that I would be looked upon in absolute disgust. I was so ashamed of this secret sin. My biggest fear was that others would see me the way I saw myself. When I looked in the mirror I saw someone who was dirty...repulsive...gross; someone who was not worthy to be loved and cared for. I settled for hiding inside my own skin, trying my best not to let anyone in to see my brokenness and heartache. I was ashamed to be me.
I was too afraid to disclose my ugliness to anyone, including the two people in my life who had proven to be safe. I trusted them the best I knew how, but that is not really saying much. I thought if I exposed too much or made one minor mistake, they would stop loving me. I could not handle the thought of them abandoning me. I desperately needed them to love me and care about me and I would do anything not to mess that up. I tried to do and say the things that I thought would make them like me and accept me. I struggled to be exactly who I thought they would want me to be so that they would love me.
The funny thing about this is that in all my attempts to be the person I thought they would love me for the most, I was missing the one person that they truly wanted me to be.... me. They simply wanted me to be me. But who was I? I had no idea who I was apart from the sexual abuse. It had become my secret identity. With every memory and every flashback my heart was flooded with shame and guilt. There was only one way to rid these painful emotions I was drowning in...I had to talk about it.
Talking about your abuse is one of the greatest challenges for any victim of sexual abuse. When you start to verbalize and put words to the horrific crime committed against you, your nightmare turns into a reality. There is no more hiding. I want to encourage you if you are in a place like this to seek out professional help. Thankfully, my dear friends strongly encouraged me to see a counselor...and by strongly encourage I mean everything short of dragging me kicking and screaming! I did not want to go, but deep down I knew I needed to. Let me tell you, it has been one of the best decisions I have made. I have a wonderful counselor who has become a dear friend to me. She loves and cares about me and is another safe person walking this journey along side of me. I have shared with her some of the most humiliating parts of my abuse, and never has she looked at me in disgust or backed her chair away from me.
I don't want you to think that this was an easy or fast process for me. Quite the opposite. It took me almost a full year to get my story out to the one person I love and trust the most in this world, my dear friend who I consider a mother to me. The more I told her though, the less power the secrets had over me. I was beginning to find the real me....the me that God fearfully and wonderfully made....the me that God knit together in my mother's womb.....the me that God looks at and calls beautiful. Sexual abuse is not my identity any longer. I am a loved and accepted child of a perfect Father, and my hope is that you will realize...you are too.
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