It has been said, "time heals all wounds". I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, (protecting its sanity), covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone."
April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month
Please Get Involved and FLIP THE SWITCH
I originally wrote this just after the 2018 ESPYS when the ‘Sister survivors’ accepted the Arthur Ashe Courage Award. In listening to their speeches, these amazing women helped me to feel less alone in my own challenges.
After I was married and had a baby, my story came to light when my step-father admitted to my mother what he had done to me as a child. Though his disclosure to her was in some way a gift–that I would no longer have to keep this secret bottled up inside me, ultimately, the consequence of that ‘gift’ was alienation. Though my mother had abandoned me in many ways after my father’s death, this confessed truth was the final blow. After learning of his professed acts, she treated me as though I was in some way to blame for capturing her husband’s ‘affections’. I share my story now in hopes that I may be able to help someone else who has lived through similar experiences. Your truth does matter.
Thank you.
…“The ripple affect of our actions or inactions can be enormous, spanning generations. Perhaps the greatest tragedy of this nightmare, is that it could have been avoided. Predators thrive in silence. It is all too common for people to choose to not get involve. Whether you act or do nothing, you are shaping the world that we live in, impacting others. All we needed is one adult to have the integrity to stand between us and Larry Nassar. If just one adult had listened, believed and acted, the people standing before you, on this stage, would have never met him. Too often, abusers and enablers perpetuate suffering by making survivors feel that their truth doesn’t matter. To all the survivors out there, don’t let anyone rewrite your story. Your truth does matter. You matter, and you are not alone. We all face hardships. If we choose to listen and we choose to act with empathy, we can draw strength from each other. We may suffer alone, but we survive together. Thank you.”— Aly Raisman
MY TRUTH
I am a survivor.
1965, 1979, 1985–Early years of significance in my life.
1965–I stand beside my best friend, a collie who I named Missy.
I stand proud. I had just given my bangs a trim and was quite proud of the job I had done, thank you very much!
I stand strong. The summer before my fifth birthday; with attitude and the belief that I can do and be anything.
1979–The day I graduated high school.
This was truly an achievement in many ways. The sexual abuse I suffered while I was younger migrated to physical abuse as I got older. Shortly after a severe beating at the hands of my step-father, when I was 16 years old, I moved into my own apartment and supported myself through the remaining years of high school. I didn’t attend a prom, I didn’t go on a senior trip and I didn’t date any high school boys, but I did graduate high school, with honors. I suffered from depression and had no sense of where to go or what to do after high school. I felt lost and alone.
1985–I became a mother.
My dreams had come true….well, sort of. My real dream was to become an opera singer. I was classically trained in voice. I had competed and done well in a number of competitions, but had to give up singing when I moved out on my own. (I didn’t have the finances or the time to continue down that path.) My next dream was to become a commercial interior designer. I gave that up when I married and supported my husband while he attended business school at the University of Montana. So now, I would make a difference by raising a family and being a good wife. I was riddled with anxiety and had developed an irrational fear of failure.
MY HOPE
My hope is that if you are a survivor, my story might help you feel less alone. My wish is that if you are aware of abuse; child or adult, male or female, that you will FLIP THE SWITCH and get involved. My desire is that if you don’t understand, that you have empathy and kindness in your heart. Please don’t judge or label. Stigma silences the abused and empowers the abusers.
Low self-esteem was a primary consequence of my compromised childhood. My choices in men reflected this truth and I found myself in abusive relationships more than once. Fortunately, life has given me many blessings. After a life time of disappointments and wrong turns, I got another chance at happiness. I married a wonderful man who loves me for who I am and gives me all that I need to feel whole and safe. Life is good.
MY STORY
Things in my life took a dramatic turn just before my 5th birthday. My collie, Missy, was hit by a truck and died. A few months later, my father died in a violent accident while working in a Milwaukee train sub-station. We were living in a house situated next to the sub-station and could no longer live there after his death, so we moved back to Missoula immediately.
Shortly after our move, my mom began to date one particular man. (They had met at church, before my dad’s death.) Their relationship became serious very quickly and they were soon married. This new man in our life took an immediate liking to me. He had a special song which he would sing to me all the time, so often, in fact, that I knew all of the lyrics to the song for years after. Additionally, he would take me aside for special talks, whenever my mom wasn’t around.
At the tender age of 6 years old, my step-father was sexually abusing me. I was too young to understand what was happening or why I felt afraid and alone. Over time, these early feelings of anxiety and abandonment evolved into feelings of embarrassment, guilt, sadness and shame. I began to withdraw and I cried often. Adults in my life assumed that I was just grieving for my father. As time went on, teachers expressed concern and had me meet with school counselors. When the school counselors where unable to glean what was wrong, they alerted my mother who dismissed their concerns with indifference.
Time marched on.
I have carried my truth-hidden, as best as I could, from public consumption. I have been fearful of being judged, labeled and discarded because of this truth. I have felt less-than and have tried to lock my truth away, wishing I could will it away or paint over it with a new truth, one that was nicer to share. Sadly, life doesn’t work that way. I have many masks, and I am a master at selling them, but my truth prevails.
MY REALITY
I could describe the things that happened to me in detail; when they happened, how often, where, for how long, and so on, but I don’t think that is really relevant any more. The sexual abuse I suffered began over fifty years ago and I have lived a lot of life since then. What I think is important today is to acknowledge that though life has moved forward, the feelings that stem from the abuse continue to linger–A life time of emotions which have haunted and plagued how I feel about myself and the people around me. Over time, I have learned to navigate and compensate while living with skewed perceptions. For me, it is similar to having a disability.
I am a perfectionist, not because I need to impress, but because I need to prove that I am in some way worthy. Trust is an elusive concept for me and I lack confidence in what I think I see and know.
Thank you Aly Raisman and all of the other athletes and women who have stepped up and spoken your truth. Thank you to all of the ME TOO women who have said “enough” and “time’s up.” Your courage and example have given me the strength to share my truth and has helped me to feel less alone.
