My 6 Year Old Son Wants To See A Penis Integrating Fear and Love – A Sexual Abuse Thriver Story Underneath the Iceberg

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Integrating Fear and Love – A Sexual Abuse Thriver Story Underneath the Iceberg

Revelations are coming about the most common sexual abuse of children than anyone wants to know. These issues continue to emerge as a worldwide social problem facing you. It seems that those who are shocked and shocked and those who are still looking for ways to the courageous, who lived this experience, make judgments, laws and social decisions without understanding this lived experience. Many like me, who have experienced childhood sexual abuse, quietly go about their lives attracted to other wounded souls who they can love and care for when they haven’t learned to do it for themselves. . This ability to love and give to others is a detached wisdom of the indwelling spirit but until it is integrated it will not help the bearer. It also keeps us quiet because of the fear of others who so easily express their opinions about something they know nothing but what they have learned from books and research. Although research is helpful, it is not even the tip of the iceberg of the thoughts and feelings that need an island of safety before they can emerge and be expressed. Research gives us ideas about a particular group but not about what we experienced live. So this article is not about generalizing to all. It is my story, my struggle to find my voice and give words to what I believe lies beneath the iceberg of my life.

I believe that I came into this world with a spirit of love. I loved life. I loved people. I loved my family. I was afraid of my family. We had good times and bad times. They confused me. They hurt me. They did what they knew. I did anything I could do for them. From what I was told I was the center of my mother, grandmother, great-grandmother and grandfather’s world. In conversations later in life my stepfather told me that he thought I was spoiled and that he had to take me in. My parents were divorced before I was born. I had childhood adventures with my father who is now dead. About a year or so later my mother married my stepfather. In my memory it was the December after my 2nd birthday during a drive-in movie while my mom was having a baby shower for my sister that the teasing started. My mind flashes to bits and pieces of that memory that I didn’t leave. I remember being confused at first but my stepfather’s face showed such happiness and I thought I must have done something good. I was so excited when I went home I tried to tell my mother but she was too busy. The abuse continued until I left home at 17 years old. I don’t remember how often it happened. I don’t think that’s important. I remember the first time I went in there and I started bleeding. I went to tell him and he told me to go tell my mother. She went on to tell me that this is what happens when girls grow up. It didn’t make sense to me because in my mind it had more to do with what my stepfather did to me than growing up. But her face was happy and it seemed to mean something to her so I accepted what she said and denied my own valid knowledge.

Fast forward to about age 13. My mom found my stepdad in my bed one morning and all hell broke loose. I heard her say things like ‘You told me you’d never have another woman’ saying it was because I was wearing short nightgowns, my sisters coming out of their rooms to hysterical and frozen with fear about ‘what did I do wrong.’ Later my mother confirmed that it was my fault and told me that I did not respect her but I had to respect my stepfather. The situation left me feeling completely responsible. My stepfather told me that if my mother wanted to tell her that it had only been going on for a while because she didn’t want to have sex with him. She never asked. (I’m not sure if it occurred to me that they were having sex. I think I grew up believing it was between us even though I knew he was going on with my stepsister (I didn’t learn until years later that it had been there. I worried my younger step-sister too.) I asked myself how long it had been. going I realized that it had been going on throughout my childhood. The good thing that came out of the situation was that I was now allowed to say no. It never occurred to me to say no. (My stepmother didn’t tell him when they were teenagers and he stopped.)

Oh, I’ll take that back. There was an incident when I was about 5 or 6 when my Nannie found me and a couple of my girl friends acting like we were boys and we had a penis. She was so angry and then she went and told my mother. Their faces were very angry. It really scared me and confused me, because my stepfather pointed his penis at me and put it between my legs. I was just working out of my experience. Neither saw my behavior as red flags. I also remember when I was in the theater and I heard my Nanny calling me. He covered my mouth and told me to be fine. It wasn’t so much that I wanted to get away from him but my Nannie was everything to me and I wanted to go to her. I remember realizing that she didn’t know what we were doing and he didn’t want her to know. I didn’t know what to do with that information. I thought everyone knew.

Other things happened during my childhood such as physical abuse, emotional separation, and many losses and moves. My iceberg is made up of so many issues that it’s hard to know what contributed to what. I survived the physical and sexual abuse. I have no physical scars at all. Most of the trauma I had to grow myself was trying to leave messages and confusing experiences within a family that seemed to leave the world as an integrated beaver and make sense. of them. We were involved in church, scouting, school activities and had friends. I think that’s why I see life as both and rather than either or. We all had it. I also think that the confusing and unanswered questions contributed not only to my own guilt but also to my shame.

I remember after we got involved in the church and I learned that my sins could be washed away I was so happy. I admitted that I had sinned (I didn’t say what I thought my sins were but that I had sinned) and I accepted Jesus in my heart. I felt a freedom and a burden lifted after I was baptized. But, the shame came back. Sometimes I would baptize myself while taking a bath and think about the dirty feelings going down the drain. I could not be like

To let go of my feelings that I wasn’t okay. God could not forgive me. He could forgive others. I know now that it was me who was not forgiving me. In my distorted thinking I associated being a service to other people as the punishment of my life. I think that belief came from not feeling like I did enough for my family. I couldn’t get my parents to stop yelling and fighting and I couldn’t get them to stop hitting my sisters. I could not force my mother to be a mother. Before I turned 18 the belief in my failures ran my life and I could accept any abuse as proof of God’s judgment on me and my ‘lot in life’.

Through the years I have confronted my parents and we have come to terms with each other. My humanity needed them and because I did not get my legitimate needs met from them I lived in great fear of abandonment and rejection. This fear organized my beliefs and motivated me from a place of fear. The spirit of my love could not abandon them and at some level they understood me as children lost in groups of adults. Now I am learning to give myself that spirit of love. I am learning to nurture myself and give myself the care I deserve. I understand that it was not God who forgave me; it was me who did not forgive myself. I think it was easier to accept and accept the blame and have the illusion of power and control than to accept my terrible feelings of helplessness, powerlessness, shame and sadness. The emotions were too much to bear so they had to go somewhere. Not only do children easily accept the blame for adult failures, they resist any attempt to tell them otherwise. I see it every day in my private practice.

It is a challenging journey from fear that keeps you trapped in self-pity to accepting and affirming your innocence and returning to the Love of your spirit.

Sexual abuse is not just about sex, it is a journey to bring fear back to Love. Sexual abuse is not only about sexual acts but about what happens after exposure. How sensitive can others be if they don’t understand the dynamics of this issue and that experiences are individual, not collective? Each person’s thoughts, feelings and experiences must be respected and recognized as well as their continuous integration. I was sexually abused and it’s not who I am; that’s what happened to me. Now I am giving voice to these experiences to add to the choir.

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