I think I used to wonder this whenever I went to yet another survivor meeting. It’s like, we all knew why we were there, but no one ever dared to say what exactly happened. We knew we’d been sexually abused but we never shared the abuse stories.
And this is understandable in a way, for many it’s too painful, embarrassing, they’re ashamed even when in the company of survivors. It’s like an unwritten rule that many horrid unspeakable sexual acts were done to us, but we’ll never say out loud what.
I also know that I haven’t talked about it here much if at all. But I now think it kind of is important, not for the sickness factor (“oh, look what happened to me! Disgusting, right?? I bet y’all can’t top this!”) but for our own sake. Why should we remain quiet? Also, sometimes when I go on other people’s blogs I often wonder what happened to them, but people generally don’t talk about it. Only those who’ve been through really, really horrid unthinkable abuse speak about it. A Piece of Cake and The Sum of My Parts come to mind as examples.
The rest of us with the “routine” (excuse my terrible usage of words here) abuse; the touching, the kissing, the lewd speak, the masturbation in front of us…you know, the stuff that’s absolutely fucking detrimental to a human being, but isn’t “horrific” enough to be life threatening, doesn’t leave visible scars and broken bones…That’s the kind of abuse no one talks about.
Well, you know what, it happened to me. I was sexually abused by my father from early childhood to when my parents divorced at around 9 or 10, and it never left anything physical on my body. I am really having a hard time remembering what happened – I repressed all of my childhood until about 9 years ago when I had a flashback into the abuse and I “remembered”, after which a shitty ass fucking doctor put me on antidepressants and the flashbacks stopped, and until I started Trauma Therapy, I didn’t remember anything new – but I have always been pretty sure that I was a “virgin” (as in intact hymen) until I voluntarily lost it at 17 to a German exchange student. So nothing “really bad” happened to me.
Yet, I feel like it was bad. Just yesterday I remembered more and more about an incident that happened in a sauna (in Finland, everyone has a sauna inside their apartments, so we also had one in our two-bed place) where he touched my vagina while he masturbated (I was all sorts of fucked up yesterday when I remembered).
So I know pretty much that my father talked dirty to me, he masturbated and spent time naked in front of me, he kissed me and inappropriately touched me with his hands and mouth in and around my vagina and chest area, and I have a feeling something was also at some point inserted into me but I don’t remember when and what.
So that’s the abuse I endured and survived.
That’s it, just wanted to get that out of my chest. Have a beautiful weekend. I hope no one was triggered by this by the way!!!