Posts Tagged ‘ Christina Enevoldsen ’

Healing From Sexual Abuse: Celebrating My Victories

Oct 23rd, 2011 | By | Category: All Posts, Christina's Blog

by Christina Enevoldsen When my two-year-old grandson accomplishes anything—big or small—he celebrates.  Benjamin gets a huge grin on his face and claps his hands vigorously when he goes potty on the toilet. When he puts all his toys away, he jumps in the air and shouts, “I DIT IT!” He doesn’t hide how delighted he […]



The Truth About Blame

Sep 11th, 2011 | By | Category: All Posts, Christina's Blog

by Christina Enevoldsen Blame has a bad reputation. People say it’s useless and unproductive. It’s been accused of preventing people from moving forward. It’s been blamed for keeping people in victim mentality. I was one of those people who blamed blame. I spread rumors about blame, believing them to be true. I quoted things like: […]



Overcoming Sexual Abuse: My Healing or My Marriage?

Aug 23rd, 2011 | By | Category: All Posts, Christina's Blog

by Christina Enevoldsen I saw myself standing next to a long line of people waiting to have their requests fulfilled. I wasn’t in the line; I was standing to the side, waiting for permission to get in the line. I wasn’t sure if it was the sea of humanity who decided if I was allowed […]



Is Overcoming Sexual Abuse Really Possible?

Jul 31st, 2011 | By | Category: All Posts, Christina's Blog

by Christina Enevoldsen I hate blood and gore, but I love watching medical shows. When they show mangled flesh, I have to cover my eyes. It’s hard to imagine all the pain the person is suffering and even if they can be saved, the struggle that recovery requires. Sometimes I think it would be easier to let the […]



Straight Talk to Parents About Protecting Children From Sexual Abuse

Jul 17th, 2011 | By | Category: All Posts, Articles

by Christina Enevoldsen I come from a long line of parents who didn’t protect their children from sexual abuse. My maternal and paternal grandparents failed to guard my parents; my parents didn’t protect me (my father was my primary sexual abuser); then I failed to protect my children. I’ve written about some of my own […]



My Fear of Being Alone

Jul 5th, 2011 | By | Category: All Posts, Christina's Blog

by Christina Enevoldsen I wrote a fictional story about a little girl being sexually abused by her father. It was for a project I was working on and I didn’t intend for it to be autobiographical, but when I came to the part where the child was lying in bed listening for her tormentor’s footsteps, […]



Grieving & Celebrating Father’s Day

Jun 17th, 2011 | By | Category: All Posts, Diablog--Multi-Person Blog

by Bethany, Christina Enevoldsen, Linda Pittman and Jennifer Stuck Bethany: Father’s Day feels so empty to me–like one of those holidays like Flag Day or Secretary’s Day. Why should I pay attention to those? I don’t have a flag, a secretary or a father. My dad is in prison for sexually abusing me for most […]



My Healing Journey: Stumbling and Getting Back Up

Jun 12th, 2011 | By | Category: All Posts, Christina's Blog

by Christina Enevoldsen As the co-founder of an organization that deals with healing from abuse, I’m supposed to be very enthusiastic about healing. I’m the one who yells “Hooray!” for those small victories and I spur on the weary survivor. Most of the time, I love that. I do it whole-heartedly. But what happens when […]



Confessions of a Child Molester’s Wife

Mar 12th, 2011 | By | Category: All Posts, Christina's Blog

by Christina Enevoldsen When my daughter was eight years old, she spent the night at a friend’s house. She and her friend spent hours swimming in their community pool and Bethany came home with her face, arms and legs red and burning. I was irate that the girl’s mother allowed Bethany to be exposed to […]



Chocolate-Layered Addiction

Feb 13th, 2011 | By | Category: All Posts, Christina's Blog

by Christina Enevoldsen When I was ten, a psychologist who worked for the school district took me out of class to talk to me. I had always known there was something wrong with me; I knew I was different, marked in some way. I was sure that when people looked at me, they recognized that […]