by Don Enevoldsen

I normally don’t comment on OSA since Christina and I often discuss the subject matter of her posts and the limited contributions I could make, when relevant, are reflected in her words. This time, I want to add some thoughts from a perspective few others could have. The comment posted by Christina’s mother, Mary Schamer, on “My Story by Christina Enevoldsen” the day before Christina’s birthday, prompted excellent comments from many people. One in particular caught my attention. Pinky, speaking to Mary, said, “…because it is as if you have read the manual on how to be an abusive parent.”

That observation, accurate as it is, was based on only a few lines from Mary, typed into the OSA comments. I am in a position to add to Pinky’s statement from firsthand observation and knowledge. I know Mary and Fred, Christina’s dad, very well. I knew them even before I knew Christina.

Mary’s comment inspired Christina to write a blog post in response with a letter to her mother. “It’s Not About You, Mom” and now I’m motivated to write my own letter to Mary.

The more I read about abusive family systems, the more I find that Fred and Mary fit the profile, as Pinky pointed out, as though the profile was intended to describe them. So, for Mary’s enlightenment, I feel that I should share some of the reasons why every time she and Fred open their mouths, I am more convinced than ever that Christina’s account is dead on accurate.

To Mary:

I know you have studiously avoided this information, and since you seem committed to your lies, I don’t expect this to change your position, but here are some facts about abusive families.

From the outside, they look like other healthy families. They fit in well with the community and are often very active in church. The abuse is hidden. When abuse is exposed, people around them always find it difficult to believe. Abusive families are generally admired by everyone else. The fact that you and Fred are in church leadership and greatly respected does not remove you from suspicion.

Often, the abuse is even hidden from the family members themselves. Each one has ways of shielding themselves from the truth. They may redefine things they see, hear or experience as a way to explain away the abuse. “Grandpa has always been quirky like that” or “Aunt Jane just wanted to make sure Johnny was really clean” or “Dad just loves me so much that he can’t stop touching me”. They believe they are normal because they’ve never known anything else.

Abusive family members feel loyalty to the family, showing the rest of the world the image of a caring, strong and devoted family unit. Even victims of abuse fit this description, which is why it is so difficult for them to break free and open up about the truth. They are trained from a very young age to believe that telling is a horrible thing and it’s often too horrible to admit the truth to themselves. Those who talk—even if they feel a great sense of relief—are frequently plagued by overwhelming guilt. Before they are able to talk freely, they usually have to get away from the abusive family and its influences for a while or somehow find healthy support outside the family. Since outside relationships, especially healthy ones, are so foreign to the victim of abuse, that’s not easy or common. Frequently, other relationships aren’t encouraged and in particularly dysfunctional families, they are forbidden.

It’s no coincidence, then, that Christina didn’t start talking about her incest very openly until she married me and we moved 400 miles away. It was extremely unlikely she would say much before that. That is quite consistent with the dynamics of abusive families.

It’s especially telling the way you, Mary, handled the conflict with Christina that eventually led to the demise of the relationship. In a healthy family, conflict is allowed. Boundaries are respected. In abusive families—or any abusive system for that matter—questioning authority is never allowed. When Christina came to you to ask you for a healthier, more honest relationship, you treated it like it was a personal affront. You refused to enter into meaningful dialogue, choosing instead to hide behind pathetic protestations that you are supposed to be honored as a parent.

By your account, all was well before that. Yet this is an indication of a history of abandonment that Christina writes about, the things you claim are lies. Do you recognize yourself in any of this?

Each family member in an abusive family takes on one of three roles—Abuser, Denier (also called an Enabler or Bystander) or Victim. Let’s take them in that order.

Abuser

Victim mentality is the driving force behind abuse. Abusers don’t believe in equal power. In an abuser’s mind, equal power doesn’t exist. The only two options in interactions between people is to power over them or they power over you.

Abusers are driven by fear. They have no security in their own identity and they lack a sense of personal power. That’s why they are so easily threatened, even by very little slights. Someone cutting them off in traffic or failing to return a greeting is enough to set them off.

When their sense of power is threatened, they feel a need to power over someone else. Since they have so little self esteem, they don’t “pick on someone their own size”. They restore their sense of importance through choosing someone smaller or weaker or in some other way less powerful then themselves. In this way, they transfer the pain and the shame to their victim.

There is much debate over whether or not all sexual abusers were sexually abused. Certainly, all abusers were victimized in some way, hence, their victim mentality. I don’t know if Fred was sexually abused as a child, but by his own account, he was certainly physically and emotionally abused and learned the “rules” of the abusive system.

I always found it odd, and a little disconcerting, that in virtually every conversation, Fred reminisced in lengthy detail about the women he had dated in his life, even when you were in the room. His obvious pride in his many romantic conquests expressed in the most inappropriate venues, fits the profile of an abuser. His statements reinforce his “power over” way of thinking, not only with the women from his past, but in his devaluing treatment of you, his wife. His willingness to discuss those things in your presence says, “I revel in my past sexual relationships and it’s more important to me to impress others than to protect your feelings.”

Abusers also develop unnaturally strong bonds with other abusers. A few days after Christina’s ex-husband, David, was arrested, Fred called me. Among the many outrageous things he said was this gem: “I’ve known David for a lot of years. As a matter of fact, as you know, even Christina will tell you, I kind of adopted him, with the family, in a situation like that, he was actually more of a son to me than my son, Tom.”

In fact, he chose David over both of his children. When David verbally assaulted Christina in front of both of you, Fred openly took David’s side and reminded Christina, “Your husband loves you.” After Christina divorced David for his financial and emotional abuse, Fred supported David and even preferred to spend holidays with him.

Abusers protect other abusers. The whole reason Fred called me was to defend David and try to mitigate the serious charges facing him. He kept trying to find out how much money we wanted to call off the arrest. He not only defended the man who molested Bethany, his own granddaughter, he tried to point the blame in Bethany’s direction. Here are a few of the comments he made in that regard:

In response to me pointing out that Bethany had been molested for twelve years: “Let’s do away with that.”

And a few seconds later: “You know, all of this thing, when you really stop and think about it, is just being judgmental and all this other stuff. It doesn’t—it’s not making it.”

And a little later: “Now, how badly is he hurting someone?”

And, “How the hell is he gonna bother her?”

And: “But he hasn’t bothered anybody.”

All of this in denial of David’s defiance and his reaction to the accusation that he had continued molesting Bethany, which was, “Yeah, so?”

Then Fred added: “If you weren’t so screwed up in your head and so convinced that Bethany is the perfect little person…”

And regarding all of us: You guys are to be, being the guys that are trying to screw up somebody’s life.”

Every one of these statements scream that Fred is an abuser. They fit the profile with remarkable accuracy.

In Fred’s mind, Bethany was the abuser and David was the victim. He dismissed the twelve years of incest perpetrated on Bethany and thought the horrible part of this family drama was that David, the child molester, was in jail.

The Denier

Deniers are the members of the family who turn a blind eye to the abuse and defend the Abuser, making exactly the kinds of accusations you have leveled at Christina.

Deniers believe the best way to survive is to ingratiate themselves to the Abuser and keep a low profile. They, too, are driven by victim mentality. They either “hide” by staying out of the way or by making it very clear to the Abusers that they won’t interfere with the abuse. Deniers are the most vehement and loyal supporters to Abusers. They go to great lengths to cover the abuse as though their life depends on it.

Deniers are masters of offering trite phrases in response to pain. “Don’t dwell on it,” “Let bygones be bygones,” “Forgive and forget,” and “You can’t change the past” are common platitudes deniers deliver when confronted with sexual abuse.

I don’t have to look any further than your remarks on Christina’s recent post, but a better example might be your letter to Christina on February 15, 2009, in which you state that she “dredged up old, dead history.” In your words, Mary: “I call it carrying an offense and not getting healed or forgiving. Isn’t it about time that you take it to the cross and leave it there? Why do you want to carry that stuff in your heart?” That’s but one example from many that fit the profile of a Denier.

The responses of Deniers are designed to protect the Abuser and are often completely self-involved and ignorant. They show a lack of compassion for their children and a selfish focus on their own lives.

The first time Christina mentioned to you that she had been molested, you ignored it. Fred shouted from the adjacent room, “No, you weren’t,” and you simply continued with what you were doing as though nothing had happened. Wouldn’t a statement like that normally get a mother’s attention? Even when you expressed, over the next few years, that you accepted the truth that Christina had been molested, you never once asked who had done it. One would think an issue of that kind of serious nature would at least warrant some curiosity.

Your self-focus was also evident when David was arrested. When you did talk to Christina, you had no concern for your granddaughter, except to accuse her of destroying the family. Instead, all you could talk about was how inconvenienced you and Fred were because you had to end your vacation early.

During that conversation, when Christina asked you if you believed that David had sexually abused Bethany, your reply was, “I don’t know.” For years, you accepted that Bethany’s father had molested her, yet when there was a cost to you and you had to either take the side of the Victim or the Abuser, you chose the Abuser. Your self-centeredness is typical of the profile of a Denier.

Deniers often viciously attack the Victim to protect the Abuser. Your words were: “Christina is using these accusations as a way of hurting her parents and getting the attention she craves. So sad that she is willing to create a fantasy world where she is the hero / victim. Will she ever come to her senses and ask for forgiveness?”

Several of your letters and emails have repeated these and similar claims. In addition, when you came to the hearings regarding David’s case, you chose to sit on the side of the courtroom with David’s supporters, in opposition to Bethany, demonstrating agreement with Fred in the same contempt for your granddaughter’s pain as you have for your daughter. In these comments and actions, you fit the profile of a Denier.

Victim

Victims tend to become people pleasers and unhealthy caretakers. Child victims of incest families take on the responsibility of keeping the system together. It’s the child’s job to take care of the sexual and emotional needs of the sexual abuser(s) and also to care for the emotional needs of the Deniers. When they are children, this is a matter of survival, but the trait becomes ingrained and carries over into adulthood.

In Christina’s life, she protected your emotional well-being by trying to be the perfect daughter and by pretending to be happy so your peace would not be disturbed. That continued even into adulthood when she sought to spare your feelings. When you never asked her who abused her, that was in indication that she was supposed to continue protecting you.

Victims often suffer from insomnia. For as long as we have been married, Christina has only rarely slept through the night uninterrupted. For many years, she woke almost every morning at about the time that Fred used to come into her bedroom when she was a child.

Victims have an excessive need to control their surroundings. Christina feels great stress when things are not in order. Clutter of any kind makes her feel very unsettled and she cannot relax until they are cleaned up. This desire for control is likely one of the factors that prompted her long standing interest and career in interior design. It enables her to control her environment in a way she never could as a child.

Victims make unhealthy choices in members of the opposite sex, frequently marrying Abusers. Nothing more needs to be said than pointing out that Christina married David. A choice, by the way, which was driven by an intense desire to get out of your house as quickly as possible.

Victims often act out, especially as children. Sitting around with the family, I heard many stories about things Christina did as a child, like the time she shaved off her eyebrows. That kind of behavior does not happen in a vacuum. It indicates something is seriously wrong. Children just don’t normally behave that way.

Since marrying Christina, I’ve observed characteristics in her life that are consistent with the profile of a victim of childhood sexual abuse. Her blog posts recount the numerous effects of her abuse and I’m witness to the effects.

That’s the book on a typical abusive family, and remarkably it’s the same as the book on the Schamer family. When I put all of these observations together, it is clear that your family fits the profile of an abusive family remarkably well. Fred is a stereotypical example of an Abuser. You are a stereotypical example of a Denier. Christina was a stereotypical example of a Victim.

The only thing that doesn’t fit the normal pattern is that Christina has escaped the family’s influence and has worked to become whole. Knowing what I have learned about sexual abuse in the past few years, I can see the traits very clearly. If I had no connection whatsoever with Christina, other than as an outsider looking in, I would be absolutely convinced that Christina has told the truth and that you have not. The evidence all supports her. It’s as though they wrote the book specifically about you.

Now that you’ve heard my experience and thoughts about this, I’d love to hear yours. Please comment below and don’t forget to subscribe to the comments so you can continue to partake in the discussion. If you would like to protect your privacy, you don’t have to use your real name. Email addresses are never made public.

Related Posts:
Power Play: How to Recognize an Abuser
The Wolf in Shepherd’s Clothing: The “Benevolent” Abuser
What We Wish Our Parents Understood About Our Sexual Abuse
Straight Talk to Parents About Protecting Children From Sexual Abuse
Peace and Protection From Abuse

Don Enevoldsen is a writer, pastor and the co-founder of Counter Thought, Inc., a non-profit dedicated to non-religious, biblical dialogue challenging the abusive system that is so often part of traditional and accepted church life. To members of OSA, he is best known for one of his most fulfilling roles in life as Christina’s husband.

by Christina Enevoldsen

Yesterday was my 46th birthday. Birthdays prompt me to reflect on my life—where I’ve come from and where I am now. Some of those thoughts included the woman who gave birth to me. My mother walked out of my life a few years ago and adamantly denies that my father sexually abused me, but it appears she was thinking of me too since she left a comment on my blog post, My Story by Christina Enevoldsen:

“Christina has dreamed up her sexual abuse–accusing her father of horrible, evil behaviors that far, far from his character. Christina is using these accusations as a way of hurting her parents and getting the attention she craves. So sad that she is willing to create a fantasy world where she is the hero / victim. Will she ever come to her senses and ask for forgiveness? That is the first step to real healing…“

Though it wasn’t the typical warm, fuzzy sentiments that other mothers might send, and she most certainly didn’t intend to help me in any way, this turned out to be a key to my favorite gift this year—a gift that came from me.

This is my response:

To Mom,
It hasn’t been easy to heal from all the damage you caused me. All my life, you walked away from me and I chased after you. I thought if I was good enough, you’d finally love me. When I asked for a more authentic relationship, you insisted that I was the one with the problem. Your rejection told me I wasn’t worth the effort. That was my fear all my life—that if I stopped performing for you, you’d abandon me. I was afraid of being confronted with the truth I already knew in my heart—that you didn’t really love me and never would.

I was hurt and angry about the ways you betrayed me, not only in my childhood, but throughout our relationship. When I finally acknowledged to myself the ways that you failed me, I wanted you to feel the same pain I felt. Mostly, it wasn’t to actually cause you to suffer, but so you would understand. I thought if you only knew what I felt, you’d have compassion for me and maybe even love me.

When you accused me of dreaming up these things about Dad because I wanted to hurt you, I realized how much I’m over you. I don’t feel pain over your abandonment anymore and I don’t have any need for you to understand. I don’t want an apology and I don’t care if you believe me.

If you came to your senses and suddenly saw the truth and admitted your gross error, I’d get no satisfaction from it. I hope, for your sake, that you do deal with your issues, but not so I can benefit from your healing.

All the things I needed from you, I learned to give to myself. Mostly, when I think of you, I feel nothing. There is only one thing that I can think of that still angers me, but not because of how it affects me, but how it continues to harm others. You present yourself as an elegant woman of God, but you are rotten inside. You deceive all those people at church by the masks you wear. I’m saddened by how you use the adoration of those people to exploit them, the same way you did to me.

I used to wish we could have an honest conversation, apart from the religious rhetoric that you like to spew. To do that, you’d first have to be honest with yourself and I don’t think you’d consider letting yourself see or hear the truth. I’ve accepted that we’ll never be mother and daughter again.

So you’re wrong that I want to hurt you and Dad. I don’t feel any pleasure in hearing about the difficulties you and Dad are dealing with now. But if the truth causes you pain, that’s not my problem. If you wanted me to say better things about you, you should have been better parents. Neither of us can change the past, though you’d rather ignore it.

I stayed silent for so many years out of a desire to protect both of you. I refuse to stay in the same dysfunctional role that I played most of my life. As your child, it was your job to protect me, not the other way around. I’m finished protecting you.

In truth, I don’t write about the harm you and Dad did to expose you. I’m not motivated by you at all, though I understand that since our entire relationship was all about you, you’d think it’s still that way. It’s not about you, Mom. My healing would have no relevance or context without including how broken I was and since you did the breaking, you’re a part of my story.

In one of your last emails to me, you insisted that you’re my mother (and I presume that you were demanding that I give you the honor that goes with that title). I may refer to you as my mother when I’m talking to others, but only for clarity. As I refer to you by that title now, it’s only for my convenience.

A title signifies a function or description. Does “Mother” describe what you’ve been to me? I don’t think so. I’ll tell you when I’ll honor you as my mother. I’ll do that when you act honorably. You’ll never be my mother as long as you cling to your lies—not just the ones about dad’s innocence—but about the pain from your own childhood. You didn’t marry such a horribly cruel abuser by accident. Dad wasn’t the first abuser in your life that you covered for. I suspect you’re covering for your own childhood abusers to cover your own pain. But that’s for you to deal with. Hey, I know a good website that deals with that kind of thing if you’re ever interested.

Christina

With each passing year, I look more and more like my parents and I used to HATE that. Every time I looked in the mirror, I was reminded of their rejection and I felt ashamed of the people I came from and fearful of ending up like them.

This year, I’m amazed by how comfortable I’ve become with myself. When I look in the mirror, I don’t see my parents. I see both the innocent little girl that I was and I see the incredible woman I have become. Instead of feeling shame for the family I had, I feel very proud that I am nothing like them.

People say life is a gift, but the life I have now is the one I worked and fought for. The “life” my parents gave me left me hollow and empty. The life I celebrate on my birthday and every day is the life I gave to myself. It’s been a very good birthday.

Speaking of gifts, Overcoming Sexual Abuse is funded by the generosity of our friends and by the survivor community. At this time, we need help in covering our expenses. If you believe in the hope and help we offer or have benefited from OSA, would you consider making a donation? Gifts are tax-deductible in the U.S. and are very much appreciated. To make a donation, look for the donate button on the top right side of the page.

Now that you’ve heard my experience and thoughts about this, I’d love to hear yours. Please comment below and don’t forget to subscribe to the comments so you can continue to partake in the discussion. If you would like to protect your privacy, you don’t have to use your real name. Email addresses are never made public.

Related Posts:
My Parents Are Dead (To Me)
Understanding My Abusive Parents Didn’t Heal Me
The Truth About My Abuser’s Threats
Peace and Protection From Abuse
Healing From Sexual Abuse: Celebrating My Victories

Christina Enevoldsen is cofounder of Overcoming Sexual Abuse, an online resource for male and female abuse survivors looking for practical answers and tools for healing. Christina’s passions are writing and speaking about her own journey of healing from abuse and inspiring people toward wholeness. She and her husband live in Los Angeles and share three children and four grandchildren.

[read Christina's story here]

by Christina Enevoldsen

When I was ten, I wet my pants in school. We were taking a very long test and our instructions were to remain silent at our seats. No talking, no asking questions, no moving around. Since that ruled out raising my hand to ask to go to the bathroom, and I wasn’t even allowed to wiggle in my seat, I only saw one choice.

As a child, I went to great lengths to avoid getting in trouble. Following the rules felt like a life and death matter. I didn’t need any type of punishment; it was punishment enough for anyone in authority to be displeased with me. The worst thing I could imagine was being labeled a bad kid.

That fear followed me all my life and it crept up when I started talking about my childhood sexual abuse. The first time I told my story publicly, I heard a little girl’s voice within me say, “You’re going to get in trouble now.” For a moment, fear gripped me and I was at the mercy of my parents again, subject to their judgment and the abandonment that went with it.

I comforted myself with the knowledge that I’m not that vulnerable child anymore and I continued to talk openly about the things my dad did to me and the things he let other men do to me. After a couple of years of sharing my story publicly, I didn’t know how much that old fear of getting in trouble still haunted me. I hadn’t had contact with my parents during that time, though I’d heard from a few people that they didn’t like what I was saying.

Then I got a certified letter from my mother:

Jan. 31, 2011

Christina-
I am writing to inform you that your malicious slander of your father has not gone unnoticed. You have built an entire world out of your fantasy. In dreaming up your sexual abuse you have maligned your father’s character and deeply hurt his heart and mine. Your lies shall surely catch up with you.

I want you to know that if you have any plans of writing a book, we will sue you and anyone who has anything to do with it. Your defamation of your father’s character will stop. You will not enjoy one penny from any book published about this gross lie.

And I should let you know that we filed some of your inflammatory statements about your father and me, along with your threat against me, with the Mesa Police Dept.

And I will always be your mother whether you recognize me or not as such.
Your mother-
Mary Schamer

When I got this, there were two voices in my head. I heard my adult voice, who had healed enough to see the truth behind the threats, but I also heard the voice of the little girl inside of me who was still vulnerable to abuse and rejection. I had to dissect this letter to face my fears and to recognize the lies behind them.

“I’m writing to inform you…”

The way my mom phrased that statement was so impersonal, as if to emphasize her distance from me. My mom distanced herself from me all my life and this was a painful reminder of that. Though it didn’t appear to be a threat, it served as a threat to my child-self. Even though they’d already walked away from me a few years before, it was a reminder of the original abandonment of childhood that said, “You’re not good enough to be around, so get in line or we won’t love you anymore. You’ll be all alone in the world and nobody will ever love you.”

The fear of abandonment forced me to comply as a child, but I’m not forced to comply anymore. The key people in my life did reject me for telling the truth, but I’m not alone. Even if the consequence for telling the truth is rejection from everyone I know, that’s not the same death threat that it was when I was a child. I’m a self-sufficient adult and abandonment no longer means the end of my life.

Actually, separation from my abusers has brought me a much more affirming life. I haven’t had a relationship with my parents in years so I know I can live very easily and happily without them, but it was good to remind my child-self of that.

“I’m writing to inform you that your malicious slander of your father has not gone unnoticed.”

The little girl inside of me panicked. “Oh no! They don’t like what I’m doing and they caught me telling”. I’d learned from my family that it was acceptable for them to violate my innocence, but it was unforgivable for me to talk about the violation. But I don’t live by those incest family values anymore. I didn’t do anything wrong by talking about the things my dad did to me.

“Malicious slander” sounded so evil. It was that same fear of being labeled “bad”. That’s a huge part of my need to follow the rules. Being treated like trash gave me the message I was trash so I tried to perfect my way out of the shame. Even though I’d dealt with the majority of that, I still needed to assure myself that I’m not the bad one here. I carried my dad’s shame for what he did to me long enough. I wasn’t the one who had done anything wrong—he was.

“You have built an entire world out of your fantasy.”

When I first started talking about my abuse, it felt like I was lying. I didn’t feel connected to what I knew. It all felt distant and surreal, like a dream. Added to that, I didn’t have any emotions about it for a long time. It was as though it happened to someone else. I didn’t think it was possible to experience such horrible things and not feel anything about it, so on some level, it seemed like I was making it up. Eventually, the emotions came and I KNEW those things didn’t just happen, they happened to ME.

Even though I couldn’t be shaken from the truth anymore, my mother’s claim that I was making this up was crushing. I’d felt invisible to my mother my whole life and now she was tossing me aside with the same dismissive attitude. “Your abuse didn’t exist and neither do you.”

In my mind, I was a small child standing before my mother, pleading for her protection and comfort. Not being believed or acknowledged was life threatening then, but I acknowledge my own life through my healing and I don’t need her to believe me now. Coming face to face with this pain showed me what validation I needed to give to myself.

“In dreaming up your sexual abuse you have maligned your father’s character and deeply hurt his heart and mine.”

In their twisted world, they are the victims and I am their abuser. This kind of manipulative guilt trip used to work on me. I was trained to take care of their feelings in the hope that if they were fulfilled, they’d finally take care of me. I waited for the “validation” for most of my life that my needs were important too, but it never came from them. Their manipulations stopped working when I realized my value and stopped needing their permission to put myself first.

“Your lies shall surely catch up with you.”

I heard this as, “It’s not only your dad and me who will act in opposition to you, but powers bigger than us will ‘get you’ and you’ll be sorry you ever crossed us.” That struck such a nerve and I realized that I’d always been afraid of that. I had a vague fear that God or some cosmic force would punish me for talking about my abuse. Sometimes while I was driving, I was sure another driver would be an instrument in the universe’s hand to pronounce judgment on me. I was afraid I’d discover some gruesome disease overtaking my body. I was always on guard, never knowing which direction retribution would come from.

I’d pushed that fear aside and dismissed it as silly, but reading my mother’s words showed me just how much power that lie still had over me. As a child, my parents were gods to me. They were all powerful and they held my life in their hands. The child within me still saw them as gods and to cross them was to cross the Maker of the universe. When I confronted that lie, the illusion shattered. Not only are my mother and father not God or gods, they don’t represent God or his interests. When I stand against my parents, I’m really standing against injustice, abuse and lies. They do not represent anything to do with God and they do not have any power to pronounce judgment on me.

“I want you to know that if you have any plans of writing a book, we will sue you and anyone who has anything to do with it. Your defamation of your father’s character will stop. You will not enjoy one penny from any book published about this gross lie.”

I thought it was interesting that the threat to sue me was only if I wrote a book. The audience that I’ve reached through my story has reached tens of thousands already. Yes, I plan to write a book, in fact, several books, but why not sue me now? If they truly had a case against me, there is plenty of “evidence” of my “slander” and they don’t need to wait for me to write a book.

“And I should let you know that we filed some of your inflammatory statements about your father and me, along with your threat against me, with the Mesa Police Dept.”

When I first read that, I was a little girl again, terrified of getting in trouble. It was one thing to be sent to my room and another thing to be sent to jail. But what had I done wrong? I’ve done nothing illegal or wrong. My dad is the criminal, not me. I’m doing something right in telling my story. I’m standing for the truth and making it easier for other abuse survivors to tell their story. As more of us speak out, maybe more abusers will think twice about hurting other children. Maybe more parents will be diligent. Maybe more survivors will heal. I’m helping to make the world a safer place by talking about how dangerous my childhood was. If telling the truth was illegal, I’d still tell the truth.

Though my mom claimed she and my dad reported me to the police, I don’t know if that’s really true. There’s one thing I have to keep reminding myself: abusers lie. They will say anything to preserve themselves, which to them means maintaining their position of power.

One of the biggest things that stands out to me about this letter is that it’s written by my mother. In fact, this is one of three letters I’ve received from my mother since our “divorce”. In the years that I’ve spoken publicly about my abuse, my father has never contacted me directly. He’s never made any effort to clear up any “misunderstanding” or to ask me why I’d “lie” about him. Though my mother is claiming to speak for both of them, my father has been silent. He’s told plenty of other people that I’m lying, but he’s never faced me. I can only conclude that he doesn’t want to face me because he knows that I’ll never be manipulated into silence again. His feigned protests to other people and through other people are an attempt to manipulate them, not me.

This threatening letter was a turning point in my recovery process. A few days after receiving it, I realized that I hadn’t really been standing up for myself enough and decided to report my dad to the police. Seeing how much my parents discounted me stirred something in me. I saw how much I’d been discounting what my dad did to me.

I’m more motivated than ever to stand up for the truth. Even if my mother and father do sue me, the burden of proof is on them and I’d actually love to have my day in court. I doubt they want to give me any more opportunities or other platforms to expose them, but if they pursue legal actions, I’d welcome the chance to tell a judge and jury what my dad did to me.

My mom did everything she could to appear as powerful as possible. That’s as much as she had and it was nothing. She meant to intimidate me into silence as though I was still that little girl that she could manipulate and control. She did her worst but she can’t shut me up.

Now that you’ve heard my experience and thoughts about this, I’d love to hear yours. Please comment below and don’t forget to subscribe to the comments so you can continue to partake in the discussion. If you would like to protect your privacy, you don’t have to use your real name. Email addresses are never made public.

Related Posts:
Peace and Protection From Abuse
The Fear of Being Re-victimized
Domestic Violence: The Signs I Missed
Standing Up For Myself: Reclaiming My Self-Worth
Dealing With Triggers of Abuse

Christina Enevoldsen is cofounder of Overcoming Sexual Abuse, an online resource for male and female abuse survivors looking for practical answers and tools for healing. Christina’s passions are writing and speaking about her own journey of healing from abuse and inspiring people toward wholeness. She and her husband live in Los Angeles and share three children and four grandchildren.

[read Christina's story here]

Conversely, when a child is believed and supported in childhood, the effects of the abuse are significantly diminished. Many parents don’t learn about the abuse until their child is grown, but understanding and support remain important even for adult survivors.

We asked survivors to share their stories and feelings about their abuse and the rejection of their parents. This is a collection of their thoughts, from their hearts, in their own words. For their full stories, you can read here.

Hear Me
I want more than anything for my mother to HEAR me…Just HEAR me. I was told to shut up. From that I learned that I didn’t have a voice. I was never safe in my own home, nor was I ever protected. I was stripped of MY innocence. What could I have done so bad to deserve that abuse? I still can’t get my mother to see the pain I’m in.

Don’t Tell Me To Be Strong–YOU Be Strong
Dear Mom,
When I was little, you let me know that I could never go to you with a problem. You would yell at me whenever I asked, “Mom?” If I even had the courage to go on and ask you or tell you what I wanted to, you’d yell at me, “Ahh, great, just great! Don’t you think I have enough problems?” I was seven, Mom. And since I was seven, I’ve been trying not to be a problem, Mom.

And when I spoke up, where were you? When I talked to that detective, that night, I didn’t cry on your shoulder, you cried on mine, you asked me to forgive you. I was exhausted, I just wanted to sleep…You never asked me if I was okay, or if I wanted to talk about it sometime, or if it was even okay for you to touch me at all, you just drenched my shoulders in your tears. I was the strong one for you. You had been devastated by the truth that your child was the victim, but instead of helping me, you asked me to make you feel better… so I did… I told you it was okay, that you were okay.

You have never let me talk to you about it because you get too emotional about it. Suck it up! It happened to ME! I WENT THROUGH IT, and YOU can’t EVEN stand to hear it? How DARE you expect ME to be STRONG when YOU can’t even LISTEN to ME!

Believe Me
My mother used to be one of my best friends. I disclosed everything to her shortly after the memories of the abuse started resurfacing as an adult. I expected her to believe and support me. I was shocked when she didn’t.

She never blatantly accused me of lying because she had decided that there must be something mentally wrong with me. It was easier for her to believe I was crazy than to believe that my father had molested and raped me until I was twelve.

I’ve made tremendous progress with my healing in a relatively short period of time. But it feels like I’m having to heal from so much more than just the abuse. For the first time ever, I’m seeing my mother’s role in all of this. I don’t believe she knew what was happening. But she saw a depressed, withdrawn five year old who would fly into rages toward her father, only her father—a five year old who had insomnia and night terrors almost nightly—a five year old who was suicidal and hurting herself.

My mother did nothing then. But I’ve forgiven her for that. I’ve begged HER to let go of the past and make different, healthier choices right now. To be my mother now, to see, hear, believe and support me now. Her response was that she would never stop supporting him, even if he was a demon from hell. She said she made vows that she will always respect and honor, even if he did rape me for years. She said she believes that is the right choice, that God will support that decision. Really? Really? I love this woman so deeply and I mean so little to her? I’ve always meant so little to her?

Her reaction to my disclosure, her disbelief, her twisting reality around, her not caring about me has been the hardest, most devastating aspect of my healing process. At times, her rejection feels even more traumatizing than the actual abuse. I’m learning that just like my father, I lost her decades ago when she decided it was easier for her to just stop looking at me. My heart is so completely broken.

What would it mean to me if my mom supported my healing? Made an effort to understand my pain? Stopped telling me I was crazy? I would feel safe and protected, the way I was never able to feel as a child. I would know that I was worth being saved, even if she didn’t see it then. I would feel loved. My inner child, that child who endured a horrific crime would finally be able to hold her mommy’s hand and feel comfort.
Nikki Kluj

Don’t Expect Me To Make The Decisions–You’re the Adult
I had been fantasizing about my disclosure for years. I had dropped subtle hints to teachers and trusted adults, which were either ignored or which went right over their heads. What I wished for more than anything was someone to say, “I will protect you as best I can, and I am proud of you for the courage it took to say these words to me. I will be here for you if you need me, whether to talk or not talk, to cry or not cry, and to know you are safe.”

I decided to disclose everything to my mother, but I knew that my “father” was also home. I was late coming home and when I walked in the door, I was bombarded with angry faces and words, so I shouted out, “You want to know why I’m home late? I was trying to decide whether to go to the police because dad has been sexually abusing me for years!”

She could not make a decision to “break up the family” on her own, and they told me that I would decide what happens next. As a seventeen year old, what I wanted was safety and validation and love. At the same time, I didn’t want my siblings or extended family to blame me for causing a family riff. I told them I just wanted to be left alone, wishing she would say that she had decided to leave him, but knowing unless I could say the words that wanted to come out so badly, “LEAVE HIM! LEAVE HIM! LEAVE HIM!” Nothing would change. I could NOT, in fact, make these words come out.

Sexual abuse of a child is an uncomfortable subject. I get that. But sexual abuse of YOUR CHILD is something that YOUR CHILD will deal with on some level for the rest of his or her life. Wishing it away does not work. Making the subject feel taboo (even in subtle ways) is something that can scar YOUR CHILD perhaps as much as the abuse itself. If you can’t find a way to open yourself up to the needs your healing child has, please find someone to help you learn how to do so. Your support or lack of support can make a huge difference in the adult your child becomes.
Alisa Whitmer-Wynn

Pay Attention to My Pain
I was sexually assaulted at age eight by a babysitter’s teenage son and molested repeatedly over several months after that. From the time that I told my mother about the sexual abuse, not only did she not ask me what had happened to me, but completely moved on, and eventually moved our family across the street from the babysitter’s family for her own convenience. I had to be in close proximity to the abuser and his family, who teased and mocked me.

My father knew I wasn’t being treated well at home, and did I nothing to help me. When I looked to him for support because of the sexual abuse, he blew me off, like I was asking him for something trivial.

Both my parents EXPECT me to keep in contact with them and GIVE the privileges other grandparents have. They mostly seem inclined to blame me for being estranged from them, or behave as if we are on some kind of two-way street. No way, not when it comes to my children. From where I’m sitting at this time in my life, that would not be wise for me or my family, especially since they have still failed to earn my trust, by making no effort to change.
Anonymous

Don’t Blame Me
My dad had the privilege of knowing my vulnerabilities and weaknesses and unfortunately used this sacred knowledge to his benefit when he wanted to hurt me…He accused me of being cold and unwelcoming, of shutting him out throughout my teenage years. His tone was much like a little boy who felt rejected, spitting and spewing and crying on his own offspring.

Finally, finally, I got the courage to start asking my mom questions, looking for that shred of leftover childhood hope that somehow she would rescue me. My wish was that we could travel back in time and she would rescue me from him. She responded with, “I told your father not to drink so much.” And “Well, I wasn’t going to divorce Daddy.” Then in the same conversation, “Absolutely not—that never happened.”

So, why do I have to teach THEM? Why do I have to open up my heart and mind for MORE poisonous confusion? Sexual abuse is the ultimate betrayal between a parent and a child and it cuts to the core. It’s not about “getting over it” or maintaining a relationship with sick people. It’s about me putting all my energies towards healing myself whether THEY understand, support, disavow, condemn or even, still love me after the truth is spoken.
Phoenix Rising

Sit With Me In My Pain
My experience is a little different but my needs are still the same. I was sexually abused by both parents and it was very hard to begin the healing process. I felt I was crazy and that no one would believe me.

Tell Me I’m Worthy of Protection
All I ever wanted from my mom was love and nurturing but all I got was hate and blame. I told my mom what was happening when I was twelve. She said, “Oh well” and went to bed, never doing anything to help me at all. My Grandma told the cops. They believed me, but my mother told the detective that my grandma and grandpa put words in my mouth, so he didn’t believe me.

I have no contact with father’s family now and see my mom twice a year but only when I’m with someone. It’s been hard because my real mother and father never loved me so how can anyone? Everyday, I feel like a nothing.
Angela Sorenson

Accept Responsibility For Failing To Protect Me
My mother told me at eighteen that her father had abused her. My reply was, “Then why the heck did you send me there on my own for holidays then?” My mother has never accepted any responsibility for my childhood, in fact she says that I abused her emotionally from the age of eleven months.

She doesn’t like the fact that I do not blame my father as much as I do her. Well sorry, Mother Dearest, but your influence hit hardest and lasted longest. You deny my facts and experiences because they do not reflect what you want it to, and then still try to control me. The time for your dominance is over and I guide my life now and it is a lot less stressful now that you are not in it very often.
Carol Anne Derry

Don’t Tell Me To Get Over It
You would never cast off a cancer survivor and tell them to get over it once it’s “stopped”, however parents not supporting their own children are leaving them to fend for themselves in a life long cancerous battle.

I have not only lost one set of parents through this abuse. I have lost two families and all of my family history. To have my family’s support would be far more than just physical or emotional comfort and belief. It would be a gaining of the past and an opening and welcoming of the future.
Sandy Tai

Don’t Pretend That Nothing Happened
My father abused me for years. I tried to tell my mom and she got so angry and told me to shut up. Even though my father abused me, I had a better connection with him than with my mom. Even to this day, when I think about it, I get that feeling in my stomach and I hate myself.

I’m 45 years old. I’m married with three children, and it took me that long to realize MY MOM DOES NOT LOVE ME. I keep that for myself and it hurts. If parents really want to help their children, they must not go on as if nothing happened! Don’t smother the child with love all of a sudden. Just show you care, and be there for them. Just maybe if I had that…
Anonymous

Don’t Ask Me To Have a Relationship With My Abuser
My parents have continued to show support and love to the ones who did the abusing. One was an older neighbor and the other was my deaf sister. Before I was age twenty, they had been informed twice I had been abused. Both instances left them blank faced and not one physical touch of comfort or one word of support or love.

I had never asked for side taking or any act of correction be given to those people. But I remain shocked and dismayed when the end result is the old man finished his life with my parents still caring for him and his wife until passing and that my sister remains in contact with my parents while I have been removed. I have been removed due to the fact I set a boundary with my abuser and since I won’t forgive and forget I am now being punished for it. I guess forgiveness would come quicker if any had ever been sought or asked for.

I lived for forty-four years ignoring the topic and doing my best to not make any waves. After a few instances of being rejected for not loving my abuser unconditionally, I took a stand and wouldn’t allow the topic to remain silent any longer. That act sealed my fate.
Kimberly Schoolcraft

Don’t Treat My Abuser Better Than You Treat Me
My uncle came to live with us when he was ten and I was eight. He was my mom’s half-brother and he made my life a living hell. He had me do things that were forbidden by my parents, then I’d have to submit to whatever he wanted so he wouldn’t tell. Sometimes he’d still tell and I’d still get in trouble. In August of 1984, he took that a step further. That’s when he started to initiate sex with me. Initially, I didn’t think anything of it, so I submitted to it. Then it was used as a form of manipulation.

The next year, my uncle was failing at school again and my mother wanted to bring him back into the house. My sister and I protested but we lost. My mother told me that what he did wouldn’t happen again and I still had to love him. I was so angry.

The sexual abuse did stop, but he still physically and verbally abused me. I would tell my parents about the abuse, but he would say something else and I’d get in trouble for lying.

When I was twenty-two, I finally told my mom the truth of what my uncle did. She seemed so nonchalant about it. In fact, she said, all I can say is I’m sorry. Truthfully, I feel better not speaking to her. I love her, but need to keep my distance because it does not bring peace to my spirit. Until she can understand what she allowed me to suffer and more importantly, admit that she screwed up, we need to be apart. I’ve made it this far without her support, so she can stay out of my life.
Tremayne Moore

Tell Me I Didn’t Deserve It
I told my mum directly after my abuse happened. I was crying, so she asked me and I told her. She told me never to tell my father because he was mentally ill. After that, great silence—never speaking to me.

It makes me so angry to be treated so unjustly. I wasn’t the abuser, I was the victim. I’m so alone. My mum does not respect my feelings and my dad does not even care. I have no worth and nobody can care or love me. When I’m suffering or in pain, I have to go through it alone. At the same time, they expect that they have the right to be in my life in the time they choose. Not me, I have no rights.
Martha Mouner

SURVIVORS OF ABUSE NEED:

1. TO BE BELIEVED
It might seem easier to pretend that nothing ever happened, and you might think that pretending it never happened is protecting your child from more pain, but that communicates that either you don’t believe that it happened or that you don’t care.

Questions like “Are you sure?” communicate that you don’t believe him. If you struggle with accepting this, don’t share your difficulty with your child. It’s not his or her job to help you through your denial.

Believing your child means action. It means reporting the abuse and leaving the abuser. It means your child needs nurturing attention—not just for a day or two, but for a lifetime. Sexual abuse is LIFE ALTERING. There is no going back to the way things were. With care and support there IS healing, but there is no going back.

2. TO BE ASSURED HE/SHE ISN’T BAD
The child needs to be told that he or she isn’t bad, the things that happened to them are. Children who are sexually abused feel dirty and shameful and “bad”. Abusers also manipulate the victim to take the blame. There is nothing a child could do to deserve for something like this to happen to him or her. No matter what a child does before or after the abuse, the child didn’t do anything to “bring it on himself.”

When something so traumatic happens, the child absorbs the trauma into his or her body and soul. The pain is stored there until the emotions are expressed. The child needs someone to “witness” the badness of what happened to them. Often, when their pain is not heard or is invalidated, they act out with undesirable behavior, which is their only means of expression. That sometimes leads to the parent labeling the child as “bad”, which causes more harm.

Your child is not bad. Your child needs to be understood and loved.

3. TO BE HEARD
Some victims don’t feel comfortable talking about the abuse, but need to know that their parents will listen with compassion and understanding if the time comes that she does want to talk about it. Other survivors of abuse want to talk about it over and over. Both reactions are normal.

Don’t expect your child to be strong and “just forget about it”. Your child actually lived through the trauma. As difficult as it is to hear about the experience and pain, your child has the hard part and she is a child, you are an adult. YOU be the strong one and listen.

4. TO KNOW HIS/HER NEEDS COME FIRST
Abuse tells the child that it’s his or her job to make someone else feel better. It’s important that your words and actions don’t reinforce that lie. No matter what is going on in your life, no matter if this is difficult to hear, your child needs to know that he doesn’t have to hide or minimize his needs because “it would be too much for you.” It’s not your child’s job to take care of your needs; it’s your job to care for your child’s needs.

5. TO FEEL PHYSICALLY AND EMOTIONALLY SAFE
Children need to be kept away from their abusers—no matter who the abuser is. Part of the grooming process of abuse causes the victim to feel protective of the abuser and his or her feelings. Even if a child “misses” the abuser, it’s not safe or healthy to spend time with the abuser.

Survivors of abuse shouldn’t be manipulated or coerced into maintaining a relationship with the abuser or be pressured to forgive. They need to process their own feelings and need an environment where it’s safe to express any feelings about the abuser that he or she wants to.

6. AMENDS TO BE MADE
Denying responsibility only contributes to your child’s pain. You may have been fooled,, you may not have known, you may have felt that the situation was out of your control, but it’s a parent’s job to be their child’s protection. Failing to protect is abandonment, whether you meant to or not and abandonment is often the most painful form of abuse. Whether your child acknowledges your role in their abuse or not, you owe your child an apology without any excuses attached to it.

As harmful as sexual abuse is, as long-lasting and as damaging its effects, having a parent’s understanding and love makes the healing process so much easier. A parent has the ability to prolong the pain or to substantially ease it.

In the comments below, please share your experiences and feelings about your parents’ response to your abuse. If you have anything else you’d like to add to the list of survivors’ needs, please share that too.

Related Posts:
Straight Talk To Parents About Protecting Their Child From Sexual Abuse
Confessions of a Child Molester’s Wife
Peace and Protection From Abuse
Forgetting About Abuse: Who Does That Really Serve?
What If My Family Rejects Me? Part 3