by Bethany Ruck 

When my last boyfriend and I began dating, we would see each other once a week. The in between times were filled with hour-long telephone calls before bed, a lot of getting to know you time and even more of the sickening, “No, I miss you more” fluff.  One night the conversation led to just the right place, where I could tell him about my childhood sexual abuse. I remember prefacing it with a warning that I had something very serious to say; then I told him. He didn’t seem to have much of a reaction, so I assumed that he didn’t feel comfortable asking questions. Okay, change of subject. I guess he didn’t want to talk about it, so I went about the rest of the phone call as normal. The topic of sexual abuse didn’t come up again until much later in the relationship.
 
A year down the road, when I decided that I wanted to report my father for sexually abusing me, I sat my boyfriend down and told him my intentions. Our relationship had turned significantly more serious by that time, so I wanted his support. Instead of support, I was met with an attack. “If I would have known you were sexually abused I never would have dated you.” he said. I was shocked! I never fathomed that he would react like that, especially since I specifically remember telling him about the sexual abuse a year prior. The relationship soon ended, but not without further hurt.
 

Comfortable with Emotion
Crying is healthy. It’s an expression of emotions. Something yucky on the inside is trying to come out, so let it! My boyfriend did not see it this way. Instead of letting me cry he would yell at me, telling me to stop. We were living together at the time, so when I needed a good cry I never had a safe place to do it. I couldn’t express my emotions because he was always there. Finding a partner who is comfortable expressing their own emotion and hearing mine is a prerequisite for a healthy foundation. 
 
Supportive of My Healing
Healing from sexual abuse is not a quick fix. It’s a long road with bumps, low visibility and a whole bunch of people trying to cut you off. Embarking on that journey without a healthy support system is impossible. With my last boyfriend, I wasn’t looking for someone to hold my hand through the healing process. I just wanted someone to say every once in a while, “You can do it!  Great job. Keep going!” Instead of being my cheerleader, I got torn down for my efforts. He only saw how my past abuse affected him, instead of how beneficial healing was to both of us.
 
Isn’t Abusive
I know this sounds so obvious, doesn’t it? But it’s so often overlooked. I thought I knew how to recognize abusive behavior. All I had to look for was someone who didn’t molest children or didn’t give me that creepy feeling, right? WRONG! Perpetrators generally have patterns of abuse that span over several areas. In my case, my boyfriend used his words against me, manipulating and playing on my weaknesses. Every time the relationship turned south he would tell me that a few days prior he had been shopping for engagement rings, in hopes that I would see what a grand gesture of love he was trying to make. In one fight I remember being referred to as “damaged goods” because of the abuse I had no control over.
 
In the end, I didn’t get what I wanted out of this relationship. Instead of love, I got rejection. I firmly believe that love is an action, not some gushy feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when that special someone comes near. He told me all the things I wanted to hear, but his actions showed me that he was more concerned with himself than with loving me.
 
I wish I would have seen clearly going into that relationship, but I’m now better equipped to do so in the future. 

Related Posts: 
Sexual Abuse Invaded My Marriage
Is This Love That I’m Feeling?
Power Play: How to Recognize an Abuser
Prince Charming Was a Murder Suspect
Dangerous Men, Red Flags, Victim Mentality
Emotional Abuse and Identity Hunger  

[read Bethany's story here]  

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Bethany Ruck is cofounder of Overcoming Sexual Abuse, an online resource for male and female abuse survivors looking for practical answers and tools for healing. Besides helping abuse survivors see the beauty within themselves, she enhances the beauty of others as a professional make-up artist and has worked in television, film and print.

[read Bethany's story here]

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Christina Enevoldsen

by Christina Enevoldsen

“In every block of marble I see a statue as plain as though it stood before me, shaped and perfect in attitude and action.  I have only to hew away the rough walls that imprison the lovely apparition to reveal it to the other eyes as mine see it.” Michelangelo

It’s completely fascinating to me to consider how Michelangelo created.  The sculptor imagined the finished work before he lifted the chisel to the stone.  He didn’t see the marble block; he saw the image underneath. He recognized what it was, and then simply removed what it was not.

I’m no Michelangelo, but I am creating a masterpiece—or rather, revealing one.  My childhood sexual abuse encased me in a false identity and covered me in a shroud of lies. My false self wasn’t stone, but it imprisoned me just the same. My healing process is the chiseling away at the falsehoods to free my true self.   

The trouble is that I’ve never had the clarity of Michelangelo.  The only Christina I’ve ever known was the one who adapted to the abuse.  The lies entrapped me for so long that I felt I didn’t exist apart from them.  How could I have a vision for someone I’ve never seen?  That was my question when I began my healing. I didn’t know the answer but I was determined to rescue my true image just as the great artist rescued his beauties from the stone. 

The lies were layered. First, the abuse told me lies about myself and then I told other lies about myself to cover up the first lies.  The lies from the abuse told me I was only good for sex, that I was somehow flawed as a person, too dirty and used for someone to love me.  I wasn’t aware that it was the abuse that told me that.  I thought I was abused because those things were already true.  I thought I was inherently worthless so I deserved to be passed around. 

I reacted to those lies by trying to ‘prove’ they weren’t true.  I knew they were—they were true to me—but I was hoping people would be fooled by my facade. One of my false selves was the “hard worker”.  I projected an image of responsibility, maturity, and dependability.  It was my uniform that informed people that they needed to keep me around because I was useful. The more shame I felt and the more I thought my masks were ‘slipping’, the more I asserted them. They became hardened around me.  I didn’t know where they stopped and I began. 

As I recognized that I was misinformed about my value, I shed the lies.  The truth is that I am valuable because I exist.  My value isn’t affected by what happened to me.  I didn’t do those things; they were done to me and it was not a reflection on me.  It wasn’t because I was bad.  It was because my abusers were bad.  I don’t have anything to conceal anymore because I’m wonderfully made. 

I thought I needed to perceive who I was supposed to be before I could make myself into that image.  The truth is that I don’t need to see or ‘make’ myself into anything.  I am who I am.  I was so used to contorting myself into certain roles that I thought I would ‘achieve’ the real me the same way.  All I’ve really needed to do is remove the lies.  Then the truth is revealed. 

The real me is emerging.  I’m learning more about myself every day and the sense of wonder and excitement and expectation fill me.  The real me is coming out without even really thinking about it.  It’s natural and unrehearsed.  It’s effortless.  As I heal and the masks fall off, the genuine Christina is revealed.  She’s been there all along.

It’s ironic that I thought I’d prove my value by covering myself up, yet a work of art can only be appreciated when it can be seen.  The healing process is referred to as recovery, but I’ve been covered up long enough and I don’t want to be re-covered.  Maybe it’s more accurate to call this my uncovery—the grand unveiling of this masterpiece.  BEAUTIFUL!

Related Posts:
Getting Real: Can Our Survival Roles Help Us Find Our True Selves?
My Fear of Being Alone
The Real Problem With Being Fake

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]

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Christina Enevoldsen

by Christina Enevoldsen

I could never take a vacation for more than four days. I didn’t understand how people could be happy just “wasting time” or how they could prefer fun and games over tangible results. Hard work was my fun.

It was frustrating when my son and daughter were young and I tried to get “important” things done while they wanted me to watch their new ball-catching skills or to admire their fingerpainting. As they got a little older, I learned that good parenting required nurturing a child’s emotional needs, which meant “entering into his or her world”. I really wanted to be a good mother, so I did my best to engage in play, to enjoy the moment. But all the time, I watched the clock and thought, “I wonder if they’ve had enough”.

In their teen years, it was easier to relate to my children and enjoy our activities together. By then their interests were more serious and adult-like. I was also learning the balance between work and play for my own benefit. I adjusted my schedule in an attempt toward balance, but recreation was stressful; my thoughts drifted back to, “I wonder if I’ve had enough.”

My children are grown now, but a few months ago a friend expressed the challenges of balancing her role as a mother of children still living at home and working toward her goals. I felt relieved that I didn’t have that challenge anymore. In the midst of that thought, a little girl’s voice interrupted me, “I’m still here.” I immediately knew it was my inner child. I still had a small child at home.

On my healing journey from childhood sexual abuse, I’ve been very aware of my inner child. She was the one exposed to adult experiences and left with the adult responsibility of protecting herself. She never got a childhood. She was never allowed to express herself. Her pain, fear and anger still awaited expression, but so did her playfulness. Part of my healing is to nurture her—nurture that stifled part that missed the carefree abandon of play and the wonder of discovery. Her little voice was tugging at my skirt, reminding me of her presence, asking me to consider her needs.

One of my greatest sources of pain is to know how many times I turned down invitations to play with my children. Finally listening to my own inner child, hearing her longing, gave me some idea of how much it must have hurt them. Even so, I knew if I could go back to change things, I’d still be the same person I was then–driven toward accomplishment. My years of attempting balance didn’t do anything to relieve me of this inner struggle. I was way overdue to confront whatever it was that was keeping me there.

I saw myself as a two-year old. My parents were caring for my infant brother and I needed something. They laughed at me and said, “Do you think you’re the only one who matters? You’re not the center of the universe.”

I felt shame for needing. My parents’ response told me I didn’t matter. Since I didn’t matter, I had to do something so people would want me. I needed to produce tangible results to prove I was important. It became the way I earned my right to live on the planet.

My parents may not have filled my needs, but I’m not bad for having needs. No matter how I am treated, I am important. My value doesn’t come from anyone else; their opinions don’t change my value. My value does not go up or down based on what I do. I am valuable because I exist.

Knowing that truth released the kid in me. I’m liberated to have fun and be silly. Now I’m happy to cooperate with my inner child and provide her the playful expression she never had. I read Nancy Drew books and play Charlie’s Angels at the store with my friend. I give in to spontaneous urges to jump on the bed or spin across the room or doodle in my coloring book or make up funny endings to classic stories. Fun is FUN!

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]

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I live close to Beverly Hills, the plastic surgery Mecca, where the question is, “Are they real?” I’m also a few blocks from where the Academy Awards and many film premieres are held, where celebrities smile for the cameras and wave confidently to the fans, yet we know many of them are shy, quiet and prefer solitude. It’s not always easy to determine what’s real and what’s not. Bethany Ruck, Penny Smith and I sat down to try to sort out the real from the not-so-real in our own lives.

Christina: For as long as I can remember, I’ve faced the challenges in my life as someone else. I’ve worn an internal costume of someone stronger and more capable. One I used often was a pioneer woman, able to brave the many hardships of the American frontier. Channeling a pioneer spirit made me feel stronger and braver.

Penny: I’ve done the same thing since I was a little girl. I’d pretend I was a pioneer or an immigrant, especially an Irish immigrant because I have so much Irish in me and I was always reading about the hardships they went through. Or I was a slave girl, somehow enduring things that were too difficult or scary for me. Someone brave and strong.

Bethany: Mine was a tough girl, someone you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley— one that you wouldn’t mess with because you know she’s going to fight back. Even if I wasn’t wearing my leather jacket, boots and heavy eyeliner, I’d be a tough girl with my attitude, the way I’d strut down the street or hold myself or the way I’d talk. Even in social situations, when I didn’t feel comfortable I’d be reserved and act snotty in a way that kept people away from me and made me feel protected.

Penny: I can relate to the tough girl mask, too. I am quiet and mild-mannered most of the time but I acted tough even when I was crying inside. I used to use a mask when I had to walk through the ghetto of Oakland everyday to my bus stop. I was totally freaked out inside but outside I was all tough girl.

Christina: Another role I played was a captive in a prison camp. I’d play that role even though I wasn’t even in a dangerous situation. One of the main times was when I was facing deadlines in my business. It was exhausting work but I knew if I pretended to be in a life threatening situation with cruel guards pointing guns at me, ready to shoot anyone who showed signs of weakness, I could go on.

Penny: Yes, anytime something came up that I didn’t think I could do—like giving a report in front of the class—I would imagine myself as someone else who was comfortable with public speaking and could do it well.

Bethany: I always felt a fake though. When people would say, “Oh, my God, you’re so strong,” I didn’t understand how anyone could say that when I felt like everything I was doing to be strong was a facade. That was very confusing.

Penny: I felt like I was falling apart on the inside even though I had the appearance of strength.

Bethany: Wearing the tough girl for so long made me think I was really her. I put myself in some bad situations because I thought I would be safe. I was unrealistic about my own safety because I had a false sense of security. I was actually more vulnerable because I made unwise decisions.

Penny: It got me into some scary situations, too. After doing it a few times, I thought I really could handle those things. One time, I got off work late and instead of waiting for a ride, I took the bus and had to walk through this bad part of town where all the drug dealers were out. When I got home they told me I was crazy.

Bethany: What I faced was very similar. I saw how much the facade did not protect me. It hurt me because people thought I was a bitch. I was so closed off and unapproachable. That’s the only way I knew to protect myself. It’s like what I did to try to protect myself from the sexual abuse.

Christina: I relate it to my abuse, too. The abuse told me I was powerless and the effects showed me how weak I was. The shame trained me to put myself down so it was hard to recognize the good, strong qualities I have. I had to see them outside of me.

Bethany: One day I realized how much of a facade I presented to the world and I cried because hardly anyone knew the real me. I was hiding myself. Now, I’m finding my own confidence and strength to stand up for myself. As I’ve internalized that part of me and sorted through the parts of tough girl that I want, such as her ability to fight back. I can still access those things, yet filter them my through wisdom and discernment.

Christina: I’m finding my confidence and strength, too. I realized that the roles I’ve “put on” aren’t really external; they are internal and something I “pull out”. I drew from a strength I didn’t know I had. I admired it elsewhere, yet I only connected with it because it was something I already owned. Maybe it was undeveloped or unrecognized, but it was mine. I wore it like a lie, but it’s really the truth—it felt fake, but it showed me a part of who I really am.

Penny: It’s so true what you say that all these things are part of us…they’re facets of ourselves. We have these inner strengths and this is the way that we’ve drawn on them when we’ve had to. If it wasn’t ours to begin with, we wouldn’t be able to use it. No matter how developed of an imagination we may have, we can’t actually turn ourselves into something that we’re not. Maybe someplace deep inside of me I am a good public speaker. Lol.

I remember one winter in South Dakota as a teenager coming upon a terrible car wreck. My friends and I were the first ones on the scene and none of us knew what to do. I was so scared but something inside me took over. I sent someone for help. Then, I headed for the overturned car on its top in the snowy ditch. On my way, I found a man lying tangled in the barbwire fence that the car had gone through. He had been thrown out and I could tell was hurt quite badly. I stopped, spoke to him, called for the others to bring a blanket for him and continued to the car. The car was on its roof and there was a man trapped behind the steering wheel. He was struggling and I told him not to move. After leaving a couple of friends there with orders to keep him talking, still and to not let him fall asleep, I went back to the man in the fence. I managed to get him untangled, to tie jackets and whatever I could get to stop the bleeding, piled anything I could on him to keep him warm and kept him awake until help finally came. The ambulance personnel actually asked if I had been trained in emergency response.

I was the quietest, shyest one of the bunch, but when faced with trauma, I was the only one able to respond. I have often thought about that and wondered why. It was truly like I became someone else….someone competent and able…two things I never saw myself as. So, yes, it makes sense that we do have these unplumbed, undeveloped strengths inside of us that we’ve been able to call upon when needed.

Christina: The more I looked back on the things I accomplished while I was playing a role, the more I saw evidence in my own life that I actually did have those qualities. It wasn’t a pioneer woman who accomplished those things in my life. It was me. I saw what I was capable of. They were very real qualities I had, yet hadn’t recognized, acknowledged, or developed. Once I did start to see that, it started to feel natural and real, like me. It didn’t feel fake anymore. I didn’t have to put on those roles, they weren’t separate from me anymore; they were parts of me.

Penny: As I’m getting to know myself, I’m realizing that I need my coping mechanisms less and less. I see myself more as someone who can deal with things head-on rather than someone that has to hide behind a mask to survive. As I become more self-aware some of these things sort of take care of themselves. Maybe it’s because I am seeing more of my inner strength as belonging to me and not something that I have to “pretend” or “put on.” The roles are indications of who we really are, so that helps us to get to know ourselves better.

Christina: Once we see ourselves for who we really are, we don’t have to live in fantasy. The reality is that we do have power to do something about the things that we’re intimidated by. We can improve our public speaking skills, we can take self defense courses, we can say no to dangerous situations, we can improve our social skills. We aren’t vulnerable and helpless anymore. Acknowledging the power we have gives us other options so we don’t have to rely on facades.

Related Posts:
How Can I “Be Myself” If I Don’t Know Who That Is?

The Real Problem With Being Fake

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Windows and doors, set. Beep Beep, Beep Beep. Motion detectors, set. Beep Beep, Beep Beep. Alarms set. Beep Beep. Beep Beep. My husband had an alarm system put into our home and I have to say, it helps me feel safe. He is ill and getting weaker and his thoughts were for me. He was afraid he wouldn’t be able to protect me physically if someone were to break in and wanted to make sure I could sleep at night. It does give me a sense of security knowing that if someone were to walk through the garage or jiggle the windows and doors an ear ringing alarm would sound and the police would immediately be called.

I started to think how wonderful it would have been to have an alarm in me when I was a child being sexually touched by family and friends and as an adult being raped and beaten by my ex husband. To have an alarm go off and the police called every time I was touched forcibly, sexually, physically and emotionally would have been worth every penny. Instead of being at the hands of my abusers, they would immediately be under arrest with validation by the police. I wouldn’t have to justify their touches to others and I wouldn’t be afraid to testify against them because the alarm and the police would be my witnesses. All the fears of exposure would be gone and, in a way, I think I would be a martyr or maybe even a hero.

As we all know, it isn’t that simple. I couldn’t stop my abuse as a child and didn’t stop it as an adult. The windows and doors to my soul were open and my abusers walked in and took what ever they wanted. Like thieves in the night they took the best of me. As they took what they wanted, they also left physical as well as emotional scars. Trampling on and scattering my self being. Trust was thrown in a corner, self-esteem was thrown aside, love was stomped on and boundaries were tossed out the window. My heart and my soul looked like a crime scene. I could have called the police to come and take fingerprints and give them a description of my abusers, but the damage was already done. An unrecognizable person, battered and bruised, scarred for life.

After many years and a new awareness for my own safety, I started to clean up the mess my abusers left behind. I put my soul, my heart and my physical body back together. But now, I rebuilt them with supernatural strength and an alarm system built to my specifications. Boundaries are being put back together with super glue, self-esteem with unbreakable thread, love is covered with a shield and trust is clamped with rivets of steel. My personal alarm system. The more pieces of my soul that I find and put back together, the more my alarm system covers. It’s a personal guarantee that the windows and doors to my soul are covered with bullet proof glass and laser-beam motion detectors. I can see out and others can see in, but I have a sign on my forehead now that reads, “ Beware! Alarm System Built by Patty – Covered Head to Toe, Inside and Out.”

Patty Hite is one of five facilitators of Overcoming Sexual Abuse. A survivor of emotional, physical and sexual abuse, Patty has been tenaciously pursuing her healing for over thirty years. She’s a passionate advocate for all survivors and dedicates her life to inspiring emotional wholeness in others. As a former victim of spousal abuse, she’s delighted to find true love with her husband of ­­­­five years. She’s blessed with four children and six grandchildren.

[read Patty's story here]

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Christina Enevoldsen

by Christina Enevoldsen

Does time heals all wounds?  I’ve heard many survivors of abuse try to soothe themselves by saying, “Soon, this will pass.” It does take time to heal—and lots of it. But time alone won’t repair the soul mutilation of abuse anymore than it will repair the destruction caused by an earthquake. Sexual abuse ravages the depths of your being and to be restored, you’ll need to face each wounded area.  Healing takes great quantities of perseverance, courage, strength and yes, time.

Recognizing the Abuse

The first step in beginning to heal from any kind of abuse is to recognize and acknowledge that it happened to you, and that it matters.  It’s very common to remember an unwanted sexual encounter, yet not recognize it as sexual abuse. Sexual abuse is when someone with less power is tricked, trapped, coerced, or bribed into any type of sexual experience. Power imbalance may result from the perpetrator’s age, size, position, experience, or authority and includes kissing, fondling, being forced to touch the abuser’s genitals, anal, oral or vaginal sex, and non-contact acts such as exhibitionism, exposure to pornography, voyeurism or sexual comments.

Though you may not label it as such, the effects are no less present. The attempt to deny the seriousness doesn’t limit the effects. Just the opposite is true. You may have low self-esteem as a result of your abuse and might not think it matters that you were hurt, but your life is important and you are worth the time and effort it takes to overcome this.

Gaining the Proper Perspective

While it’s common to see the abuse as less serious than it is, it’s also common to see the abuse as bigger than it is. The abuse leaves you feeling powerless. Often, that feeling carries into the healing process. The powerlessness causes you to think of yourself as less capable and weaker than you are. The effects of abuse can seem engulfing, yet you are stronger than the abuse or its effects. Your survival proves that. You’ve lived through the worst of it and the same strength that preserved your life will help you build a new one.

Facing the Effects and Envisioning a Better Future

It’s important to see how sexual abuse has affected your life. Go through the symptom checklist Possible Indicators of Sexual Abuse. Don’t get overwhelmed. Instead, recognize the symptoms of victimization for what they are. Once you recognize how much the abuse has affected you, you can see how much you have to gain by the healing process.

Sometimes it’s hard to visualize a life not consumed with abuse, but try to imagine yourself doing something that you weren’t able to do before.

Facing the Pain

The pain of abuse can be agonizing and incapacitating. Sometimes, it overtakes you and it’s impossible to think about anything else. At those times, pain seems like the enemy. You may try to avoid it through masking or stuffing. Pain won’t kill you, but failing to deal with the pain can limit or shorten your life.

Pain is a vital tool in healing and will only be eliminated as your wounds heal. It’s meant to be a signal to help you find the specific areas that need your protection, nurturing and attention. If you cooperate with your pain instead of fighting it, it will be your ally.

When you recognize a feeling emerging, try to identify when it started. Understanding the origin of the event or memory can help you process and work through the feeling.

Even if you don’t know why you feel the way you do, it’s still important to express your emotions. Masking or stuffing feelings won’t make them go away, only expressing them will.

Be careful not to judge your feelings. Feelings are neither good nor bad. They are helpful indicators of what you believe about your experience. You will likely experience anger and hatred and many other powerful emotions during this time. The more comfortable you become in allowing the feelings to surface, the easier your healing will be.

Gathering Your Resources

A support system is vital to your healing. Friends and family members, support groups and/or a therapist can fill this need. You can’t do this alone. You suffered alone for long enough and you need others around you to heal. Choose people who will take the time to listen without judgment and who help you feel safe.

Professionals who are familiar with sexual abuse issues not only provide support by listening but also by educating you on the process, though many survivors heal without professional counseling. If you choose not to seek therapy or can’t afford it, you will need to learn everything you can about the subject. Doing so will prepare you for the journey by telling you what to expect and by affirming your thoughts and feelings.  Here is a list of recommended reading. Even if you hire a therapist, you are responsible for educating yourself and for your own healing. Nobody can do it for you.

Taking the Plunge

You may be tempted to put your healing on hold while waiting for your abuser to apologize or your family to believe you.  Unfortunately, those things may never happen. Isn’t it time for you to be in control of your own life?  Don’t allow someone else to determine when your healing journey begins. Others may not choose to do what’s best for you, but you can.

Related Links:

Microwave Healing: I Want To Feel Better NOW

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]

Does this resonate with you? Please join in by leaving your thoughts and feelings about this topic and don’t forget to subscribe to the comments.

Christina Enevoldsen

by Christina Enevoldsen

If a friend or family member tells you he or she was sexually abused, please consider the importance of your role in the healing process. Disbelief or disinterest from loved ones can intensify or prolong trauma from abuse. It is emotionally overwhelming when someone you love and trust doesn’t believe you or doesn’t care that something devastating has happened to you. Please note that this list is for adult survivors of sexual abuse. If a child discloses abuse to you, it is your responsibility to report it.

Survivors of abuse have a variety to reactions to the abuse. There is no right or wrong way for them to respond. They may cry and become depressed or become numb and push their feelings aside.

1. Let the survivor speak as much or as little as they feel comfortable with. Do not press for details and don’t try to change the subject until they are ready to move on.
2. Don’t invalidate their experience by sharing something from your own life that you think is similar. You may think you are communicating that you understand their pain, but don’t assume that you know how they feel.
3. Never question their experience. Assure them that you believe them and avoid questions like, “Are you sure?” Sometimes, you may know their abuser and view them as a good person, but “good people” can do bad things. You may also have conflicting allegiances if their abuser is your child or mate. It’s hard to believe someone they love could commit such a monstrous act, but the survivor was not at fault and needs your support.
4. Be careful in what emotions you express. Of course you are human and you are going to feel sad, confused or angry. However, you do not want the survivor to think you are angry with them or that they have to take care of you. Make sure you have a support system so you are taking care of yourself.
5. Ask what physical contact they would like. After being violated by touch, survivors may feel repulsed by touch or may want it.
6. Often a survivor knows their perpetrator. It may be a family member or close friend. Because there may be mixed emotions on the survivor’s part be careful not to condemn the person. Condemn their behavior, but leave the rest alone. It is an emotional process the survivor will have to go through in sorting out their feelings.
7. Do not make promises about the perpetrator going to jail. There are statutes of limitations to consider, the court process can be lengthy and you cannot control the outcome.
8. Don’t view the survivor as damaged. Sexual abuse carries a great deal of shame and they already feel different from others. Be sensitive to the wounded places, but see the difference between who they are and what has happened to them.
9. It is important to allow the survivor to have control over the situation. It is their decision if they want to go to counseling or contact the police. They have already lost control through the abuse and they need to regain it through healing in their own way at their own pace.
10. The survivor’s emotions may appear to be a roller coaster at times. There may be sadness one day, anger the next and avoidance after that. Do not assume that because they are not crying that they are not bothered by the abuse or that they are over it. A survivor may feel they are weak if they cry or are avoiding their emotions because they are not ready to feel the pain of the experience.
11. Educate yourself so you know what to expect. Do your own research on sexual abuse, the results and the healing process.
12. Don’t ask how long the process will take. They don’t know. They experienced a loss and need to be allowed to grieve. Allow them to grieve without trying to fix them. Don’t try to make them laugh when they’re sad.
13. Don’t say, “Just forgive him and let it go.” Or “Why try to dig up the past?” They aren’t trying to dig up the past just for your sympathy or attention. This is a life changing event and it can have serious consequences if it is not thoroughly dealt with. They can’t forget this. They need to face the pain so they can leave it there and move toward a better future.

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]

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My brother’s first memory was the adventure of crawling underneath the fence in our backyard to play with the neighbor’s dogs. I envy him. My first memory was of getting raped. I remember laying on the kitchen table with my open diaper covered in blood — an image that constantly repeats itself in my head. I was about nine months old at the time and my dad was scurrying around in panic trying to fix what he had done to me. After that horrendous experience my memories completely stopped.

My recollection picked up again at the age of four when I remember my dad pushing his penis against my genitals. He would ask if he could go inside as to imply that I had some sort of choice in the matter. The pain of him entering my vagina was too painful that I would cry until he stopped. This was an almost daily occurrence.

Then, life consisted of ample ‘father-daughter time.’ Whether by taking me to an empty parking lot or the open desert he went to great lengths to ensure no one would find out what he was doing to me. Most nights I would hear the jiggling of the doorknob into my room. Quietly, he made his way around to my bed and uncovered my body as I lay there with my heart nearly beating out of my chest. He took every opportunity he had as a time to indulge in his sick addiction.

Oftentimes, my father would suddenly pack my brother and me in the car and drive us to the nearest park in an effort to get a quick fix. My brother was let out of the car and told to go play while I was forced to straddle daddy’s lap. He constantly neglected my brother to focus inappropriate attention on me. Knowing my mom wasn’t too fond of the great outdoors, my dad planned frequent camping trips for just him and the kids. When my brother went off to play in the woods, I got molested. What seemed like the innocent fun of a camping trip was really just an excuse to get mom out of the picture. These were common occurrences until I was about twelve, when the abuse suddenly stopped.

When I was sixteen he used my parent’s temporary separation as another opportunity to get me alone. We were both sitting on his bed having a conversation about the troubled marriage. That’s when he just went at me, grabbing my breast. I was so shocked it was happening again that I froze up. Meanwhile he began the fondling. While paralyzed with fear he started kissing me. I’ll never forget the way his breath smelt of coffee and rotten teeth. All I could think was, “Make it stop! Make it stop!” But just like in any bad dream my cries for help were never heard.

Telling someone about the abuse was not an option. My life was unstable enough without being the cause of my parents’ divorce. When I was nineteen and my parent finally separated for good I wasn’t afraid to tell my secret anymore. I pulled my mom aside and told her what my dad had done to me all those years. My voice was finally heard. By this time it was too late to change the past, but not too late to change my future. When I decided to report my dad to the authorities I then made my voice known publicly.

A few weeks ago, I met with a friend I’ve had since second grade. After I told her what my dad did to me, she was shocked that she knew me while that was going on and had no idea. When I think about the much better her childhood was, I’m tempted to think it’s not fair. She didn’t have to suffer the way I did then or have to deal with the affects of abuse now. But I don’t have any control over what happened to me in the past. I was my father’s victim for long enough. I’m taking control of my future and I refuse to be defined by the past I did not choose.

I’m choosing a new path and while that path is filled with obstacles and residue, I’m finding that they are no match for the woman I’ve become. The very thing that tried to kill and silence me made me see that I can endure and thrive in spite of them. I’ve survived the worst. The journey has just started, but I’m determined to follow the healing path to the end.

Bethany Ruck is cofounder of Overcoming Sexual Abuse, an online resource for male and female abuse survivors looking for practical answers and tools for healing. Besides helping abuse survivors see the beauty within themselves, she enhances the beauty of others as a professional make-up artist and has worked in television, film and print.

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Christina Enevoldsen

I feel like most of my life has been an effort to wake up from a nightmare.  I had a desperate need to escape to the light of day, to free myself from the strange dreamworld of an alternate reality.

I don’t remember thinking about sexual abuse until I was about fourteen or fifteen.  I was dating a boy and told him I had been raped.  It seemed strange to me since I didn’t have any memory of being raped and hadn’t planned to say that.  It came out of my mouth before I really thought about it.  In hearing that, I realized I had the feeling for a long time that something awful had happened to me and that I felt dirty.

When I was in my early twenties, I drove past a preschool in a neighborhood close to where I lived as a young child.  Suddenly I knew I was sexually abused.  It’s not as though I was abused at that preschool, and I didn’t remember a specific instance, but I knew it was a fact, not just a feeling.

I was married with two small kids by then, but when I visited my parents, my mom and I stood in the kitchen and I told her that I was sexually abused.  She responded without interest, as though I never said a word, but my dad yelled from his chair in the next room, “No, you weren’t!”  Okay, end of discussion.

For years, I couldn’t remember anything specific.  I knew that it was my dad who had abused me. I don’t know how I knew, but I knew.  But also thought I might have been abused by others.  I had the feeling of being passed around.

Although I didn’t have any specific memories, I could identify some of the effects of the abuse and began to address them.  I knew I had problems saying no to men, that I acted in a very seductive way, that I was full of shame, and had difficulty setting boundaries so I tried to deal with those things.

Years passed and my twenty-one year marriage to a man who was verbally and financially abusive ended.

Five years later, I was happily and safely re-married and then everything changed.  My twenty-four year old daughter, Bethany, called me one night to tell me she wanted to report her father, my ex-husband, for sexually abusing her.  While doing my best to support her, I started having graphic flashbacks and dreams about my own abuse.  I started seeing my childhood memories in a different light.  All along, I thought I had no memories of my abuse, but it slowly occurred to me that what I thought of as normal father & daughter activities were in reality acts of sexual abuse.

My father not only abused me himself, but also traded me to other men.  There were sex parties where young girls were exchanged. When I was about eight or nine, my dad bragged to a group of people that I would make a good call girl.  He said it like that was a good thing.  They all laughed.  Around the same time, my dad lost his job and a wealthy neighbor helped to keep us fed.  I was sent to the neighbor’s house, either as a favor or as payment for the food he gave us. The neighbor raped me with a pool stick in his basement.  I walked home alone, hoping nobody would see what a bad girl I was.

One of the biggest fears I’ve had my whole life was that I would end up as a prostitute.  I didn’t feel as though I had any choice.  I was locked into that future and there was no escape.  Remembering what my father did was difficult, but at least I knew I wasn’t crazy for fearing something that seemed so irrational.  My body being traded was part of my past, but since I’ve faced the truth, I don’t fear it anymore.

I’m still on the healing journey, but I’ve woken up from my nightmare and have learned to shine the light on my past. As I’ve faced the truth, my life has drastically changed.  I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.  I love myself. I have healthy relationships. I’m able to look at my future with excitement. The worst part of my life is over.  I’m an overcomer.

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 five grandchildren.

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