I read your words.
“I was sexually abused. How I hate typing those words. But they have been in my mind forever, swirling around, hiding at times, but it?¢‚Ç¨‚Ñ¢s always there.”
The words surrounding your experience and your life continued. They overlapped your initial words, until those words were almost forgotten under the layers of your current fears and challenges. You talked of how you coped, how you resisted touch, avoided nakedness, slept partially on guard and ready to flee. I focused on the *now* and it blurred your initial words. I believe these words to be true. I believe these words to be the truest words you ever wrote.
“I was sexually abused. How I hate typing those words. But they have been in my mind forever, swirling around, hiding at times . . .”
I do not believe that you shower in a bathing suit (have seen a photo of you standing outside in a towel, labeled “just got out of the shower”). I do not believe you sleep in sneakers (have never seen you in sneakers, period). I don’t believe you helped pull people from a burning car (there are no reports of a car fire and airlift in the news of the small town near where the event “happened”).
“I was sexually abused. How I hate typing those words. But they have been in my mind forever, swirling around . . .”
I believe you when you wrote
“I was sexually abused. How I hate typing those words. But they have been in my mind forever . . .”
I am angry that the next time I hear a survivor of abuse share his or her story, that I will have a seed of doubt when they share of their fear, of how that experience may continue to break them. I am angry at you, that because of embellishing your own story, you have cast doubt on every. single. fellow abuse survivor.
“I was sexually abused. How I hate typing those words.”
These words are your truth. Clear away all the other stories, all the other lies, all the other embellishments. The truth is ENOUGH. The truth is too much, it is plenty, it is bad enough, it is enough to merit you asking for help. You never needed to add all the other STUFF.
“I was sexually abused.”
Focus on those words. The true words. The four words that say everything. The four words that are so huge, that I understand you throwing other words in front of them to hide them from view. Face them. Deal with them. Move forward. You were always enough. Your truth was always enough. You never needed the rest of the words.
“I was sexually abused.”
Stop hiding from those words.
Simply beautiful, and haunting.
This is beautiful. Really. And so true.
now if only this would be “heard”…you have said what I have been struggling to say for weeks.
This is perfect. I just wish that the target of this post would read it. I don’t know if she will or not.
You rock, lady. xoxo
Beautifully put. I hope that the person whom this is directed at sees it and GETS it.
Love to you my friend. XOXO
I have no words.
I love you. I am inspired by you.
Really, really REALLY well said…
I hope that person sees it, too.
I do want her to get help. It just can’t come from us.
I love you, so much.
another person that feels the same way
I hope this person hears you Dawn. She has caused her own shitstorm and needs to read your words.
You, are beautiful.
I really hope she reads this… some how, some time, eventually. She needs to, and we need her to, too.
Love you, you’re amazing!
I don’t know who this is about, but I hope that person reads your words and takes them to heart.
This is so beautifully put. It’s so easy to be mad and mean, but this….this is the core.
I hope she reads this…and I hope she understands.
the planet of janet
wow. just wow.
you speak beautifully from the heart.
“I am angry that the next time I hear a survivor of abuse share his or her story, that I will have a seed of doubt when they share of their fear, of how that experience may continue to break them. I am angry at you, that because of embellishing your own story, you have cast doubt on every. single. fellow abuse survivor.”
That’s my greatest fear. Please don’t let it.
You nailed it, sweetie. What hurts is knowing because of that plea for attention, people now look at my story, the next person’s story and wonder whether it’s fact or fiction.
Exactly what Anissa said. It’s a humbling thought – especially when it’s put so concisely by you – that maybe, even if they are truths, we don’t need the ANDs.
Maura / @moburns67
You said exactly what I’ve been thinking. Thank you for expressing it so eloquently.
wow this is just amazing
I suppose there is aback story I will never know.
Truly heartbreaking. I do hope she sees this.
Probably the best way I’ve heard this frustration put into words. I’ve had the same fear that I would start doubting everyone’s survival stories. But you just have to learn to trust people until they give you a reason not to.
And I have a feeling she will read this somehow, eventually.
You did this beautifully, my friend.
Painfully felt, wonderfully written and expressed.
Though I am lost to the back story, I think you stated this very well.
Powerful and painful. I just read Wess Stafford (CEO of Compassion International’s) book “Too small to ignore” which documents his years of abuse and how they have driven him in his cause to fight on behalf of kids everywhere. I would be shattered if any detail was untrue. Because it would be the first thread pulled in danger of unraveling the whole story. You are so right that every strand of truth matters.
words are so powerful.
Angie [A Whole Lot of Nothing]
That pleading need for attention at no cost is an illness. I can only hope she is getting the help she so desperately needs.