Solidarity not solitariness

I don’t know who created this image but, it’s always resonated with me because it illustrates the profound loneliness I used to feel while surrounded by my family members.

With so many other victims out there, it really pains me to think how much I was in complete agony all by myself – for decades. I kept myself alone while trying to grapple with the gut-wrenching realities of my father’s abuse. I was honest about the fact that it happened once I reached adulthood but, I kept secret just how badly the trauma shook up every part of me. I felt embarrassed about the depth of my pain. I felt shameful of my overwhelming anger. I thought my struggle would be too scary for others to hear about it so, I hid it to protect them. (My biological family has always insisted that they couldn’t handle hearing the truth about my horrors so, I assumed the rest of the world saw themselves as psychologically fragile too). It’s been a simple but, big lesson for me (and continues to be): plenty of people on this planet aren’t afraid of the dark. People who read my blog are proof of that.

The other simple yet, profoundly hard-won lesson for me has been that if I’m not ashamed, those who want to listen don’t experience any survivor shame about sexual abuse either. All the painful walls of separation that I experienced disappeared once I stopped taking responsibility for the sins and reactions of others. I wish I could go back in time and tell my former self that navigating mind-blowing trauma alone is unnecessary. Thankfully, addressing my own shame about being a sexual abuse survivor continues to close that gap. It’s easier said than done when I’m in the grips of a flashback but, as soon as I’m able, I push myself to tell a loved one all about it. So far, every time, the more courageous I am about being frank and honest about what I lived through and how it affects me now, the more deeply connected I feel to everything.