Mary
I read a survivor’s story of childhood sexual abuse at the hands of another boy… and I cried.
Not for this particular woman. She’s strong. She’s a survivor. She has chosen the path towards healing…and even though that path may take a lifetime it will be a lifetime of growth and positive change…and even though that path will be filled many times with pain it will be tempered with well deserved pride and joy at all she has overcome and with whom she has become.
No…the person I cry for is a little seven year old boy who for some reason probably thought his perverted behavior was normal. I cry for the little boy who grew up to adulthood and chose a very different path than the survivor chose. I cry because I wonder what created that behavior. I wonder who abused him. I wonder why he never had an adult in his life who saw what he was doing and reached out to him and gave him the help he needed to begin the healing process. Don’t get me wrong…I don’t condone his actions. I don’t excuse him. But where were the adults in his life who loved him enough to stop him? Where were the adults in his life who loved him enough to get him the help he needed…when he was a seven year old little boy? I cry because he grew up to continue the cycle of abuse.
And I realize I cry for my pain.
The pain of loving younger brothers and sisters who chose very different paths than I did. The pain of cutting myself off from their sick and abusive choices. The pain of knowing what they were like when they were babies, toddlers, preschoolers…tender hearted, gentle, inquisitive…and knowing what they are now.
I cry for my youngest sister who endured being raped by my youngest brother almost nightly for years before I found out. I cry for her growing up and going from one abusive partner to another. I cry for her three children who were also raped and abused by those same partners. I cry for the children her kids will most likely abuse in the future because they are not dealing with their past in a healthy way.
I cry for that same youngest brother who was molested and raped as a little boy by older sisters. I cry for those older sisters who weren’t strong enough to fight off an older brother when they were still toddlers. I cry for that older brother who tried to force me to suck his penis when he was only eleven. I cry for him even as I remember him holding me down and raping me when he was older and stronger. I cry for the atrocities forced upon him although I don’t know for sure what they were.
I cry for the little boy that was my father and the little girl that was my mother. And their parents as children. I don’t know all the details. But I know enough. The cycle reaches back and back and back…and forward and forward and forward.
I cry for my daughters when they were young and trusting. As a young mother I dealt with the physical and emotional abuse that was rampant throughout my childhood. I made sure that those aspects were not a part of my parenting. I taught them about safe touch and always telling a trusted adult when something didn’t feel right. I did so many things right. But I hadn’t yet actively remembered the extreme sexual and ritualistic abuse that I had endured as a child. I was open and honest with the man I married, the father of those girls. And still the cycle repeated itself. They too were subjected to rape and abuse by the daddy they loved and trusted.
I cry for family members I haven’t had contact with in over twenty years. They hurt me. They hurt others. They raped and molested and abused. Yet…they too were subjected to those same atrocities. They too were once little, defenseless, alone… They too were once victims. And now they are perpetrators. At different times in my life I have hated them. Yet always…beneath that strong hate…that overriding fear…that pervasive sense of terror…there has also been love.
As soon as I discovered what my daughters had been subjected to I kept them safe. I had never left them alone with my family members…only their father. Once the silence was broken…they never again spent a moment alone with him. From an extended family with over fifty first cousins and dozens of aunts and uncles they learned to create family with the four of us and whoever was healthy enough to be a part of our lives.
I don’t cry for the women my daughters became. They are strong. They are survivors. They have chosen the lifelong path of working towards healthiness in all relationships. I don’t cry for who I’ve become. We all experience our share of pain and sorrow and grief. But the four of us have broken the cycle. We’re each pretty awesome in our own ways.
But I do cry for my losses. I read the online newspaper from my home town. I cried when I discovered on Mother’s Day that my mom had died a month before. I cried when I discovered my baby brother on the registered sex offenders list in my home state…even while I was grateful and wished my other brother and Dad were on it also. I cried when I read the obituary for my niece’s four month old son. I cry because I only get the information that is reported in newspapers and on the internet. I don’t know the stories behind the articles.
I feel for every person who has written their “story” on Violence UnSilenced. I know first hand the depth of pain, the suffering, the horror, the fear, the terror, the tears, the inability to cry, the challenges, the unbelievably hard path to healing they have chosen.
Yet…for each of those stories of success…because that is what they are…there are the multitude of untold stories of how the perpetrators became who they are. Once again…I do not…ever…condone or excuse or trivialize what they’ve done. And I realize that some perpetrators may never have had any previous experiences to lead them to the choices they’ve made.
Yet…out of the ten kids in my family…I am the only one strong enough to choose to work (and it is constant, hard work) towards healing. Many have become and remain abusive. Some merely live in denial and allow the abuse to continue. Some have given up and just exist with what is.
But all were born, innocent and pure, into a family where betrayal and abuse and rape and violence were already the established norm of existence. None of them were responsible for the atrocities that they endured as children. And each of them is now responsible for the choices they have made in living their lives. Yet…what else did they know?
I have no answers. Only questions. And tears.
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Mary writes here. She asks that you keep all comments on Violence UnSilenced, rather than on her own blog.
35 Responses to “Mary”
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This is exactly why I was able to forgive my molester–because I had to wonder what had made her the way she was. Your strength lies in your compassion, and you’re exactly right–there is a huge difference between condoning the behavior and mourning the tragedy of a child warped into such a monster. You, and your daughters, are amazing and beautiful and strong.
I hear what you are saying. I have struggled with those same questions. What turns a child into such a monster?
You have done well to find a way out, for you and your daughters. And you are right — it is so much work, constant work.
We are the ones who will clean up the family line. Maybe not completely, but a little at a time. Because that’s what we can do. And if each generation cleans it up a little, eventually the water after us will run pure.
Thank you for sharing your story.
Thank you for sharing your story and for doing your best to end the cycle.
Thank you – for your thoughts, for your strength and for your commitment to focusing on healing and the safety of your daughters.
As a foster parent I see too often the tattered remains of those once-innocent children, and I pray that the love and safety I can provide for such a brief time will be enough to give hope to some – any- of those lost and abused souls. I pray that they, too, can find the strength to love themselves enough to stop the cycle.
I admire you, and I bless you for those tears…..they are the compassion that will help at least some find the right path.
In a story so dark and with a history of abuse woven so thick, one would find it hard to find hope and believe in a chance for change….. and then there you are, there your daughters are. Shining lights in such immense darkness, you are amazing and inspiring & I believe by sharing your story and raising your questions and concerns you will be helping many. Thank you for the path you have chosen and for sharing your story xo
I am really awed by your ability to empathize with your and your daughters’ abusers. I am not able to muster the same strength within myself. Thank you for showing us that it is possible.
“We’re each pretty awesome in our own ways.”
Amen, sister, amen. You are SO awesome for choosing differents paths for yourself and your children. I wish you all the peace, love and healing this world has to offer!
Not that there is a perfect story to describe the cyclical spiral of abuse from generation to generation, but this story perfectly describes the cyclical spiral of abuse.
And you? You. Broke. It. And that is a power. It is a mighty, mighty power and the future generations that all come from you will be safe.
Thank you for sharing your story….You are awesome. You are strong. And thank goodness your girls have a mother like you.
You are more than awesome. You have incredible power. I cry for you too, but it is in wonder of the amazing person you continue to fight to be.
Thank you.
I wish I had the empathy toward my abusive mother, who was herself abused at the hands of her father. I wish I could cry for her, but it is just not in me to do that. I had to instead let her go, make her own way.
You wrote a powerful piece here, thank you for sharing your story.
Mary, you are basically the strongest woman i know.
I’m so very sorry you, your daughters, and family had to go through that.
I admire you. You have impacted my life in so many ways and I thank you for that.
Thank you for sharing your story. You are an amazing woman and mother.
You are an amazing woman.
You are beautiful. I cry for them too.
I have tears of appreciation and beauty streaming down my face in recognition of how you’ve triumphed and blossomed and am grateful for your story. . . Thanks for sharing, Mary <3
May God wipe your tears and keep you and your daughters strong in His love…
Thank you Mary. you are indeed an awesome, strong and gentle soul.
You are a blessing in my life and that of my children and all the children you have ever taught.
Thank you for breaking the cycle and being who you are. We love you.
xoxo Mary
Thank you for this.
Mary, I am fortunate enough to have spent beautiful and precious days with you. Reading your words this day, of course brings tears to my eyes and memories of our time together to my mind, but more importantly, they bring the realization of the wonderful gift that you gave me……Your Trust!
This is one of the most moving posts I’ve read. Thank you for sharing. I am reminded of my sister in law, who was fortunate enough to end up with a wonderful foster family after escaping the twisted abuse from her family. I think of my ex husband who continues the cycle that he lived through as a child.
It is a viscous cycle yet, like you, I believe that there comes a time when each of us are responsible for our decisions………to continue the abuse or end it.
I am proud of you and your daughters. (((hugs)))
I want to thank all of you for your wonderfully supportive comments. I would love to respond personally to each and every one of them but will just take this chance to say “You all have warmed my heart. Some of you brought tears streaming down my face. I have truly felt your love and support.” Thanks!
You are amazing in so many ways. Strong enough to move forward, to break that cycle. Bravo to you and your children for being that strong.
I cry with you, for the childhoods that were taken
I cry with you, with joy, that you and your daughters have made a life beyond what you suffered
Mary -
I am so sorry. I cried through your entire post. My story is not as extensive as your story, but I feel some of the same feelings.
I’m so sorry for all of us, who endured the next cycle of abuse.
Thank you for sharing your story.
I can only say that this is brilliant.
Mary,
This brought me to me knees. “The cycle reaches back and back and back…and forward and forward and forward,” indeed.
Thank you for sharing your story here. Thank you for not staying silent, despite your tears.
May you continue your constant, hard work, in the knowledge that there are people in the world (complete strangers like me) who support you and pray for you. I wish you only peace.
Hugs
Thank you so much for sharing your story. I have cried on occasion for the child my abuser was… the little boy whose first experience with sex was watching his father rape his mother. I have cried many times for that little boy. I have even stopped to wonder what it is that caused such rage in his father… I would assume he was the product of abuse as well. I am not, however, able to find empathy for the men they became. You are much stronger than I at this point, and I wish you well as you continue on your journey of healing.
I do, too. Every day. And I think you’re very brave. Thank you for this.
It is important to separate yourselves from those who aren’t healing; but I know it does hurt. I see it in my husband’s eyes, and at least he still has his siblings and cousins. And I know myself the hurt of not being able to fix people with love. You are doing the right thing. God be with you.
I stopped the cycle, too. I wasn’t aware that he had moved on to my younger sister who was only 3 (She is now VERY MESSED UP!) until he was gone and she was 15. By that time, she was only willing to testify in family court to keep our youngest sister from having unsupervised visitation with him. They had me testify, too. I wanted to go on to criminal court. (WHY in HELL do you have to go through 2 processes??? If there is evidence, book him and throw away the key!) SHE refused and the statute of limitations applied to my case. He is in CA now and I hate to THINK who else has been victimized at his hands… not EVEN a heads up by being on the Sex offender list! UGH!
There is RIGHT and WRONG. A child is powerless in these circumstances and they truly are VICTIMS. But they KNOW what it was like to be THAT victim and they KNOW it is WRONG to become that perpetrator. The whole thing is TOO TRUE and even MORE WRONG!!
*SNIFF*SNIFF*
Thank you for having the courage to share your story and for breaking the cycle. You are amazing.
thank you for sharing your story. life is complex. hate can’t come without love, we look for compassion and forgiveness for ourselves and others. thank you