Stephanie

However unintentionally, my young widowed mother abused me from the very beginning. It was most subtle and not of a sexual or physical nature. But I’ve come to learn that emotional, mental, and psychological abuse takes away one’s personal freedom in such a way that it is, indeed, physical violence nonetheless.

My body was so bound up with invisible cords of violated emotion, mind, and psyche, that I could only feel and know and live and believe myself to be the binding. I lost my sense of self and the knowledge that I have the right to choose. Every angry, controlling word and look with which my mother had both silently and expressly threatened me, were all that was operative. She did not hold and touch me lovingly and so I learned no loving touch. From her own personal need to self-protect, she petrified her heart against the whole world, and that world included me. My own loving heart then learned a perverse sense of vulnerability and unconditional love. It made me ripe for further violation.

So when my ex-husband’s sexual disease entered my sphere, I knew no defense. I could not see it for what it was. As his, not mine. It was as if I needed to be perpetually wrong and wronged. So it became mine. It became my nightmare to live and re-live. And it seemed I was helpless to change it.

The abuse from my ex-husband was of the very subtle type. That is, no one on the outside would ever know. We were both well educated, had respectable professional careers, a beautiful home filled with fine art. We were responsive to our families’ interests, we had nice cars, and we took great vacations.

The violation occurred in the bedroom. He was able to make me believe that he somehow owned my body for his too-hungry, unloving hands, mouth, and penis. It became sexual contact that I did not want but gave into. I didn’t know I could say, “No,” when I didn’t want him to touch me. I didn’t know – or want – to call it rape when my own spouse simply took from me the sexual contact he wanted, in the way he wanted it.

So I have lived the days, and nights, of my life as if I had no voice of my own. I lived not knowing to express any choice of my own. No thoughts or feelings of my own. There were only the same angry outbursts I learned from my mother. Outbursts which were always irrational and irrelevant. Anger directed not at the source, but skewed and deflected and seemingly insane. These painful, crazy-making outbursts became more frequent as all aspects of this not-right further infected me.

Fortunately, six years ago, he found another and left. Fortunately, each day, I’m more and more able to release the inner binds formed from my mother’s rage.

The place in me that rightfully knows and speaks and does, “Yes, I respect the person I am” and, “No, you cannot violate the boundary of my personhood,” had been hidden from me for my entire life. It’s only now, with help from many others, that I’m beginning to heal for real. It’s only now that I’m beginning to emerge as my own knowing, my own voice, my own actions, and my own loving. I’m learning, as my fundamental human right, to live all of my life as myself.

I am sincerely grateful for some great invisible kindness that’s at work in my life. I’m grateful, too, for this public place to tell my story and for you who hear me. Thank you.

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Thank you for visiting Violence UnSilenced, a speak-out platform for survivors of domestic abuse, sexual assault, and sexual abuse. If you are a survivor and it is safe to do so, we encourage you to share your story here. If you are not a survivor but you want to support those who are, please click around this site and find out more about what you can do.

20 Comments | February 3, 2011 | Filed Under effects of childhood abuse, rape, sexual abuse, survivor story

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Jennifer

Thank you for sharing. So much of our thinking is shaped by our early years, and I'm so glad you're finding a way to re-shape those thoughts and break free from the bindings that held you. It is hard work but worth every effort. Enjoy your freedom.

Stephanie

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