I was about six years old when I was first sexually abused. My father performed oral sex on me and made me perform oral sex on him. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was an innocent child. As painful and horrendous that act and those to follow were, I needed to learn very quickly how to keep dark and painful secrets from my siblings and my mother, otherwise the consequences would be more than severe.
Horrendous acts of sexual, physical and emotional abuse continued until the age of ten. I call it the “reign of terror”, something that still haunts me to his day. I don’t know how many times I was sexually abused, I didn’t count and didn’t want to count.
Along with the sexual abuse, came the “torture” sessions. My father had a hideaway in the garage. A room with a specific purpose of creating fear and physical abuse just for me. Many things went on in that god forsaken dungeon, things that I still can’t verbalise because its still too raw. But I do remember that for my own survival and that of my mother, I would keep silent through all of it and take whatever was given. You see I was a plaything to him, something that he needed to keep alive just, so that the game would never end.
I’d never felt so alone in my life and at the age of nine, I unnsuccessfully tried to take my own life. I was never taught that my body was “mine”, I was taught that it was someone else's .
There are many of us out there, more than there should be. Many of us still hide in the shadows, protecting ourselves from prying eyes and trying to maintain a “normal” life. We are all courageous, resilient and worthy. But we live in constant fear knowing that when we disclose our very deepest secrets, that we will be judged by our family, friends and our society.
We feel shame, guilt , fear and dirty. Most of us try to cope the best we can, some of us use alcohol and drugs to ease our pain. We often isolate ourselves from a world that still stigmatises us, from family and friends and our loved ones. We struggle with finding value in ourselves each and everyday. We sometimes put on “masks” in order to not to reveal the complexities of what happened two us and so that we can avoid the stigma that still permeates in our society.
We watch the news and see stories like ours which go unpunished though a justice system that views us as “unreliable” or at worst liars. We tremble with fear when the justice system dishes out lenient sentences to rapists and then society wonders why most of us don’t want to report the abuse.
I’m often met with amazement that I don’t reinforce people’s image of a survivor of sexual abuse. It can get extremely lonely for survivors as they struggle to connect with others who enable them to be honest, accept them unconditionally and don’t silence them further by promoting their own agendas and expectations. Our society still nourishes the silence of survivors through a refusal to accept the truth and show compassion and empathy towards them is a cancer that is as devastating as the abuse itself.
As survivors heal they acknowledge to themselves and others that they‘ve been abused and find their voice, which they denied during the abuse in order to survive. Today, I have to relearn the what my values are and the ones that I already have, I am uncompromising about. As I discover myself and heal from the past, I know that I tough decisions will need to be made.
So how do we make real and fundamental changes to society that “nourishes” the silence of survivors? Well, we need more survivors to speak out without feeling guilt, shame and fear. For society to have an open and honest discussion about sexual abuse and most importantly, for survivors to feel as though they have been listened to.