Very very personal story. The person that wrote this decided to write about their experiences because most people who go through this keep to themselves. The author wants others to know they’re not alone, even if you never speak up about it. If you or anyone you know is also or has gone through something similar, please find someone to talk about it with.
Trigger warnings: sexual assault in childhood, suicide, self-harm, eating disorder
– Wes
The first time someone touched me sexually it did not come from a place of love. It didn’t even come from a place of mutual respect. It came from control and pain.
When I was 5 my cousin who’s almost ten years older than me started to molest me. I don’t remember much and I’ll spare any details I do remember because frankly they aren’t important. What’s important is how that affected me my entire life.
Nobody talks about childhood trauma and they definitely don’t talk about it if it involved sexual abuse. It’s taboo, it’s something no one wants to think about. But it happens more often than it should and it usually happens to kids by someone they know. I don’t say this to scare anyone. I say it to bring attention to the problem.
We all want to believe everyone that comes into a child’s life is there for good reason and wants to be there because they are family or a close friend or whatever the case. Sometimes people get close to children just to hurt them.
I’m not going to pretend to know why my cousin did what he did. I just know I’ve been in survival mode my entire life because of it. It wasn’t until a few years ago I realized anything even happened to me it was buried so deeply. It wasn’t until I was in a safe place and a safe relationship my brain and my body decided I was strong enough to remember.
I don’t remember much of my childhood. It wasnt until he went to prison (crimes unrelated to what he did to me) that I can even remember much of my life. I was maybe 12 years old when I started to actually be present in my life and even then it wasn’t good. I had an eating disorder, I was cutting myself, and I had even taken an attempt on my life. I did anything I could to not remember what happened to me. I took whatever control I had and abused it.
Flash forward a few more years and I meet my partner. I had never felt so safe with someone and I thought this is finally it, I’m good. But I wasn’t. A few years into our relationship I started to have real problems around sex. I was incredibly uncomfortable and couldn’t even do anything with the lights off. My partner was perfect. It was me who was going through something.
Through years of therapy, I finally realized I was sexually abused. Memories of odd encounters started coming back and finally I could put a face to who haunted all my nightmares. I started writing poetry. I told my partner. I even told my parents and that was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. To tell them their child was hurt and they had no idea.
I ran away from it for a very long time. I moved states. I cut people off. I even cut off sex for almost a year. All because one person saw a vulnerable child and exploited it. This was never something that could just go away with time or eventually I’d get over. It couldn’t be buried, because otherwise I’d never have a full and complete life. Something would always be haunting me in the back of my mind. Something I would always feel ashamed of even though it wasn’t my fault.
I was diagnosed with complex post traumatic stress disorder which is caused by prolong chronic trauma usually occurring early in life. My brain developed around danger and fear. My self worth, how I keep relationships, even how I keep a job is all wrapped up into the years I spent being abused.
Early childhood development is critical in setting up a human for success. If my mother had not gotten me into therapy when I was 12 I probably wouldn’t be here today. That intervention while my brain was still figuring its shit out kept me alive and gave me a reason to keep going. Even in the darkest times, even when it felt like my own mind was out to get me, I had the tools to fight that.
I can only face what happened to me because of years of work in therapy and opening myself up again. Even when it hurts. Even when I think I’m still in danger.
I don’t know if any of this has made sense. But, if you are going through something like this. You are not alone and you are stronger than what happened to you. You are stronger than the abusers in your life. Trauma may make you scared, but you have the ability to make yourself soft and strong again.
When I had my suicide attempt, something that night told me I wasn’t ready to go. Even at my lowest point something knew that this wasn’t right and it wasn’t how my life was supposed to end. If you have that voice, even if it’s small, listen to it and nurture it until it’s all you can hear.
