You remember Garnet, whose father completely dismissed her when she confronted him. He told her no one would believe her. That’s when she started to feel totally despondent and turned to drugs, drinking, and self-harm. She had hoped that confronting him would bring her relief, and all she got was violated all over again.
If you feel the need to say something to your abuser directly, you could try writing a letter and burning it. You could write songs and poetry. But don’t ever expect your abuser to make you feel better, because he never will. Even if you confront him and he cries and apologizes, things won’t necessarily get better. He may still have an emotional hook into you and have the ability to even make you begin to feel sorry for him, which will only lead to greater confusion. Healing is about you, healing is about forgiving yourself, releasing your pain and trauma. It is never about the abuser. The goal is for the abuser to become smaller and smaller and smaller and for you to become stronger and stronger and stronger.
I’ll say it again: You do not need to confront your abuser to heal from sexual abuse, and I don’t recommend it. Most of the time, your best bet is to get away and work through your process away from him. I have worked with hundreds of girls who have healed without ever directly confronting their abusers.
SHOULD YOU FORGIVE YOUR ABUSER?
I wanted so many times to simply have faith, to give my soul over to the care of something else, someone else, because there were times when it just felt too filthy for me to hold anymore. But then there was always some rule like “Turn the other cheek” or “Forgive and forget.” Some concept of forgiveness that I couldn’t even wrap my brain around. It seemed so incomprehensible. How do you “forgive” someone for taking away your childhood, your wonder and your innocence and your “first time” and your chance to discover yourself without dark pits and chasms opening up underneath you on the path? Maybe some people can forgive, but I always knew in my gut that I wouldn’t. It felt like a cop-out, like maybe if I avoided feeling angry about this, then my world would stay the way it was on the surface, ordinary and cheerleader-y. I am angry and I know I don’t have to “walk a mile in my stepfather’s shoes.” I don’t give a damn about his pain or “why” he did what he did to me.
—a twenty-two-year-old incest survivor
I cannot tell you how many young women survivors come to me having been told by a well-intentioned therapist or clergyperson to forgive their abuser. I say no. No, no, and no. The only person you need to forgive for your healing is yourself. That is your life journey, to forgive and love yourself. I have seen too many girls who tried to forgive ending up right back where they started, believing they were at fault in the abuse. As far as I’m concerned, forgiveness is just a kind of gift to your abuser. He is 100 percent responsible for what happened to you. You don’t owe him a thing.
Of course, you need to make peace with your own faith, and if your faith tells you that you need to forgive in order to come through, I would never want to stop you from doing that. But I will tell you that I believe clinically and psychologically that forgiveness is not necessary for healing. There is so much pressure out there to forgive, so many books, blogs, websites telling you it is the only way to heal. Again, if you feel it will help you, then go ahead and forgive, but do it for you, not for your abuser. And again, forgive yourself.
It’s almost always best to make a clean break, surround yourself with supportive people, express your emotions to people you can trust, and not worry about confrontation or forgiveness or getting closure in that way. With good support, you will get over this, you will thrive and love and be loved. You will find passion in life, friends, and happiness. It’s not something your abuser can do for you. You don’t have to allow him any more space in your heart or any more access to your body or soul.
Your mother may have forgiven your father or stepfather for molesting you. Your abuser may have served his (usually pitifully brief) time and then come back home to live with you. Maybe your parents dragged you to family therapy and forced you to learn to “forgive.” I have to tell you, I think this is criminal. I have seen it wound girls deeply and spill over into how they feel about themselves for years. If you find yourself in this scenario, please try to find people to support you. And try to find another home to live in, rather than live in the home where your abuser is back with your mother’s support. When you have the opportunity to move out, you will have the choice not to be part of a family that forgives the father who raped you. Having to live under the same roof as your abuser because your mother has forgiven him and promises things will be different is retraumatizing. I highly recommend if this happens to leave.
One girl told me that, after she told her mother about her father molesting her, her mother begged her not to go to the authorities. Her mother promised to put up a curtain for privacy in their small apartment so that she could almost have her own room. Honestly, if you cannot find a relative or friend to take you in, it is my opinion that living in a group home or foster home could be less painful than having to sit at the dinner table with your abuser because your mother has forgiven him. I have known girls who ended up living their last year of high school with a teacher’s family because her teacher could not tolerate her student having to live under the roof of her abuser with a mother who chose her husband over her daughter. So many of my clients have what they call their “chosen family.” These are their dearest friends, who are there with support, understanding, and love. You too will find your “chosen family.”
SHOULD YOU GO FOR THERAPY?
When my therapist told me the incest was not my fault and that my father was evil, I just sat there and cried.
—an eighteen-year-old incest survivor
At many points along this journey, you may find yourself wanting to talk to a professional. Fortunately, there’s more and more help out there. There are hotlines, crisis counselors, social workers, and therapists, just for starters. In fact, in most states now there are rape crisis centers where you will receive free counseling. Our Resource Center has more options.
You might want to start with a hotline. The fact that the person on the other end of the phone doesn’t know you can make it a lot less scary to open up. I have known girls who have called hotlines many times, even twenty times, before they were ready to tell someone they knew. The volunteers answering the phones are often survivors themselves and lend a very understanding ear. They won’t advise you unless you ask for specific advice; they’ll just listen to you and support you.
If you’re ready for face-to-face counseling, just be sure that the counselor is someone you trust completely. Of course, it doesn’t have to be a professional therapist. This person could be a teacher, tutor, or principal. Just find someone who cares about you.
Do be sure and understand that if you are under eighteen and there is still abuse taking place in your home, any teacher or counselor you tell at your school is obligated to report the abuse—they are mandated reporters. If you know the counselor or if she is very experienced and sensitive, she will help you with the report, but she will be obligated, legally, to make a report. If you really want to speak to that trusted counselor and are not ready to have the crime reported, you can make up a story about a “friend” “out of the country” who needs your support and you can receive comfort and advice. If you are no longer in danger, mandated reporters don’t have that legal obligation, and you may feel freer to open up.
Even though I am a therapist, I want to tell you that therapy is not the only way to heal. If you open up and find support and love, you will find healing. There are also some pretty amazing novels, films, websites, and blogs listed in our Resource Center that may really resonate with you and be part of your path to healing. And remember—running, singing, talking, playing, drawing, painting, dancing, and all the other ways you express yourself help you heal. Let it go, get it out, and you will move on. Telling someone trusted is part of the path to releasing the trauma.
If you do choose some f
orm of therapy, the most important thing is to feel comfortable with your therapist. No matter how much training or how many degrees your therapist has, if you don’t like her or him, the therapy probably won’t help you. Sometimes the experience of being in counseling with a therapist you can’t relate to can make you feel even more isolated. If you feel that your therapist has too much power or control over you, you may re-experience the abuse feelings. If that’s the case, don’t stick around. Even if your parents are forcing therapy on you, they can’t pick the person you are going to feel the most comfortable with. Only you can do that. So keep interviewing until you find the right person. Trust your instincts. If you feel comfortable, if you feel warmth and caring, if the therapist is willing to slide her payment scale for you, it does not matter what degree the therapist has. She does not need a PhD or an MD. She should have special training and experience, but the relationship is the most important part of the healing journey in therapy.
HELPFUL HINTS FOR FINDING A THERAPIST
1. Make sure you “click” with the therapist and feel unconditionally supported. If the therapist tells you to leave this stuff in the past and not talk about it, run—don’t walk—out of the office.
2. Keep looking until you find someone you can afford. Many clinics offer free or low-cost counseling to sexual-abuse survivors.
3. Find a female therapist if you possibly can. You might not feel all that comfortable talking about sex with a man, but this is a decision you have to make. That said, some incest survivors have told me that having a kind, sensitive supportive male therapist has helped them to trust men again.
4. Never allow yourself to be forced to talk about anything you’re not ready for. If you do not want to recount an experience, don’t.
5. If you are under eighteen and currently surviving incest, your therapist will be legally bound to report the crime, but a good therapist will consult you and work it out with you before she does anything. She should make sure you have a safe place to stay with a relative or friend’s family before you report the crime just in case your mother rejects you.
6. Be aware that everything said in your sessions should be kept confidential, even from your parents, unless you are a harm to yourself or others. But if you are under eighteen, your legal rights to confidentiality vary from state to state, and you may not have that legal right. HIPAA are forms you can sign beginning at age eighteen guaranteeing your privacy rights.
7. Take your time. Find the right counselor. Get well. Allow yourself the time to heal.
One of my sixteen-year-old clients defines therapy beautifully. She says that she comes in and dumps all her problems on the floor as if scattering papers. We pick one up, we look at it, we put it down. We pick up another, we work it through, we rip it up, we throw it away. And at the end of the session, we gather up all these papers and put them in a special box, up on a shelf, and leave it in my office until the next session.
One of the great benefits of therapy is that in many ways it is a one-way relationship. You do not have to worry about the therapist. She is there to help you, never to burden you with any of her personal problems. She is there for you. Therapy should provide you with a space to vent, release, process, and heal.
Healing does not necessarily come from reporting or confronting your abuser, and it certainly does not come from forgiving him. Don’t let anyone pressure you into doing any of these things. Healing comes from speaking about your experience, letting out your secrets. It is a process, a process of forgiving yourself. Healing comes from loving yourself and trusting yourself. Healing comes when you realize that your abuser is to blame, when you are able to slough off the feelings of shame and guilt. This is a very different process for every girl and every young woman. This is your life, and you deserve to walk your own path in healing.
CHAPTER 14
SUPPORTIVE FAMILIES SPEAK OUT
(Jannie’s Mother’s Story, Emily’s Mother’s Story, Pearl’s Story)
When my husband found out that his brother had molested our daughter, he went to his home, pushed him to the floor, and started to bash his head in.
—a mother of an incest survivor
So far we have heard a lot about families who sit by and do nothing to protect their daughters from abuse. We have heard about parents who loved their daughters but were blind to what was going on, mothers with their own unresolved childhood sexual abuse who married men who then molested their daughters, mothers who stood by their husbands even after the abuse was reported, fathers who were so evil that they raped their daughters and told them it was their right to do so.
Needless to say, most people do not want girls to be raped, molested, and harmed, and most parents don’t let such things happen; they would never tolerate anyone hurting their child. Most of us feel rage toward molesters, rapists, and abusers.
The following stories bring us into the worlds of some of these betrayed families. As you’ll see, many girls do have allies within their families. And you may be surprised to learn that often it takes parents much longer to heal than it does daughters. Girls are incredibly resilient, but long after their own scars of abuse have healed, their parents are often still dealing with theirs. Nonetheless, the single most important thing the parent of a sexually abused girl can do is show unconditional support.
Jannie’s father literally had a heart attack after hearing about her abuse and trying to confront the abuser. Her mother still believes his heart finally gave out because he could not bear his daughter’s abuse or the injustice that followed.
JANNIE’S MOTHER’S STORY
A Mother’s Loss
“They were mean to me. They made me do things I didn’t want to do.” These words will haunt me for the rest of my life.
When my daughter Jannie was nine years old, she went to spend a weekend at her friend Amy’s summer home in a chic area of the Jersey Shore, a hundred miles away from our Upper West Side Manhattan home. Jannie had really been looking forward to this weekend away, the last summer weekend before school. We knew Amy’s parents and certainly trusted them with the care of our only child, but I hadn’t wanted her to go. Before she left I explained that we could not pick her up if she wasn’t having a good time and said that we’d see her in three days. She seemed to understand.
When Jannie got home three days later, she went straight to her room and curled up on her bed. She made me come with her and begged me to stay with her until she fell asleep. Just before she dozed off she uttered these haunting words: “They were so mean to me. They made me do things I didn’t want to do.” I asked her what they made her do, but she wouldn’t answer. She made me check under the bed for “men” and assure her that no one could enter her window (on the twelfth floor!). This was very atypical behavior for Jannie, and I again asked her what had happened, but again she did not answer. I thought perhaps they’d made her eat peas and carrots or something trivial like that. I remember being a bit annoyed and acting abrupt.
Jannie woke up the next morning and went off to school just fine. She seemed all right. And for eight years she never mentioned that weekend again. I will never forgive myself for being so flip and maybe making her feel that she couldn’t talk to me. I can’t stop thinking about how I didn’t press the issue or beg her to tell me what she meant by those ominous words. It taught me that you should never trivialize what a child says to you.
Jannie’s adolescent years were very rocky. She had learning problems and hence some of the other problems that typically result—feeling a bit left out socially, bouts with depression. We were a loving family, but I guess our love wasn’t enough to take away Jannie’s depression.
At age sixteen Jannie made a suicide attempt and was hospitalized. It was in a family therapy session in the hospital that we learned what had happened to Jannie on that weekend so many years before. The hospital reassured her of her safety telling.
Amy’s father had brutally raped and sodomized Jannie. She had just turned nine years old. He told
her that if she was a good girl and never ever told anyone, he would not do it again. He told her that it was a very private, important secret and that harm would come to her family if she told. He pricked his finger with a pin and then pricked hers, and then put their fingers together and explained that this gave them a blood connection. He exploited my poor little girl’s insecurity over being adopted. How sick is that? He also said that because she was adopted, she could be taken away from us if she told.
Well, she believed this man, this so-called pillar of the church and community. And she never told until she had to because she was crawling out of her skin.
When my husband heard Jannie describe the rape, he totally lost it. He made us go to their house straight from the hospital, and he practically broke his hand banging on the door. They let us in, of course, and my husband lunged at the father. His wife and I had to pull him off. At that point we noticed their daughter Amy crawl under the table. My husband was so enraged he had a heart attack.
After his hospitalization, we began legal proceedings. As helpful and nice as all the police and lawyers were, they made it clear that our daughter would have to testify. Initially, she agreed. But she became so frightened to face Amy’s father in a trial that she cut her wrists. At that point we agreed with the doctors that Jannie could not go through with it.
Jannie also asked us not to tell our friends; she needed her privacy. So my husband and I could confide only in our therapists. Once when we saw the abuser on the street, my husband spat at him. We spent many sleepless nights together trying to figure out how to punish this man. For a few years, my husband would go down to the Fulton Fish Market on Sundays and get some dead fish and put them outside the door of his home. The dead fish was an Italian threat that someone was to be killed. He also sent him threatening letters.
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