by John Friel
The facts tell a different story. As many as one in six people in this country were sexually abused as children. And in one recent study it was discovered that roughly 30% of all women and 15% of all men were sexually abused by physical contact, ranging from fondling to intercourse, while they were still children. When noncontact forms of sexual abuse are included, the figure increases to around 50% for women (Kohn, 1987).
Sexual abuse occurs most frequently when children are between the ages of 9 and 12, but it also occurs with regularity in infancy, which makes it extremely difficult for a recovering person to ever identify and deal with it.
While we basically agree with the work of Lloyd de Mause (1974), who makes a good case for the general improvement of the lot of children from ancient to present day times, the statistics on abuse and neglect in this country are still staggering. A lot of children get damaged in this country by very overt means such as beating, battering, severe neglect and sexual abuse. And this is just the tip of the iceberg. The more covert and subtle forms of abuse and neglect are only recently being studied with any precision. Those of us in the psychotherapy field see it all the time.
A great deal of what we write about in this book comes under the category of abuse. At the end of this section we offer a list of the most common types of abuse that we see. We offer the following as food for thought.
Children need to be punished to grow straight and tall, right? Perhaps. But do your children cower in fear when you show the least bit of anger? Are they fearful? Do they seem unwilling to play and have fun? Are they unusually angry and aggressive? Do they pick on the younger children in the family unmercifully? Are they moody, negative and “difficult”? If you were punished too much or too severely as a child yourself, you won’t be able to tell the difference between appropriate punishment and what we now call abuse. It’s not your fault that you can’t tell the difference. But you won’t be able to tell the difference, no matter whose fault it was.
Letting children into your marital arguments and trying to get your emotional needs met by your children is a form of emotional abuse called covert incest by many professionals including Woititz (1985). Criticizing your shy child for being too shy is emotional abuse.
Screaming at your child because you’re exhausted or have a hangover is emotional abuse. Not being there enough for your child is emotional abuse, as is hovering over your child and never letting him fall down, make mistakes on his own and recover on his own where appropriate for his age.
Many of us are quick to say, “Oh, I was lucky. My parents never fought when I was a kid. Billy’s dad was always drunk and they were always fighting.” That may be true. But finding the worst example of abuse in someone else’s life for comparison is one of the best ways to maintain our own denial about our own families. The truth is we know of few families that don’t have some of these problems. What were the problems in your family? Forget Billy’s family. Billy has to deal with that. Deal with your own.
If you are witness to the abuse of anyone else, then you are also a victim of abuse. If you observe your little sister or big brother being hurt by Mom or Dad, it does emotional violence to you, too. You may feel guilty that you were treated “better.” You may feel powerful in unhealthy ways because you were treated “better,” which will then make it hard for you to have an equal relationship with another person. You may feel frightened that if you don’t hold your breath and toe the mark, you will become the next victim of family violence. Seeing someone else be abused is called vicarious abuse, and it is just as painful, hurtful, and harmful as other kinds of abuse. Below is our list.
Emotional Abuse
Double binds (all choices given the child are negative ones)
Projection and transfer of blame onto the child
Alterations of the child’s reality (intellectual abuse), e.g., “Dad’s not drunk, he’s just tired”
Overprotecting, smothering, excusing, blaming others for the child’s problem
Fostering low self-esteem
Double messages: “Of course, I love you, dear,” (as Mom tenses up and grits her teeth)
Not talking about the abuse at all
Emotional Neglect
Failure to nurture, care for or love the child
Failure to provide structure or set limits
Not listening to, hearing or believing the child
Expecting the child to provide emotional nurturing to the parents, to make the parent feel good
Not being emotionally present due to mental illness, chemical dependency, depression, or compulsivity
Failure to encourage education or intellectual development
Physical Neglect
Lack of food, clothes, shelter
Leaving the child alone in age-inappropriate ways
Leaving a child who is too young in charge of others
Failure to provide medical care
Allowing or encouraging the use of drugs, alcohol
Failure to protect the child from the abuse of others, including spouse
Verbal Abuse
Excessive guilting, blaming, shaming
Name-calling, put-downs, comparisons
Teasing, making fun of, laughing at, belittling
Nagging, haranguing, screaming, verbal assault
Physical Abuse
Slapping, shaking, scratching, squeezing, hitting, beating with boards, sticks, belts, kitchen utensils, yardsticks, electric cords, shovels, hoses
Throwing, pushing, shoving, slamming against walls or objects
Burning, scalding, freezing
Forcing of food or water, starving
Having to watch others be physically abused
Overworking
Sexual Abuse/Neglect
Fondling, touching
Innuendos, jokes, comments, looking, leering
Exposing self to, masturbating in front of
Mutual masturbation
Oral sex, anal sex, intercourse
Penetration with fingers or objects
Stripping and sexual punishments/enemas
Pornography—taking pictures or forcing the child to watch
Forcing children to have sex with each other
Enforced sexual activity with animals
Watching others have sex or be abused
Sexual “games”
Sexual “torture”—burning, etc.
Not teaching children about sex—allowing sexual naivete
Not talking about puberty, menstruation, nocturnal emissions, etc.
Vicarious Abuse
A special case of abuse, in which the victim is part of a family or other system in which someone else is abused in some way. This type of abuse can be just as damaging as actually being the recipient of the other types of abuse listed above.
Perfectionism
Perfectionism is common and can be one of the most easily denied and excused flaws in any family. It is also easily misunderstood. Perfectionism includes having unrealistic expectations for self or others, and it is conveyed not only by obvious criticism and belittling, but also by more subtle means, like a well-timed frown, a downturned glance, a quizzical look coupled with a pregnant pause, or a smirk disguised as a lack of understanding.
“You were embarrassed at that party?” Dad asks innocently, with an edge of contempt at your vulnerability in his voice. “What were you embarrassed for?” he adds. What a trap! He obviously doesn’t approve of your feeling embarrassed, but he also wants to know why you were embarrassed. No matter what you say now, you’re in trouble and the message is strong and clear no matter what. “We don’t get embarrassed in our family.” You failed. You didn’t meet the expectation.
Or take Bill for another example. When he worked on cars with his father, he learned a tremendous amount about automobile engines. By the age of 13 he could tear an engine apart and put it back together again. Yet at the end of every weekend of working on cars, he was always left with a knot in his stomach and a feeling of wort
hlessness in his heart because of his father’s critical perfectionism about keeping the garage “perfect.” Instead of telling Bill’s mother, “Boy, Bill sure did a great job on that car today!” which would have been true, he more often than not would say, “Well, someday he’ll learn how to be a real mechanic, when he learns to keep the damned garage clean!”
Perfectionism, in our opinion, is an unhappy person’s way to hang onto the illusion that his life is under control. Perfectionism grows out of unhappiness and is the breeding ground for constant criticism. And constant criticism is the surest way to leave a child with a deep sense of worthlessness and shame. Think of some of the perfectionistic, critical statements that you received from your parents or teachers or boss, or of the ones that you give to your own children.
“Why did you spill your milk, Susie? Can’t you do anything right?”
“Do you have to wear that tie?”
“I wish you could be like your big brother. He always . . . ”
“It’s fine that you got three A’s and a B, but what’s this C for?”
“Why do you want to be an art major? You won’t make any money doing that.”
“What did you do that for?”
“You don’t think of anyone except yourself.”
“That’s not the way the dishes are supposed to go in the dishwasher!”
“Look at you, you’re a mess!”
“Can’t you say anything that makes sense?”
The list goes on and on, but we hope the point is made. Constant criticism and perfectionism affects everyone in the family, including the one who is doing the criticizing. It produces not only shame, but eventually distances us from the people who are doing the criticizing. It makes us unhappy. It leaves a cloud hanging in the air over everything we feel and do and say.
People who grow up in critical families will eventually internalize all of those messages so that when they enter adulthood, they will unconsciously do the same thing to themselves. A little voice inside of them will always be saying, “This isn’t good enough. You’re not doing it right. There’s something wrong with you.” That’s right. There’s something wrong with you. I spill the milk and therefore there’s something wrong with me? With my very being? With my identity? Does that make sense? It doesn’t have to make sense, but it’s exactly what happens. And it’s very sad that it does. There is no room for mistakes.
Rigid Rules, Lifestyle And/Or Belief Systems
There is only one right way to be. There is only one right way to do it. I must be in control at all times or my life will topple. An awful lot of compulsive behavior and obsessive thinking comes under this heading. It is one thing to have clear beliefs and values. It is another to be a slave to those beliefs, and to force those beliefs onto someone else.
Family rituals are important. Compulsive family rituals are destructive. Is American government the only one that works? Is it the only one that allows individual dignity? Is your church or religion the only one that can meet a person’s need for spirituality? Are your political beliefs the only ones that are right? Must all children go directly to college after high school in order to make a success of their lives? Must boys not cry? Must girls become mothers to be fulfilled?
It doesn’t matter that we’re all tired and crabby. We said we were going to drive until we got to Florida today, and by God, that’s what we’re going to do. No matter that Mom isn’t feeling well and needs to sleep. We need to get the house clean, and that’s what we’re going to do.
Compulsive, rigid rituals rob life of its spontaneity. The fun, the surprises in life, the unpredictability and the magic in life are viewed as dangerous and threatening. Joy is replaced by routine. Happiness is replaced by a dull plodding lifestyle that is neat and tidy, but empty and lonely. Those of us who grow up in rigid families find the normal confusion of interpersonal relationships, the ups and downs of friendship and the normal unpredictability of changing social networks to be more than we can bear. As adults, we seek out rigid, controlled relationships and social systems where the rules of life are spelled out in black and white. Unfortunately, life doesn’t always work that way. And when life takes one of its unpredictable little turns, we are left feeling scared, cheated and manipulated, with no emotional tools for handling the uncontrollable. Part of living a full, happy life is being able to let go of the uncontrollable. Growing up in rigid, compulsive families does not prepare us at all for letting go.
The “No Talk Rule”/
Keeping “The Family Secrets”
Do you remember the old saying, “Don’t air your dirty laundry in public”? Somewhere along the line this call for tact and discretion has become the battle cry of dysfunctional families. Granted, it probably does not make much sense to take out a full-page ad in your local newspaper announcing that Uncle Joe is an alcoholic. But have we gone overboard in the other direction?
In dysfunctional families, this rule means “Don’t yell for help when you’re about to drown.” It means little children must go to school every day, smiles on their faces and knots in their stomachs, because they have been up half the night listening to their parents have a bloody battle over money, or alcohol, or in-laws. It means those same children dare not try to share their pain with a friend or a school counselor because if they do, they will be emotionally or physically beaten or shamed for sharing “family secrets” outside the family. Above all, it means that we will grow up to believe that we must handle all of our problems by ourselves, alone, in isolation.
“Don’t you be talking about our problems with Mrs. Smith.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“We don’t talk about those things in this family.”
We all know the feeling. Something is upsetting us at home. We wish we could share it with someone to get a new perspective on things. But a little voice inside of us says, “If you let them know what’s inside, they’ll think you’re crazy!” Or maybe it’s, “They won’t believe you anyway, or they won’t understand or . . .” This rule is especially dangerous and destructive because it keeps family systems completely closed.
Remember Sandy’s mother? She tried talking with a friend whose husband was in A.A., and her own husband threatened her so severely that she never spoke to her friend again. This kind of rule, in its extreme, is the worst form of tyranny. In milder forms, it leaves children with the belief that what is inside of them is bad unless it fits the family rules for what is and is not appropriate to talk about.
Menstruation? “It just happens. Don’t talk about it.” Anger? “We don’t get angry at each other in this family.” And so we are left feeling that a big chunk of our insides is bad. “If we don’t talk about it, it will go away,” we tell ourselves; but it never does.
Tina and Frank didn’t talk about what was truly inside of them, until one day what was inside of Tina burst forth with such explosive force that she thought she was literally going insane. As noted psychotherapist Carl Rogers (1973) says, any persistent feeling should be expressed in a relationship, even if it seems trivial. If not, the resentment that builds eventually reaches destructive force and then we really have a mess on our hands. With the “No Talk Rule,” these things never get expressed.
Within dysfunctional families, each family member will argue that they do share their problems—with someone else in the family. If the system is dysfunctional, then sharing the problems only with those in the system will do nothing but feed the sickness.
Dysfunction feeds on dysfunction. We become so mired in our own family problems that no one within the family has any vision whatsoever. It is like the blind leading the blind or the helpless helping the helpless, which in the long run never helps. Constructive change never happens in these systems until someone breaks out of the system. Very often this someone will be an alcoholic who kills someone while driving drunk, or a teenager who gets caught selling drugs, or a husband or wife who gets caught having an affair. Fresh air cannot get into these systems u
ntil something cracks this powerful wall of “Don’t talk.”
Inability to Identify or Express Feelings
This is a by-product of the “No Talk Rule” and of criticism and control within a family.
“Good children don’t hate their brothers or sisters,” we hear. And so when we feel angry at our sibling, we don’t know what to do with it. The anger gets buried beneath a set of rules. Eventually a lot of other feelings get buried along with the anger. Feelings of sadness, hurt, fear and shame. As adults, we walk around with a mask on, behaving in ways and expressing feelings which we think are appropriate, which we think will lead to happiness. Instead, what happens is that we learn to deny who we are, we deny what we feel and we deny the reality around us. This perhaps is the ultimate error we make as we continually step into our own traps.
We don’t learn from experience because it is too painful to admit our true feelings surrounding that experience.
“Oh, yes, I just stepped in a bear trap. Well, not all bear traps are bad, you know. I mean, without bear traps, where would we be? We wouldn’t have safe parks, we wouldn’t have bear-skin rugs.” With our foot bloody and our ankle shattered, we say, “No, it doesn’t hurt that much. Those things happen.”
If this sounds far-fetched, think of what we say when we are in a relationship where we aren’t getting our needs met.
“She stood me up for the fifth time in a row. Oh, well, I understand. She had to work late. She needed her time out with the girls. She . . .” To admit our true feelings in these situations would mean that we would have to admit a painful reality, that a bear trap has shattered our ankle and it hurts like hell, or that “she” is not good for us and doesn’t respect us.
To admit that I feel lonely in my family would mean that there is something wrong. Because I am in a closed family system with a “No Talk Rule,” there is no way for me to know if it is me who is wrong or my family who is wrong. Even if I am clever enough to realize that there is something wrong with my family system, I am part of that family system, whether consciously or unconsciously so, and therefore there must be something wrong with me, too. So it is much easier to just say, “I am wrong,” or “I am bad,” or “I am dirty,” or “I am crazy.” From there, it is a simple hop, skip and a jump to say, “I don’t want to feel this at all. I’ll just pretend it doesn’t hurt and then maybe it will all go away.”
