This morning is hard. I had a ‘moment’ where I realized that my first sexual acting out was at about three and a half. My rather clear memories of that were that I was just ‘supposed’ to do that. Now, as an adult I realize that in order to have such a clear sense of place associated with sex acts I was probably being molested at about Shanna’s age. I simply cannot conceive of anyone being such a monster that they would hurt a baby like that. But someone (someones?) did. It is becoming harder and harder for me to continue to have the self-narrative that I was just sexually precocious and any of what happened to me as a kid was by choice.
This is really really hard.
It’s damned hard. I suspect it’s easier for some molesters to do such things to babies and toddlers because they can convince themselves that the child won’t remember or understand.
My father molested me and at least 2 of my sisters when we were that age. The damage done is extensive.
My father molested his sister, my sister, both of my brothers, and there are several other kids we highly suspect he messed with. And my father didn’t stop until folks moved away as teenagers.
But I’m a terrible person for prosecuting.
You are not a terrible person for prosecuting.
There are people who can’t deal with the sickness and stench of what you decided to not hide, and while they might call you names and be evil to you for forcing them on some level to acknowledge the crap you father did.
I would be surprised if there wasn’t a history of abuse going back more generations that has always been covered up and glossed over in his family. In many families, pretending there isn’t an issue is the only way to deal with things of this magnitude.
I’m sorry you got the shit you did for doing the right thing.
I only wish I had the courage to prosecute my sexual abuser. Instead I have been spending 7 years in therapy doing EMDR to work through it and how it now affects me as a parent. I don’t trust ANYONE with my son except my husband.
Hugs.
Re: the self-narrative…I’m slowly working through something similar. I’ve oscillated between “I chose to log onto those chatrooms and participate” and “I had no choice, I was abused” and I haven’t settled yet.
Always available to chat if you want to.
There are things I did when I was an adolescent that I did because I wanted to. But I wanted to because I was seriously damaged from a severely abusive childhood.
Where is the ‘want to’ in that? Where is the choice?
Mm. Good point. I know some of my actions were like that. Our life experiences tell us what is good and, therefore, inform our wants. In reality I guess we don’t have that many actual choices.
Something I’ve been thinking about the last few days is how little the effects of sexual abuse on sexuality is talked about. The emotional stuff, sure…but not sexual. I know my sexual preferences were definitely affected.
The whole self-narrative thing is something I’m trying to let go of, actually…for me they end up being justifications. And I’m trying to convince myself I don’t need to justify my existence. That, no really, it is okay to be me.
I am struggling with my own baggage around some of this, but…yeah. That’s a hard question.
What you’re doing now is by choice, though, and you’re choosing to actually *look* at this and try to see it clearly. I have so much respect for you, and so much compassion for how difficult I imagine it must be.
This week’s Savage Love is slightly related
http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/SavageLove?oid=4362335
I’m sorry you’re going through the difficult emotions, but glad if you’re finding resolution in the process.
I know it is harder to deal with, when you see your own tender and innocent child at that age, and realize what you lost.
I’ve had a similar issue around a very sexually explicit ‘recurring dream’ I thought I was having when I was around 4 or 5. If it wasn’t really a dream, my psyche is obviously still keeping the full truth from me – and that’s okay. Here, some 50 years later, I’m not sure I really need to know more.