Boyhood Shadows

I appreciate the feminist idea that the personal is political, and in that vein, talking about my experience of sexual abuse in a public setting is a political act, and hopefully, an act that frees other people from the burden of silence and gives them permission to speak about their experience. In America, statistics show that 1 and 6 men have reported sexual abuse in their lifetime. Researchers often feel that this number is an underrepresentation due to the common myths out there about sexual abuse of men and boys. Some myths are centered around survivors’ sexual orientation, victim blaming, and their masculinity. These myths often lead to barriers to male survivors seeking treatment after an assault and make the victim carry a shame that is not theirs. 

Since we are currently in Sexual Assault Awareness Month, I will briefly share my story of childhood sexual abuse. My experience of abuse happened when I was a young child. I don’t have clear memories of these events, which is sometimes a difficult thing. However, what I do remember is the outcome. I remember giving testimony at a deposition. There were 13 other children from the neighborhood that came forward and this resulted in a conviction. 

Although I don’t have clear memories of what happened, my subconscious mind knew something terrible happened and that I shouldn’t speak about it. On one leveI I knew that it happened. I had memories of it, but emotionally, I could not make sense of it, especially as a child. As a trauma response, I developed defense mechanisms to keep me safe. I created a system within my spirituality that if I was perfect then God would protect me. This impossible pursuit of perfection led me to hate my real, imperfect, self. I was terrified of negative feedback from others even as I held a long list of my failings.  

In my effort to be perfect, I pushed myself hard with an inner cruelty that surprised other people when they caught a glimpse of it. From the outside I was an overachiever reaching all my goals. No one knew I was suffering on the inside until I pushed myself too hard and broke down, sometimes weeping over insignificant things, punching doors until my knuckles bled, or struggling through bouts of depression. 

Numbness and depression were other ways I coped.  In college the depression got so bad that I came close to dropping out. Finally I started seeing a therapist that I clicked with and began to deal with the trauma underlying my depression. The numbness covered pain and rage that seemed bottomless and I couldn't see a way through it. With time and care I was able to drop the pursuit of perfection and start to nurture my real imperfect self.

This started the long road of holding myself with love and compassion and, somewhat paradoxically, to real growth and change. I began my journey of post-traumatic growth as mentioned in the previous post. As I said in that post, I would never call what happened to me good. But I know that I've made a lot of good come out of my experience.  I can deeply empathize with others and see the world more accurately. I meet people in the depths of pain and rage without fear and hold onto hope with and for them. This perspective stems in large part from my post-traumatic growth. I'm really grateful for all the good that has come out of it.

I've been fortunate to be trained as a therapist and to work with people dealing with this kind of trauma in their own life. I have had the privilege of often being the first or sometimes the only person that people disclose their sexual abuse to. It is a weighty moment to be aware of the awful things people do and to experience the bravery of someone breaking the silence. It is a beautiful and inspiring thing to see my patients take something so traumatic, so painful, so destructive, and so shame-inducing and to be able to resolve those feelings and heal from the experience. To take a quote from our last blog post, always remember that "there is healing on the other side of trauma".

In honor of Sexual Assault Awareness Month, on April 27th, Full Life worked with the Sexual Assault Resource Agency (SARA) and The Women’s Initiative to show Boyhood Shadows at the Violet Crown. The title of the documentary is reminiscent of how I felt, and I’m sure how many survivors of sexual abuse felt.  I swore I'd never tell and that my abuse would stay in the shadows. However, I decided not to be quiet about my abuse and to use my voice for my fellow survivors. At the event there was resolve to keep speaking up about what some deem unspeakable and to listening to survivors telling their stories thus breaking the silence and opening up the conversation for more people to find their healing from sexual abuse.

Written from Hunter's perspective in collaboration with Shirnell Lewis.