I was told to keep a secret. I was told that I would be severely punished if I ever let anyone know. The secret offered me protection to know that I was safe within its entrapment. As long as I kept this secret I would be offered the privelage of love and acknowledgement. My value and worth would be cherished by this someone. Someone I looked up to, someone I trusted, someone who made me feel special at a time in my life that I was most scared, lonely and missing my Mom.
My sexual abuse began when I was about three years old and continued until I was about 8 years old. At this point my Mother was able to immigrate us to the United States. My sexual abuse was extremely psychological. The main perpetrator truly believed he was in love with me. My Mother, who had no knowledge of the abuse, continued to give me cards and letters that he would mail to me when we moved to the United States from Colombia. All contact did not stop until my Mother finally found out, about a year after our arrival. What was most damaging to my sense of sexual worth was the silence that was kept within the family even after it was found out. There was no retribution, no punishment no acknowledgment of the pain or shame that was inflicted, there was basically NOTHING. Healing began at the age of 30 when I hit rock bottom and was seriously contemplating jumping from the 59th street bridge on the Queens side. At this point in my life I was deep in the adult entertainment industry, working 7 days a week in various strip clubs and private clubs. I had left a club I was working at called Cityscape, after almost getting fired for being in a physical fight with some costumers. Instead of taking a cab to my apartment in Manhattan I chose to walk the bridge at 3'oclock in the morning. I was lost, confused, and angry. I was angry at life because I was going nowhere and the stripping, that was supposed to get me through college, had now taken over my entire existence. I saw no way out, except jumping off the bridge. And as I stood there trying to plan out my jump, I saw a figure coming towards me, I turned, held on to the railing on the bridge and waited for the person to pass me by. They didn't, instead the person gently touched my shoulder and asked me if I was ok. It was a little Indian man, wearing a suit. His gentle touch and caring question opened up a flood gate in my chest that was unstoppable. I was crying uncontrollably and all I remember saying over and over was, "Why? what's the purpose of living? What's the purpose of trying? Why are we here?" This kind man held me and walked with me from the beginning of the bridge to the end of it (about an hour walk) All he kept saying was, "Don't worry, just hold on, this is just a test, things will get better." When we came to the other side of the bridge he asked me if I needed a ride home and pointed at his car, which was parked just in front of us. I was frozen at the reality of what had just happened. I asked him, "Your car is here and you were walking the bridge, why?" his response was, "I don't know, something told me to walk the bridge." That was the life-vest God sent me and I held on to it for dear life. I decided right then and there to acknowledge that something was not right, that I had a problem and that I needed help. In my pursuit to find something that would save me, the words "Childhood Sexual Abuse" popped up. These words brought such a deep sensation within my chest that I could hardly breath. For you see, up to that point in my life I had not thought about, talked about or recognized that this had happened to me. The secret and the silence that had so long been hidden had become the very thing that was trying to kill me by keeping me in agonizing pain. The secret was no longer a lie, it had become my reality. I was living the cycle of my abuse over and over again. I was a walking time bomb. Somehow I was blessed to find Harlem Hospital Center's Victim Support Services that offered free therapy and group meetings for survivors of sexual abuse. This was to be a baby-step in my journey to healing my sexual abuse trauma. The path to healing for me has been through accepting that what happened was out of my control, sharing with people, being open and willing to talk about it and most importantly letting go of the self blame.
If you are experiencing damaging side effects due to childhood sexual abuse, please be kind and compassionate with yourself. Treat yourself like you would someone you love dearly and seek out help, you will find it. Talk about and share your story, you'll be surprised how liberating this simple process is. And if you find yourself being angry, crying and blaming as you tell your story, have the faith to know that the pain will diminish. Know that soon you will be able to talk about your story without association. I did and still do and I can now proudly say,"I survived, I lived through it." The more I speak out about what happened the more it turns from "the secret" to "the lie." This lie is no longer my reality. Have faith, It will get better, you can heal the pain.
If you are experiencing damaging side effects due to childhood sexual abuse, please be kind and compassionate with yourself. Treat yourself like you would someone you love dearly and seek out help, you will find it. Talk about and share your story, you'll be surprised how liberating this simple process is. And if you find yourself being angry, crying and blaming as you tell your story, have the faith to know that the pain will diminish. Know that soon you will be able to talk about your story without association. I did and still do and I can now proudly say,"I survived, I lived through it." The more I speak out about what happened the more it turns from "the secret" to "the lie." This lie is no longer my reality. Have faith, It will get better, you can heal the pain.
Dawn Eden, a psychologist and a consecrated religious, shares how the lives of the saints have given her hope and aided her journey of spiritual healing after childhood sexual abuse.
This is a book that has helped me understand how suffering can be a transformational road map towards healing. Given to me at one of the many retreats I have attended with The Sisters of Life. Dawn also has her own blog, The Dawn Patrol. |