I started this blog over a year ago as a place to work out my recovery from my lifetime for abuse and incest. I have gone from promising myself I would take my deep dark secrets to my grave, to sharing my truths with the world.
I was abused by my father on nearly every level throughout my life. I was instrumentally raped by a half brother at a very young age for several years. As an adult I was a rape victim by more than one attacker. I was also once again an incest rape victim, but this time by my father's first cousin for over a year.
My life has been complicated and messy for most of my existence.
When my mother was given the truth time and again her response each time was to blame me.
My mother believed I was an over sexed child and she was in denial about how or why. She never called me over sexed but, it is the term she meant when she called me flirtatious and sinful.
I believed everything that had happened to me growing up was my fault. I believed my mother, that I was a bad child, an over sexed child. I believed I was at fault for being molested, raped, verbally and physically abused throughout my life. I believed I brought shame on my family when I talked about it and it was also my fault. I did not believe I had any value or rights to my own life.
My body was at the mercy of whomever was strong enough to bully it. My mind was under the control of whomever frightened me enough to over power me. I have lived a pathetic existence.
My family has all but disowned me and made sure to let me know my separation from them was on me. I have been told that I need to move on and stop talking about the past.
I need to stop punishing my parents for what others did to me.(Because, yeah, they had no part in abusing me.... oh wait, that's right... they DID.) I am being selfish by telling the world about what happened instead of my family. (Who wouldn't listen to what I had to say anyway.)
My family could accuse me of being selfish, manipulative, over sexed, shameful etc and get away with it, only IF I didn't matter. They could use me as the scapegoat who doesn't matter. They could throw all of their denial soaked lies about me to the world but, the problem with that is... I do in fact matter.
I would have no right to tell my story, if I did not matter.
I would have no right to hug, listen to and shed tears with other survivors if only... I did not matter.
I would be shaming my family if it were not for the one simple fact.... I DO MATTER.
My story matters, the truth about my life matters.
I have started the journey of recovery in large part because of my husband and son. My marriage matters. My son matters and I want to be a better me, for them.
One of the biggest steps that I have had to repeat time and again is learning that I have value and I matter too.
I know my family will be back with more accusations against me for speaking out about my life and truth, because in their eyes I don't matter. It would be easier for them if I was gone. It has been easier for them to not have me around back home.
I matter and my dear fellow survivors, you matter too.
Tell your story, let go of your secrets, embrace recovery and a new, better you.