Cattypuss
Miaow
- Joined
- Sep 6, 2001
- Posts
- 3,666
My mum was the kind of mother you wouldn't run to if you fell over or got sick. No sympathy. No comfort. No empathy. Not the "safe place" that mothers should be. I learned that at a very young age (when I was a toddler).
I was sexually abused at age 11. A one-off. A neighbour. I was so terrified and upset that I sprinted home (I think, thinking on some level "surely for something THIS bad she'll give me some support of some kind") and, in tears, started to tell my mum what had just happened to me. She cut me off before I could even tell her what happened, and told me to go and have a shower and not tell anyone. No hug, no listening, no soft words - no safe place.
It was never spoken of again except for the next day when I said to her I was scared of walking past his house, which I had to do every day. She harshly told me to either suck up my fear or always engineer my walks for when my older brother was walking past too.
Anyhoo, what happened there was that back in 1979, when it happened, I was jolted by my mum's reaction within about three minutes of the abuse happening - and my mum's rejection of me became the more traumatic of the two events of the day (to have it proved to you at age 11 that, no matter WHAT happens to you, how hurt or upset you are, how much danger you are in etc etc etc - you are completely on your own and just have to cope like a grownup.... well, it was quite a moment for me).
And in the last 18 months or so with the help of my unbelievably supportive boyfriend and some Human Givens therapy I've been working through what 40-odd years of being my mother's daughter had done to me (I had spent my life believing very deeply I wasn't allowed to have needs or feelings and that I was not good/loveable enough to matter to anyone). Coincidentally but rather conveniently, late during this process my mum died, giving me a sense of freedom that helped a lot (there was no longer anyone on the planet who SHOULD care about me but didn't - my dad died in 2009).
Anyway, long story a bit shorter - having dealt with the trauma of my mum's reaction to the abuse, I recently found myself having, about 33 years too late, a reaction to the sexual abuse I was victim to.
I never had the child's reaction to it at the time because I was too busy reacting to my mum's final mammoth rejection of me.
And recently I had a period of about two weeks where I went through a kind of process. It happened to me - I had no control over it. It was traumatic. I went through -
All understandable. Fine.
But then I started feeling the following -
I was not happy about this stuff. Made me feel like a criminal. Like I was somehow complicit in the morally abhorrent crime that was committed against me all those years ago.
My boyfriend spent a lot of time gently reassuring me and telling me that I was not morally wrong - that I was a victim of something morally wrong who was "reclaiming" it and processing something terrible in a healthy way.
But I still have very mixed feelings about it all.
Can anyone who was sexually abused in childhood identify with any of this?
THIS IS NOT A WANK THREAD AND I DO NOT WANT ANY PMs
I was sexually abused at age 11. A one-off. A neighbour. I was so terrified and upset that I sprinted home (I think, thinking on some level "surely for something THIS bad she'll give me some support of some kind") and, in tears, started to tell my mum what had just happened to me. She cut me off before I could even tell her what happened, and told me to go and have a shower and not tell anyone. No hug, no listening, no soft words - no safe place.
It was never spoken of again except for the next day when I said to her I was scared of walking past his house, which I had to do every day. She harshly told me to either suck up my fear or always engineer my walks for when my older brother was walking past too.
Anyhoo, what happened there was that back in 1979, when it happened, I was jolted by my mum's reaction within about three minutes of the abuse happening - and my mum's rejection of me became the more traumatic of the two events of the day (to have it proved to you at age 11 that, no matter WHAT happens to you, how hurt or upset you are, how much danger you are in etc etc etc - you are completely on your own and just have to cope like a grownup.... well, it was quite a moment for me).
And in the last 18 months or so with the help of my unbelievably supportive boyfriend and some Human Givens therapy I've been working through what 40-odd years of being my mother's daughter had done to me (I had spent my life believing very deeply I wasn't allowed to have needs or feelings and that I was not good/loveable enough to matter to anyone). Coincidentally but rather conveniently, late during this process my mum died, giving me a sense of freedom that helped a lot (there was no longer anyone on the planet who SHOULD care about me but didn't - my dad died in 2009).
Anyway, long story a bit shorter - having dealt with the trauma of my mum's reaction to the abuse, I recently found myself having, about 33 years too late, a reaction to the sexual abuse I was victim to.
I never had the child's reaction to it at the time because I was too busy reacting to my mum's final mammoth rejection of me.
And recently I had a period of about two weeks where I went through a kind of process. It happened to me - I had no control over it. It was traumatic. I went through -
- fear
- disgust
- shock
- trauma
- shame
- confusion
- self-pity
All understandable. Fine.
But then I started feeling the following -
- arousal
- imaginings of "what if I'd enjoyed it and shown him I was enjoying it? how would that have played out? (had some very intense orgasms when thinking about that and touching myself)
- wanting my boyf to treat me as a little girl and "abuse" me sexually (again, when I told him and he did, immensely hot sex)
I was not happy about this stuff. Made me feel like a criminal. Like I was somehow complicit in the morally abhorrent crime that was committed against me all those years ago.
My boyfriend spent a lot of time gently reassuring me and telling me that I was not morally wrong - that I was a victim of something morally wrong who was "reclaiming" it and processing something terrible in a healthy way.
But I still have very mixed feelings about it all.
Can anyone who was sexually abused in childhood identify with any of this?
THIS IS NOT A WANK THREAD AND I DO NOT WANT ANY PMs
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