I am very positive about the future, about my future. I have no idea what will happen, but for the first time in a long time I feel like I actually have a future - I don't have this massive secret weighing me down, I don't spend all of my energy thinking about the trial. I can actually put all of my energy in to fixing myself.
And that feels good. So good.
However, it's going to be a long, long road. Because the guilty verdict doesn't mean that I'll stop having flashbacks. It doesn't mean that I'll stop hearing his voice in my head. A guilty verdict doesn't undo what he did. What a guilty verdict does mean is that I can finally stop being scared of him - he can never hurt me again. A guilty verdict means that I can rebuild my life, and myself. It means that I can finally start to heal.
But it is difficult. Because people think 'why are you still depressed? Why are you still suffering from PTSD? Why are you still having nightmares? He's behind bars, move on'. They don't understand when I tell them that I'm still living with the consequences of his actions. He is going to serve his time - justice has been won. But I'm still living with the trauma.
It devastated me. I don't often talk about it in detail, because I know how upsetting it is for my parents. I know they read my blog, and I know that at times reading my blog is extremely painful for them. But I need to tell the truth.
Childhood sexual abuse is devastating. I was exposed to things I should never have been exposed to - not until I was sexually mature. I wasn't, I was 12. That is a long way from being sexually mature. My view on sex was completely warped. He taught me that love equals sex. He taught me that friendship equals sex. He taught me that my self-worth is intertwined with sex. He taught me that in order to be valued, I need to give some sort of sexual favour. Without sex, I was nothing.
He taught me that it doesn't matter whether or not I want to have sex - he would just take it anyway. He made me rely on him completely. He made me hate myself.
So I have a long, long way to go. I am unlearning all of this filth that he taught me. I am rebuilding myself. I am learning to recognise healthy and non-healthy relationships. I know that I am worth a hell of a lot better than the way I have been treated in the best.
In the past 13 years I have been looking to be loved, but I have been looking in all the wrong places. I have clung on to anyone that showed me any sort of interest. I have let myself be treated like dirt, because I thought that that was how you treated someone you love. I thought that that was what love is. I have done many, many things that I regret. All because I was taught that the only way to be friends or to get someone to love me was by giving away my body. So of course I attracted the wrong kind of people.
No more. I am worth more than that. I deserve better than that. I deserve better than what I have been seeking.
I'm making a lot of steps towards a healthier, happier life. But I still have a long way to go. Tonight I am suffering from insomnia. Tonight I had a flashback. Tonight I head his voice. But tonight I also realised that I wasn't scared. That I am a survivor, and that life is going to get better. Tonight I realised that I'm a lot stronger than I ever thought possible, and that I am worthy of happiness and love, and I sure as hell won't settle for anything else.
Showing posts with label intimacy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label intimacy. Show all posts
Monday, 3 December 2012
Tuesday, 12 July 2011
A vicious circle
People think that the most common reaction to rape is to shy away from human contact. Or rather, that is the reaction that society expects - any other reaction and coping strategy is frowned upon. How did I react? I craved love; I needed to feel wanted. However, because I was groomed from an early age (an age where most kids are just starting to discover what love is) my view on love was (and is) completely different to most people's.
When I was 12 until 17, he was my best friend. He was the person I told everything to. He made me need him – I couldn't imagine not having him to confide in. I know that a lot of people struggle with the idea of grooming and can't quite get their heads around it. It's very similar to Stockholm Syndrome (where you bond with your captor in order to survive). In the beginning, there was nothing sexual about it; he was there when I needed someone to talk to. Whatever drama was going on in my 12-year-old life, he was there for me. Slowly, he started to worm his way into every aspect of my life, making me think that without him I would crumble. Eventually, he would be asking me for 'favours' in return for 'supporting me'. So from an early age, anything sexual was intertwined with being friends and having someone to listen to.
I grew up thinking that if you wanted to bond with someone, that if you wanted someone to be there for you, listen to you and be a shoulder to cry on, then you should give them something physical in return. I thought that was the way things worked. Sex, close friendship and love were so completely tangled up with each other they all seemed like one thing. I didn't think you could have one without the other.
Then he raped me. For a long time afterwards, yes, I did withdraw in to myself. I didn't want to get close to anyone for fear of what might happen, for fear of getting hurt, both physically and emotionally.
I don't know when or why I started to change, but I did. Part of me wanted to take back what he had stolen from me. I wanted to say "see, I’m moving on from being raped, you don't affect me anymore". I wanted to prove to him that I had control of my body, that I could choose to be with someone. However, an even bigger part of me just wanted to be close to someone again. I suppose I was lonely and wanted to reach out to people - I wanted a normal, healthy relationship, yet I had no idea how to get close to someone and have a relationship without being physical.
It soon became very clear that even though I wanted more – that wasn't what most people wanted. In their eyes it was "wham, bam, thank you ma'am". This of course just meant that I ended up feeling even worse than I did before – I felt used, I felt like a faceless one night stand, I felt empty. It was a horrible, horrible feeling. I truly felt alone and unloved. So, needing to feel loved, I would again seek out someone to be close to, which in turn made me feel much, much worse than before. It was a vicious circle that I couldn't seem to get out of.
In all honestly, I still haven't managed to completely untangle those three things. I still have moments where I stumble – if I'm feeling low then of course I look for something – someone – that will make me feel better, that will make me feel wanted. Or if I start to develop feelings for someone, or I think that someone is interested in me, then I always seem to manage to chase that person away by 'giving it up' too soon. Again, I always end up feeling much, much worse afterwards.
All of this is something I'm working on though. After all, how can I expect someone to respect me and want to be with me, when my actions say that I don't respect myself? Yes, it's going to take a long time to completely untangle these three things, but bit by bit, I’m getting there.
Me
When I was 12 until 17, he was my best friend. He was the person I told everything to. He made me need him – I couldn't imagine not having him to confide in. I know that a lot of people struggle with the idea of grooming and can't quite get their heads around it. It's very similar to Stockholm Syndrome (where you bond with your captor in order to survive). In the beginning, there was nothing sexual about it; he was there when I needed someone to talk to. Whatever drama was going on in my 12-year-old life, he was there for me. Slowly, he started to worm his way into every aspect of my life, making me think that without him I would crumble. Eventually, he would be asking me for 'favours' in return for 'supporting me'. So from an early age, anything sexual was intertwined with being friends and having someone to listen to.
I grew up thinking that if you wanted to bond with someone, that if you wanted someone to be there for you, listen to you and be a shoulder to cry on, then you should give them something physical in return. I thought that was the way things worked. Sex, close friendship and love were so completely tangled up with each other they all seemed like one thing. I didn't think you could have one without the other.
Then he raped me. For a long time afterwards, yes, I did withdraw in to myself. I didn't want to get close to anyone for fear of what might happen, for fear of getting hurt, both physically and emotionally.
I don't know when or why I started to change, but I did. Part of me wanted to take back what he had stolen from me. I wanted to say "see, I’m moving on from being raped, you don't affect me anymore". I wanted to prove to him that I had control of my body, that I could choose to be with someone. However, an even bigger part of me just wanted to be close to someone again. I suppose I was lonely and wanted to reach out to people - I wanted a normal, healthy relationship, yet I had no idea how to get close to someone and have a relationship without being physical.
It soon became very clear that even though I wanted more – that wasn't what most people wanted. In their eyes it was "wham, bam, thank you ma'am". This of course just meant that I ended up feeling even worse than I did before – I felt used, I felt like a faceless one night stand, I felt empty. It was a horrible, horrible feeling. I truly felt alone and unloved. So, needing to feel loved, I would again seek out someone to be close to, which in turn made me feel much, much worse than before. It was a vicious circle that I couldn't seem to get out of.
In all honestly, I still haven't managed to completely untangle those three things. I still have moments where I stumble – if I'm feeling low then of course I look for something – someone – that will make me feel better, that will make me feel wanted. Or if I start to develop feelings for someone, or I think that someone is interested in me, then I always seem to manage to chase that person away by 'giving it up' too soon. Again, I always end up feeling much, much worse afterwards.
All of this is something I'm working on though. After all, how can I expect someone to respect me and want to be with me, when my actions say that I don't respect myself? Yes, it's going to take a long time to completely untangle these three things, but bit by bit, I’m getting there.
Me
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