What does forgiveness mean to me? The letters I mailed

I did not start counseling planning to forgive Xavier and Tim. In fact, I had decided that if Heather brought it up quickly, we would be done. Forgiveness had left a bad taste in my mouth, and it wasn't something I wanted much to do with. There's a very unhealthy and harmful mentality among some Christians that goes something like this: Forgive or Christ won't forgive you. While scripture is mentioned, it is weaponized against victims because it is easier than facing the truth of the harm and digging into the muck of true forgiveness. In too many churches, victims are pushed to quickly say the words, "I forgive you," without having time to even understand what they are forgiving, as if that will make everything go back to normal. Even still, everyone is satisfied that the abused person has forgiven as they should, and then they pretend the abuse never happened. The victim is hastily pushed to be the one to keep the peace, as if the pain they are feeling is all their fault to begin with, and thus they are re-victimized by having all of the "healing" placed on their shoulders. The abuser has also hastily said words such as "I am sorry," even if they have done nothing to prove repentance or to make amends. Safeguards are not put in place to protect future victims because the abuser has "apologized." It readies the way for the abuser to have continued access to potential victims because most believe that whatever happened is in the past. Forgiveness is tossed around like a magical bandaid, leaving the victims silenced and the perpetrators able to abuse again. Even in my brokenness, I knew I wanted nothing to do with this kind of fake forgiveness.

True forgiveness is not the same as forgetting.  Forgiveness is not the same as reconciliation.  Forgiveness does not mean that the person should not be held accountable for their actions or that others should not still be protected. In order to forgive, you must first face the damage that was done. You cannot forgive if you do not know what you are forgiving for. True forgiveness relies only on the person who was hurt, it does not depend on the person who did the hurting. On the other hand, reconciliation requires repentance - apology and changed actions from the offender with healthy boundaries and safeguards in place. Reconciliation requires all people involved, but forgiveness can be given no matter what is going on with the other person. For me, forgiveness does not mean I would ever have any relationship or reconciliation with Xavier or Tim if given the chance, because I do not hold on to any hope of repentance from them (and even if they did offer repentance, I would still have a choice as to what I allowed into my life again and what would be healthy or unhealthy, safe or unsafe).

Forgiveness means releasing the person to God for what they have done. Instead of wishing they would fall into a bottomless sinkhole or be hit by a speeding bus, you pray for their own hearts to be healed. Instead of wishing their insides would be severed slowly by one hundred dull knives, you trust God to be the ultimate judge, with or without earthly justice. Instead of hoping everyone they love would leave them and their house would explode from a meteor strike, you truly hope and pray that they would experience the love of Christ and let Him change their hearts. It's taking the knife out of your own hand and giving it to God. (Please note that this is separate from getting the authorities involved, making sure others are protected, putting boundaries in place....the list goes on and on.) 

As it turned out, Heather never pushed me to forgive. In fact, it wasn't until God starting working in my heart and I brought it up that she broached the topic. We were almost three years into counseling at that point. Heather very much believed in forgiveness, but she knew the decision could only be mine. She was familiar with the harm that would be done if I was forced into a "brush it under the rug" type of forgiveness. 

I held on to anger because it seemed justified. It was. I was justified in being angry over the terrible things that were done to me. Anger is a healthy and important emotion. But part of holding on to that anger was a feeling of, "Don't you see what you've done to me, Xavier? Don't you see what you've done to me, Tim?" Thinking about them. Focusing my anger on them. On the other end of that, it is very unlikely they think about me at all. That anger was only hurting me. Part of the intent was to hurt them, but they weren't impacted at all. So what happened when I focused my anger on them, focused on them? They took even more of my time, even more of my emotional energy. They stole even more from me than they already had. If I let them continue to steal from me, they won. My life would be defined by them. If they destroyed me, if I let that anger destroy me, Xavier and Tim would win. And not only would they win, they wouldn't even know they had won. Even if I was able to get the revenge I so often let play through my head, if I was able to hurt them back, then what? I would be no better than they were. I would stoop to their level. So what if, instead, I was able to live my life despite what they had done? What if I would truly win by rising above their power and control, no longer being silenced by them? What if winning meant bringing to light what they intended to forever keep in darkness, bringing the truth to light?

Forgiveness only involves the person hurt, but what about when the authorities should get involved? Forgiveness does not mean preventing justice. Due to Tim's actions and choices and the decision of a judge, Tim is in jail for another 7 years of the 21 year sentence he will serve (of his 25 assigned). Once he is released, he will be monitored for the rest of his life. This is the earthly justice he was given. It has nothing to do with his actions towards me, but still, I am thankful he is being kept away from being able to hurt others. I still hope to never have to see him again, I still hope he does not move back to my hometown when he gets out of prison, I hope he is never able to hurt another child again. Xavier has not yet done something that has been provable in court, or he has at least not gotten caught. I wonder who all he has hurt, who all he will continue to hurt as long as he is not stopped. Sexual abuse and emotional abuse are extremely hard to prove in court. Often it is one person's word against another's. The abused person has to relive and retell every single detail of their abuse over and over again, many times in front of the person who abused them. Many times every detail of their lives is scrutinized, their character is scrutinized, and they may not be believed if they don't remember specific details from the time of their abuse. It is as if they are on trial along with their abuser. That can be re-traumatizing, which is one of many reasons victims rarely come forward. The percentage of abusers who are ever caught is very low, and the percentage who see any kind of time behind bars is even lower. Out of 1000 sexual assaults, only 25 perpetrators will be incarcerated for any period of time (https://www.rainn.org/statistics/criminal-justice-system). The system for protecting victims and stopping offenders needs a lot of work. I greatly respect anyone who has gone to the authorities, anyone who is fighting for justice, but I also have so much compassion for those who were never able to. Those who are able to fight for justice fight for all of us and pave a way for other victims to seek justice in the future. 

I began to try to find the "why" behind what was done to me. I needed an explanation, even though it was unlikely I would ever get one that satisfied me. Somewhere in that muck and the mire, after digging through all that Xavier had done to me, all the wounds he had caused, I started seeing him more clearly. Not just why he abused me in the moment, but how he got there. I started wondering about the man behind the monster in my memories.

Xavier, and likely Tim as well, was a narcissist when he was victimizing me. Narcissists crave control and lack empathy.  Beneath their outer shell, they fear inadequacy and rejection. As an example, perhaps they have been abandoned or rejected. If you have been abandoned or rejected, the fear of having that happen again can cause some people to want to control the next relationships to prevent that same pain. The more you can control someone, the more you can convince them that they don't deserve any better than you, and the less likely they are to leave and reject you. In this way, you think you can protect yourself from future wounds.

The story Xavier always told was that his father did not want another child after his older brother. He told Xavier's mom that he would leave if she had Xavier.  She gave birth to Xavier, and Xavier's father left; he left because she gave birth to Xavier.  It's hard to know the truth of anything Xavier told me, as I have found lies behind much of what he told me, but I do know that Xavier was raised by a single Mom, his father was not involved, and I've found multiple other families his biological father had. The story that Xavier's father left because he was born seemed so ingrained in him.  I don't know if it was true, but let's assume that it was. It makes me wonder when he was told that story, who told him. Was that always the story told? And if so, what did that do to the little boy he once was? Would he have grown up believing that his very own existence was the reason his family was split? That his very own existence caused his brother to lose his father, his Mom to lose her husband? What would that have done to his developing heart? Likewise, what would that belief have done to his older brother, the brother who had also been told that his father left because his little brother was born? How would that have impacted their relationship? How was his Mom able to continue parenting two little boys while managing her own deep wounds? The damage caused by Xavier's father leaving must have been extreme.

A strange thing happened as we started piecing together what I knew about Xavier's story. I started to realize that I, too, can have gone down the path to hurt others. If Xavier was wounded himself and then wounded me, what could I have then done out of my own wounds? Who did I pass my wounds onto? Who did I hurt? When I realized that I could have done awful things, that I could have become like my abuser, that I could have continued abusing others, it created compassion. It shook me to my core, that I could have harmed as I had been harmed. I did not take the path Xavier took, I did not become him, but still I could see things in myself that I did not like, things I was not proud of. In some small way, I could relate to my abuser. It was extremely humbling. Hurting people hurt people. Somewhere in all my assessing, I realized there was a human behind the narcissist, a human behind the abuser. Xavier was a person outside of who he was to me. He did not live in the box he lived in my head. 

Tim was harder to understand. I knew his parents. His mother had practically helped raise me, and I had known his father but did not remember him. How did he become such a monster? What led him to that place? How did Tim become a predator? Learning to have compassion for Xavier taught me a lot about having compassion even if I could not make sense of why I had been targeted and abused. God began to work on my heart even with Tim. I really cannot explain rationally the work God began in me. It does not rationally make sense that I could feel anything but revenge towards him, but yet, I found myself truly praying that Tim would experience the love of Christ, without having to pray it through clenched teeth and hatred in my eyes. 

In order to forgive, I needed to know that what happened to me mattered. I needed my pain to be validated. I could not let go until it had gotten the attention it deserved. For so long I'd felt crazy for not being able to let go of what happened, I'd felt crazy for not having the language to explain what happened. I couldn't let go because I couldn't even define the deep wounds I felt. My voice was weak, I had been silenced by Xavier, and it seemed I had to fight for myself when I barely had the strength because no one else would fight for me. In the years of counseling with Heather, she validated me. She validated my pain. She had fought for me in ways my heart needed, in the ways she got angry for me, in the ways she nurtured my heart. My husband had also learned how to validate my pain, how to walk with me through my healing. He had shown his anger towards my abusers, anger I so desperately needed to see. I had seen the love and fear in his eyes that so desperately wanted to protect me when I was triggered. I had opened up to friends in ways I had not been able to before, I had learned that I was not alone, and I had begun to gain back my voice so I could speak up for myself again. I was finally truly heard. My pain mattered. It always had, but I had not always known that it mattered. My abuse mattered. I was not crazy for the ways I had tried to self soothe. I was not crazy for still holding on to my pain. I was not crazy for the ways my body responded to things I could not control. I no longer felt like I had to stand on a mountain and scream that my pain mattered to feel heard. It was safe to let go because it was no longer just me that was validating my story. 

Once I came to the point of wanting to forgive, Heather suggested I write letters to Xavier and Tim. At first, I thought these were just for me, as were all of the prior letters I had written in counseling. But this time she told me we were going to send the letters. I laughed like that was a joke, then I panicked when I realized it was not, then I started to feel empowered, excited to use my voice towards the people who had stolen my voice. She suggested I physically mail the letters instead of emailing them or sending them through a social media platform. I could easily find a mailing address for Tim in prison, but all I knew for Xavier was his place of work, so I used that address. I spent weeks working on the letters, calculating every word, reading them aloud to Heather. I told Heather I would not be able to mail them without her, so she met me at the Post Office one afternoon and physically walked with me through mailing them while my anxiety was through the roof. Being brave doesn't mean not being scared. I absolutely mailed those while scared AND brave.

Heather and me in line at the Post Office waiting to mail my letters

Mailing the letters was temporarily magical, but as with this entire journey, forgiveness is a process. Some days I still pick up the wounds, let them fester, and decide to live in the anger. Other days I feel the freedom of forgiveness and remember to pray for Xavier and Tim. Some days I am able to separate the wounds from my abusers, but other days I would prefer to turn their pictures into dart boards. However, more and more I choose forgiveness for Xavier and Tim. More and more I am able to separate them from the wounds I am still tending to.

I tracked the letters to Xavier and Tim so I could make sure they were delivered, but without actually speaking to them, I do not actually know if they were received or read. So here they are. If Xavier or Tim ever run across this blog, they will be here for them. They know who they are, therefore I will continue to use pseudonyms for Xavier and all involved. Tim's name is not a pseudonym.

Xavier,

It’s been 15 years since we met,14 years since we last spoke, and 12 years since I last saw you. You've taken up way too much of my thoughts these last 15 years, and I've hardly gone a day without you crossing my mind. I imagine you haven't even considered a thought about me in many, many years. I didn't steal from your life, you stole from mine. But now it's time for me to take my life back. You don't deserve to take up any more of my life.

You were 19, I was barely 17. I don't know why you picked me, but I have my guesses. I don't know how you convinced Meira to introduce us, I wonder how that conversation went. I don't know how you convinced her it was ok, I imagine it was similar to how you tried to convince me it was ok, you didn't give her a choice. I now know you'd done this before. I wasn't your first, and I wasn't your last. You'd already started a pattern by the time we met, and I fit right into it.

You fed me lies. It was like you'd read the book on narcissism and emotional abuse, and I'd only read romance novels and watched chic flicks. You were so convincing. I was so vulnerable. You told me you cared, you told me it was ok, you told me you loved me. I believed you. I was so naive and you knew it. The target was painted on me.

I'm still angry. At the things you did to me. At the things you made me do to you. I didn't want that. I told you "no" and begged you to not demand it, but you did anyways. I went in your room a scared little girl and came out broken. You stole from me. My innocence. My senior year. Many years after that. You tore the 17 year old girl in two. I'll never forget those nights we had together, but their power is fading. I'll never forget the lies you taught me, but I won't believe them anymore.

You told me I had to be vulnerable with you to prove I trusted you. That was a lie. Love is patient. Love waits and doesn't push. I could have been vulnerable with my clothes on. I could have been vulnerable without you ever putting your hands on me. You told me that Meira wouldn't stay friends with someone who "hurt" you, and telling you "no" was "hurting" you. You trapped me and used her as bait. How cunning were you to have us both entwined in your chains? You told me you were trying to protect me from everyone else, that no one could love me like you did. But everyone else listened to my "no"s. Everyone else believed in me. Everyone else treated me like a person and not an object. I've found someone now who has shown me what love is. His love is patient, it is kind, it is forgiving. It's nothing like you could ever be. He loves me like you never could. You were wrong.

Your words carved scars in my soul. Your voice echoed in my head. For years. "You're just going to be a slut if you're not with me. The only thing I won't let you do is drink and have sex, so that must be why you want to get away from me. To have sex and get drunk." You, the one who made me go farther than I wanted to go, hurled venom into my mind, making me believe I was someone that I wasn't. You were wrong. I wanted freedom. I wanted to be heard. I wanted my voice back. You made me believe my self worth was in what I could offer sexually, despite that you told me it was never sexual. You nearly destroyed me. Then you turned everyone against me. You made everyone believe I was the bad guy. You blinded everyone so that you could get away with whatever you wanted. No more. You don't get to win anymore.

Now I can see your brokenness. Now I can see the broken boy who thought he needed to demand love because he couldn't get it any other way. I can see the broken boy who was abandoned by his father, who never knew his father, how much those wounds would have scarred you, how much they would have been written on you like a banner for all to see. How much were you blamed? Behind your venom and your anger and your manipulation, I see a boy who was afraid. Who was afraid that if he gave anyone the choice, they, too, would leave him. I wonder what else happened to you. Were you, too, abused? Were you forced? Was your childhood stolen from you, too? Were you just doing to me what had been done to you? Were you trying to gain back the power that had been stolen from you over your own body?

You don't get to steal from me anymore. You don't get to win anymore. You tore me apart, but Jesus put me back together. I could have become you out of my own pain. I could have continued the pattern, but it stops with me. It's taken a lot of hard work to reverse what you did to me, but what you destroyed in me is being made whole again, only I'm stronger now. This story, the story of us, the story of what you did to me, it's not mine anymore. This is God's story of redemption, and I trust He will use it to show others that there is healing. I'm not afraid of people finding out anymore. I don't carry the shame anymore that you put on me, I've let it go, it was a lie to begin with.

The wreckage you've created will catch up with you one day. I pray for you that you'll stop running from your pain, that you'll stop controlling and abusing everyone around you to protect yourself. But finally....I forgive you. I'm not excusing anything you did to me. I’m not minimizing it. What you did to me was wrong. The wounds you caused were real. But I'm releasing you. I hope and pray that you stop wounding others and allow God to work in your heart to heal the wounds you have. Jesus's blood is enough to cover your sins as well as my own. I pray that you can find healing and accept the mercy and grace of Jesus. I forgive you because not forgiving you is holding on, and you don't deserve any more of my time or energy.

Amy

Tim,

I see 14 year olds now, and I realize how young they are. Children. Teenagers. Just figuring out who they are. At the time, when I was 14, I felt mature, more mature than my years, as if I had anything to compare it to. So many years ago now, you told me I was mature, you told me I wasn't like other kids, that I was an adult trapped in a child's body. Because you were the adult, I believed you. How poisonous were your words. I was solidly 14, you were turning 40. 26 years older than I was. Almost three times my young age, and you tried to steal my childhood. I!n some ways, you still did, without even touching me.

Your lies. Oh how you groomed me. You told me my parents didn't understand me, but that you did. You listened to me. You treated me like an equal. All to hook me, all to get me to trust you. Your hugs begun to linger, you asked what I would do if you kissed me, I said I didn't know. You talked about us running away to Europe together once I turned 18. But then you became impatient. You told me you'd had a dream about me, that you'd left the door open for me, and you told me that was true, that the door was always open. You made it very clear that you were propositioning sex. To a 14 year old child. When the days passed and I hadn't given you an answer, you reminded me, made sure I hadn't forgotten. I hadn't. I still haven't. Multiple times you reminded me. I begun to be afraid of you. Suddenly you were the grown man trying to have sex with me, the teenager. You became more impatient, more prideful, less nice. Like you were getting tired of me if I wasn't going to give you what you ultimately desired. You wanted me to choose so that you could pretend it was my decision, so that you could say that it was my decision if you ever got caught. A 14 year old cannot make that decision when a 40 year old is asking. I know that now. The guilt you tried to place on me, the blame you tried to place on me was all a lie. The longer I avoided the decision, the more dangerous I realized you were, and t!he more afraid of you I became. Then I finally told my parents. 

When my Dad confronted you, you made me look like the bad guy. Then you yelled at me when I came into your yard, booming voice, threatening me if I ever set foot on your property again. You stopped going into your own front yard, seemingly stopped going outside, it was like an ocean had formed between our houses. You forbid your Mom from speaking to me. Your Mom, who had been like a grandmother to me for 14 years of my life, was stolen from me. You stole her from me. When you didn't get what you wanted, when my Dad told you to never come near me again, you had to protect yourself. I don't know what you told your Mom, but she never spoke to me again. I missed her, how desperately I missed her. How desperately lonely you made her. You, the one pursuing a 14 year old, made yourself look innocent and me guilty. Somehow you made it look like you were pursued, how cunning you were to make it appear that you were victimized by a 14 year old girl less than half your size. How pathetic. I didn't know what I had done wrong. What had I done wrong? Nothing. I wish I could tell that 14 year old girl that now, that 14 year old girl who grew up believing she had done something wrong. That 14 year old girl who thought something was so wrong with her that she was pursued by you. Who thought she was inherently dangerous because a 40 year wanted her that badly. I wish I could go back and tell my 14 year old self the truth now, that none of it was her fault, that nothing was wrong with her, but I will never get those years back.

What happens to a man to make him go after little girls? What happened to you that made you think it was ok to go after me? Did someone steal your childhood? If statistics are correct, you were acting out of what had been done to you. Maybe trying to make me feel the pain you yourself had felt. Maybe trying to take back the power that had been stolen from you. Or maybe you were simply acting out evil. 

 

Do not be mistaken, what you did to me was wrong. What you wanted to do with me was horrendous. You tried to destroy my childhood and me with it. But Jesus has been healing my heart, restoring the broken pieces. Now I see Jesus on the cross, naked and bleeding, crying out for forgiveness for the ones who put him there. Jesus asking for forgiveness for the ones who knew exactly what they were doing, the ones who were not sorry, who were not repentant. If Jesus can forgive the men who crucified him, I can forgive you. Now I am beginning to see beyond your actions, see how you were a vessel for evil to be done. I pray that Jesus leads you to repentance. I pray that you are able to come to the cross with humility and allow Jesus to heal you from the inside out. I forgive you for what you did to me, for what you tried to do to me. I'm not excusing it, I'm not pretending it was ok. I'm not minimizing it. But Jesus's blood is enough to cover your sins as well as my own. I pray that you can find healing and accept the mercy and grace of Jesus. I forgive you because not forgiving you is holding on, and you don't deserve any more of my time or energy.

Amy 

 

 

 

 

 

"And if you tenderly care for this little one on my behalf, you are tenderly caring for me. But if anyone abuses one of these little ones who believes in me, it would be better for him to have a heavy boulder tied around his neck and be hurled into the deepest sea than to face the punishment he deserves! Misery will come to the one who lures people away into sin. Troubles and obstacles to your faith are inevitable, but great devastation will come to the one guilty of causing others to stumble!"  Matthew 18: 5-7 TPT

 

For we must all stand before Christ to be judged. We will each receive whatever we deserve for the good or evil we have done in this earthly body.  2 Corinthians 5:10 NLT

 

God is an honest judge. He is angry with the wicked every day.  Psalm 7:11 NLT

 

Don’t just pretend to love others. Really love them. Hate what is wrong. Hold tightly to what is good. Love each other with genuine affection, and take delight in honoring each other. Romans 12: 9-10 NLT

 

Never pay back evil with more evil. Do things in such a way that everyone can see you are honorable. Do all that you can to live in peace with everyone. Dear friends, never take revenge. Leave that to the righteous anger of God. For the Scriptures say,

“I will take revenge;
    I will pay them back,”
    says the Lord.

Instead,

“If your enemies are hungry, feed them.
    If they are thirsty, give them something to drink.
In doing this, you will heap
    burning coals of shame on their heads.”

Don’t let evil conquer you, but conquer evil by doing good. 

Romans 12: 17-21 NLT

"The way you want others to treat you is how you should treat everyone else. Are you really showing true love by loving only those who love you? Even those who don’t know God will do that. Are you really showing compassion when you do good deeds only to those who do good deeds to you? Even those who don’t know God will do that." Luke 6: 31-33 TPT

When they came to a place called The Skull, they nailed him to the cross. And the criminals were also crucified—one on his right and one on his left. Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing.” And the soldiers gambled for his clothes by throwing dice. Luke 23: 33-34 NLT

You were running the race so well. Who has held you back from following the truth? It certainly isn’t God, for he is the one who called you to freedom. This false teaching is like a little yeast that spreads through the whole batch of dough! I am trusting the Lord to keep you from believing false teachings. God will judge that person, whoever he is, who has been confusing you. Galatians 5: 7-10 NLT

Let's end the stigma of counseling and therapy

Healing has never been anything like I expected it would be. I can't even plan out my blog posts without something jumping in and needing some more attention, like my last few posts, like these last months. Healing has never been linear, and I can't expect it'll start to be now. Writing about this has been healing in and of itself, it's been empowering, but it's also been emotionally exhausting bringing some of this back up. I don't know how to put much of this into words. Not only do I want to help give voices to the voiceless and bring light to abuse, but I also want to help remove the stigma of counseling and therapy.

Heather was not my first counselor, and she is not my last. I'd been with two different counselors between 7th and 9th grade, then I had another counselor for a period in college. The counselors when I was younger were just sort of so I could talk out whatever was going on in my young teenage brain. I had already starting having panic attacks, anxiety, and depression by that point. They didn't realize I was already fighting mental health issues that were more than "normal teenage feelings," and when Tim was grooming me, that counselor should have reported him and did not. Looking back, they should have done more. In college, I was seeing a counselor while dealing with disordered eating and quickly losing lots of weight, and I also had a stalker during that time, plus being in the aftermath of trauma I couldn't yet name. I couldn't trust a male counselor but didn't have the voice to demand a female counselor, and I simply didn't respect him. He never knew what was going on below the surface. He even taped one of our sessions (with my permission) for his graduate program, and let me tell you, I don't know why he thought that was a good idea. Choosing to try counseling again with Heather was a huge and vulnerable decision. 

I felt like there was such a stigma around counseling when I started with Heather. Like only really screwed up people go, and I definitely wasn't one of those, right? As I would tell people I was in counseling, I'd have some people who wondered what was so bad, people who wondered why something from so long ago mattered, people with the air of "Good for you, counseling is not for me," and others who knew how great counseling could be and were very supportive of me.  I was ashamed at first of being in counseling. Now I'm a very firm believer in counseling and encourage just about everyone to at some point have some sort of counseling.  My goal is to help remove the stigma. Now I just tell people, "Oh sorry, can't do X, I have counseling at that time every week." Think whatever you want, it's not about you. Do what you want with your mental health, this is what I'm doing for mine.

By the time I begun counseling with Heather, it had been over 9 years since I'd seen Xavier at all, and 11 years since our relationship had ended for good.  College had been so terrible for the first 2.5 years, and figuring out the "real world" after college was not something I was prepared for either.  I basically just developed my own coping mechanisms over the years, most of them not healthy, and as time went on, I just kept telling myself (and hearing from others) that time heals all wounds. 

Listen closely. Time does not heal all wounds. Read that again and let it sink in. That is one of the biggest lies ever told. I believed it for far too long. I'd be willing to go as far as saying that the more time passes, the more unhealthy you become if you haven't dealt with your wounds. The pain spirals into unhealthy coping mechanisms and masks you put on that spiral into more unhealthy coping mechanisms and more masks until you no longer know who you ever are underneath it all. 

I'd developed so many masks by the time I started seeing Heather, so many ways to hide. On the outside it seemed like I was getting my life together, but it was a lie. I was working in the professional world, coming home to Alex, but most evenings were spent curled up in a ball on the couch, falling asleep on Alex by 8, moving to the bedroom by 930 or 10 to actually sleep. I lived in my house alone (outside of one roommate for 6 months) for 5 years before Alex and I got married and he moved in with me. When I first moved into my house, I was so excited to be out of the toxic roommate situation I'd been in, so excited to have my own space, and I felt safe. But quickly my anxieties started to creep in again. I became too anxious to walk my dog on the neighborhood paths, too anxious to walk her on the street, too anxious to walk her on the path directly behind my backyard. I closed my blinds and never reopened them. If someone knocked on the door, I hid. I never let anyone come over outside of Alex because I was ashamed of the clutter and the stains on the carpet.  I spent my free time curled up on the couch, too anxious or depressed to do anything else. Then I would hate myself for not being able to keep up my house, which would cause more anxiety and depression, causing me to be more paralyzed to do anything about it. And the cycle continued. And good luck getting me out of the house after dark. Once Alex moved in, I felt safe, and I was no longer alone, but then it was just much more cramped and cluttered, and it was just a waiting game until we could afford to move to a bigger house, which ended up being another 5 years. 

Outside of what was going on with my mental health, I was also not a person I was proud of. I'd buried my pain under so many layers that I wasn't able to face anyone else's pain. I was the person who minimized, deflected, invalidated others. I barely had a voice at all, so I let people walk all over me. I didn't know how to express my needs to anyone outside of Alex, and even with Alex, it was a struggle. I had no boundaries with people because I didn't feel like I had a right to say "no" to anything or anyone. Instead I just put walls up everywhere to protect myself. My thought was that if you couldn't get past my wall, I wouldn't even have a chance to feel like I needed to tell you "no" and then have to figure out how to do that.  It took a long time to trust anyone, and I definitely couldn't trust myself. I blamed myself for having believed Xavier's lies, and I worried someone else would be able to get past my armor and convince me of other lies. I worried another Xavier would somehow end up in my life, and that once again I would feel powerless.  

What I hate the most is that I was someone who blamed victims. I can see now that it came out of having myself been invalidated and also out of ignorance. If I didn't even realize that I'd been sexually abused, how could I understand the sexual abuse I heard others talk about? The part of me that still felt like something wasn't right had been invalidated and silenced for so long, that out of my own pain, I invalidated and silenced others' stories. I hate that part of my story. I'm sorry to anyone I hurt when I was hurting. I didn't have the capacity for empathy for myself or anyone else. I hope that I am now able to validate others and truly hear their hearts.

When I started counseling, I didn't have the language for anything I'd experienced or was feeling. It took years of unraveling. Some people are able to go to counseling for a few months, have their counselor speak truth to the lies, give them validation, and they grow and learn quickly.  However, that's not me. I thought it would be, but it wasn't.  The lies Xavier had spoken to me were so deep in my soul, they had become part of who I was. When Heather and I started unraveling the lies and bringing light to the truth of my pain, I started talking about it all the time to anyone who would listen. It was about circling the same things over and over and over again until I felt like I could let them go. It would often take me weeks of reviewing something in my head, just one small but specific piece of my story, talking about it, writing about it, before I'd finally realized the truth about it. I spent most of my free time outside of work reading books Heather recommended, writing whatever homework I had and whatever was rattling around in my head, and preparing for my next counseling session. I completely threw myself into my healing because I was just done, absolutely done, with living the life I'd been living. I wanted a new life for Alex and myself. I wasn't going to let Xavier ruin the life Alex and I were building. He'd stolen enough.

Heather gave me language I so desperately needed.  With language there is freedom.  When you have the words to say what happened to you and where you are mentally,  you can finally be truly heard, you can finally start to release what's been holding you down. When I was in Germany, one of the hardest parts of communicating was knowing what I wanted to say but not having the correct German words to say it. Anyone who has visited a foreign country or learned another language probably understands. There's this automatic wall between you and whoever you are speaking with when you don't understand each other. It can feel maddening sometimes to not be able to truly communicate. Handling trauma and mental health is similar, only I was living that every day and did not even know I was missing the language.  

To begin to heal, I had to face my pain. To face my pain, I had to know I would be safe and heard. Heather gave me that. She was patient as I went round and round in circles trying to make sense of things that didn't make sense. We went through everything I could find to bring back my memories from that time: emails, IM conversations, journal entries, conversations with friends, pictures. My body remembered everything, but my brain needed help putting the pieces together. It was like a puzzle, when I would find a new missing piece, it filled a spot in my heart where I previously couldn't understand the pain I was feeling. Heather got angry at Xavier, at what he'd done to me, what he'd said to me. It felt good to have someone angry for me, protective of me, fighting for me. I felt like I mattered. Like I was worth fighting for, like fighting for healing mattered. It made me want to fight for myself. Heather told me what was not ok, things that Xavier had twisted in my head. She spoke truth to me.

Counseling that is worthwhile is hard work. I was fortunate to have the time and resources to be able to throw myself into my healing during those years and focus primarily on my healing outside of my career. As we peeled back the layers of protection I'd put around my heart, I started to feel again in ways I had not in many years. My smiles got bigger, my laughs got louder, but my anxiety also got bigger, my depression became more pronounced, and I started having more frequent PTSD triggers.  Brene Brown said, "We cannot selectively numb emotion. If we numb the dark, we numb the light. If we take the edge off pain and discomfort, we are, by default, taking the edge off joy, love, belonging, and the other emotions that give meaning to our lives." The opposite is also true.  When you start to come out of numbness, the emotions on both ends of the spectrum become more pronounced.  You cannot start to feel again with only some emotions. But despite that my mental health struggles came to the surface, joy also came to the surface. I started to enjoy life and be emotionally present in my own life. For so many years I'd been trying to find my joy again, but it took facing my pain to finally see it again. I started talking about what was going on in my head instead of hiding everything. I learned how to use my own voice again to say what I needed and wanted instead of always trying to make myself invisible. Some people in my circle did not understand what was going on with me. Some thought I was getting worse, but what they were seeing was that I was finally talking about the things that I had kept hidden for so long.

As I began to feel again, I also had to start seeing a psychiatrist to handle the chemical imbalances in my brain. I found out that having multiple anxiety attacks a day was not healthy, that being unable to function was not normal. Some of it has genetic factors, and some of it comes out of my traumas. I fought to take medicine to help with the chemical imbalances in my brain, but my counselor, my Family Doctor, and my Psychiatrist helped me understand that just as I would take insulin if I had diabetes or chemo if I had cancer, it was ok to take medication to help with mental illnesses.  Over time, the days of being unable to leave the couch have almost completely gone. Things that once would send me into an anxiety spiral that paralyzed me for days I am now able to stop before they can spiral. The anvil that sat on my chest for years has lifted, I can finally take full breaths again most of the time. I do not think medication is the magic fixer, but combined with counseling, it has changed my life for the better. I do think that it can often be over prescribed and not well monitored, but I am fortunate to be well monitored and guided.

At some point, after about 3.5 years together, I starting have less and less to talk about, fewer and fewer stones to unturn. Eventually Heather and I realized my season of counseling with her was coming to an end. The bulk of my processing had been worked through. We went down to fewer and fewer sessions until she released me. This, however, did not mean my past would never matter again. My stories are part of who I am. I will forever carry the scars. I do not believe there will be complete healing on this side of Heaven. However, I am continually a little farther ahead than I was before, even if I have to revisit certain pieces of my story.  I have come so far, but I am not done yet.

I've been in counseling now for 7 years: the first 3.5 with Heather, then 6 months after she released me, my psychiatrist said she wanted me back in counseling to have someone more closely monitoring me and working with me in ways she can't. I was already familiar with Annie and wanted her to be my new counselor, but was nervous about finding someone after Heather.  I assumed Annie wouldn't take my insurance so it wouldn't work anyway, but she did.  Then I assumed she wouldn't be available on the day that would be best for me, and that was one of her two available days.  Then I assumed she wouldn't have space for me, but she did. So it all fell into place, and I've been with Annie ever since. 

Some books I've read, or at least started to read, during my healing journey.

Some of the work done during my years of counseling with Heather

Books from picture (some I haven't finished, let's be real; also, I do not agree with everything in all of these books, as that is impossible, and more and more is being learned about these topics and updated and corrected with time):

Love is a Choice: The Definitive Book on Letting Go of Unhealthy Relationships by Dr. Robert Hemfelt, Dr. Frank Minirth, Dr. Paul Meier 

Mending the Soul: Understanding and Healing Abuse by Steven R. Tracy

Intimate Allies: Twenty-One Questions Christian Women ask about Sex by Linda Dillow and Lorraine Pintus - just a note that there were some good things about this book but also things that needed to be completely taken out and burned

Captivating: Unveiling the Mystery of a Woman's Soul by John and Stasi Eldredge

The Wounded Heart: Hope for Adult Victims of Childhood Sexual Abuse by Dr. Dan Allender

Healing the Wounded Heart: The Heartache of Sexual Abuse and the Hope of Transformation by Dr. Dan Allender

Rid of My Disgrace: Hope and Healing for Victims of Sexual Assault by Justin S. Holcomb

When a Woman You Love Was Abused: A Husband's Guide to Helping Her Overcome Childhood Sexual Molestation by Dawn Scott Jones

Not Marked by Mary Demuth

Boundaries: When to say yes, how to say no to take control of your life by Henry Cloud and John Townsend

On the Threshold of Hope by Diane Langberg

Unwanted: How Sexual Brokenness Reveals our Way to Healing by Jay Stringer

The Great Sex Rescue: The Lies You've Been Taught and How to Recover What God Intended by Sheila Wray Gregoire, Rebecca Gregoire Lindenbach, et. al. 

The Invisible Bond: How to Break Free From Your Sexual Past by Barbara Wilson

The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma by Bessel van der Kolk, M.D.

The Wisdom of Your Body: Finding Healing, Wholeness, and Connection Through Embodied Living by Hillary L. McBride, PhD

Unpunishable: Ending our Love Affair with Punishment by Danny Silk

Breaking Free from Body Shame: Dare to Reclaim What God has Declared Good by Jess Connolly

 

Some definitions:

Consent: Consent is an agreement between participants to engage in sexual activity. Consent should be clearly and freely communicated. A verbal and affirmative expression of consent can help both you and your partner to understand and respect each other’s boundaries.

What is not consent: Consent cannot be given by individuals who are underage, intoxicated or incapacitated by drugs or alcohol, or asleep or unconscious. If someone agrees to an activity under pressure of intimidation or threat, that isn’t considered consent because it was not given freely. Unequal power dynamics, such as engaging in sexual activity with an employee or student, also mean that consent cannot be freely given.

Sexual abuse: Sexual abuse is any sexual activity that occurs without consent. Also referred to as sexual assault or sexual violence, it includes unwanted sexual touching, forced oral sex, and rape, among other sexual acts. No matter which act occurs, it’s not the survivor’s fault that they were assaulted—and help is available to begin healing from such abuse.

Emotional abuse:  Emotional abuse involves controlling another person by using emotions to criticize, embarrass, shame, blame, or otherwise manipulate them. The underlying goal of emotional abuse is to control the other person by discrediting, isolating, and silencing them. It is one of the hardest forms of abuse to recognize as it can be subtle and insidious. But it can also be overt and manipulative. Either way, emotional abuse can chip away at your self-esteem, and you can begin to doubt your perceptions and reality. In the end, you may feel trapped. Emotionally abused people are often too wounded to endure the relationship any longer, but also too afraid to leave. So, the cycle repeats itself until something is done. 

Gaslighting: Gaslighting is a form of manipulation that often occurs in abusive relationships. It is a covert type of emotional abuse in which the bully or abuser misleads the target, creating a false narrative and making them question their judgments and reality.1 Ultimately, the victim of gaslighting starts to feel unsure about their perceptions of the world and even wonder if they are losing their sanity. 

Narcissism: Narcissism is characterized by a grandiose sense of self-importance, a lack of empathy for others, a need for excessive admiration, and the belief that one is unique and deserving of special treatment.

What are the signs of sexual abuse?

If you’re concerned that a loved one is suffering sexual abuse, asking them directly can lead to relief, support, and treatment. The signs that an adult may have been sexually assaulted include:

• Anxiety about specific situations that didn’t previously prompt anxiety
• Avoiding specific people or places
• Persistent sadness or depression
• Low self-esteem
• Disturbed sleep or nightmares
• Self-harming behavior
• Suicidal thoughts
• New sexually transmitted infections

 

Signs that Someone May Be In an Abusive Relationship

The majority of sexual assaults are committed by someone the victim knows, such as a friend, family member, acquaintance, or partner.1 Often, abusive partners will try to cut the victim off from their support system. As someone outside of the relationship, you have the potential to notice warning signs that someone may be in an abusive relationship or at risk for sexual assault.

Some warning signs include: 

• Withdrawing from other relationships or activities, for example, spending less time with friends, leaving sports teams, or dropping classes
• Saying that their partner doesn’t want them to engage in social activities or is limiting their contact with others
• Disclosing that sexual assault has happened before
• Any mention of a partner trying to limit their contraceptive options or refusing to use safer sexual practices, such as refusing to use condoms or not wanting them to use birth control
• Mentioning that their partner is pressuring them to do things that make them uncomfortable
• Signs that a partner controlling their means of communication, such as answering their phone or text messages or intruding into private conversations
• Visible signs of physical abuse, such as bruises or black eyes

Symptoms of Depression:

• Feelings of sadness, tearfulness, emptiness or hopelessness
• Angry outbursts, irritability or frustration, even over small matters
• Loss of interest or pleasure in most or all normal activities, such as sex, hobbies or sports
• Sleep disturbances, including insomnia or sleeping too much
• Tiredness and lack of energy, so even small tasks take extra effort
• Reduced appetite and weight loss or increased cravings for food and weight gain
• Anxiety, agitation or restlessness
• Slowed thinking, speaking or body movements
• Feelings of worthlessness or guilt, fixating on past failures or self-blame
• Trouble thinking, concentrating, making decisions and remembering things
• Frequent or recurrent thoughts of death, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempts or suicide
• Unexplained physical problems, such as back pain or headaches

For many people with depression, symptoms usually are severe enough to cause noticeable problems in day-to-day activities, such as work, school, social activities or relationships with others. Some people may feel generally miserable or unhappy without really knowing why.

Symptoms of Generalized Anxiety Disorder:

• Persistent worrying or anxiety about a number of areas that are out of proportion to the impact of the events
• Overthinking plans and solutions to all possible worst-case outcomes
• Perceiving situations and events as threatening, even when they aren't
• Difficulty handling uncertainty
• Indecisiveness and fear of making the wrong decision
• Inability to set aside or let go of a worry
• Inability to relax, feeling restless, and feeling keyed up or on edge
• Difficulty concentrating, or the feeling that your mind "goes blank"

 Symptoms of Post-traumatic Stress Disorder:

• Recurrent, unwanted distressing memories of the traumatic event
• Reliving the traumatic event as if it were happening again (flashbacks)
• Upsetting dreams or nightmares about the traumatic event
• Severe emotional distress or physical reactions to something that reminds you of the traumatic event
• Trying to avoid thinking or talking about the traumatic event
• Avoiding places, activities or people that remind you of the traumatic event
• Negative thoughts about yourself, other people or the world
• Hopelessness about the future
• Memory problems, including not remembering important aspects of the traumatic event
• Difficulty maintaining close relationships
• Feeling detached from family and friends
• Lack of interest in activities you once enjoyed
• Difficulty experiencing positive emotions
• Feeling emotionally numb
• Being easily startled or frightened
• Always being on guard for danger
• Self-destructive behavior, such as drinking too much or driving too fast
• Trouble sleeping
• Trouble concentrating
• Irritability, angry outbursts or aggressive behavior
• Overwhelming guilt or shame

Resources (and sources for above):

What Consent Looks Like

What is sexual violence?

Sexual Abuse

What Is Emotional Abuse?

What Is Gaslighting?

Narcissism

Find a Therapist 

Talk with a licensed, professional therapist online  

RAINN: 1-800-656-4673 Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network  

National Domestic Violence Hotline     1-800-799-7233

Depression (Major Depressive Disorder)  

Generalized Anxiety Disorder 

Post-traumatic Stress Disorder