I was sorry to hear, when you texted me this morning, that people have approached you wondering if it was you who sexually abused me as a child. I’m assuming these are close family members or friends that may have read some of my recent blog posts. I can imagine how shocking and painful that must be for you. I know you are a proud man. I can understand why you’ve asked me to clarify that you were not, in fact, my abuser. I completely understand your wish to be protected from the fallout of this. Because I needed to be protected once, too.

 

I needed you to protect me from the sexual violence that was being perpetrated against me in my own home. I needed you to protect me from the shame and brokenness that resulted from it. I needed you to protect me from myself when I was lost and hell-bent on self-destruction. I was young and innocent, and desperately hurting.

 

Our home was not a safe place for me. It wasn’t safe for any of us really. I know you were trying your best to raise us to become proper, upstanding young ladies, but that came at a cost. We were denied the freedom to speak our minds. We were unable to truly be ourselves. It wasn’t an environment of openness and transparency. Many of the horrors that occurred in our home were never openly discussed. We were taught to be compliant. To hide our secrets. To stuff our feelings. And to never, ever bring shame to our parents or our family.

 

I’m sure you don’t know – and didn’t know then – exactly what to do about all this. I can imagine this whole thing makes you incredibly uncomfortable and that you wish it would all just go away. Or maybe you wish you could fix this for me. I know expressing your emotions isn’t the easiest thing for you to do. I’m sorry if you feel helpless and uncertain. I know exactly how that feels.

 

But, even though all of this may be hard for people to hear, I can’t be silent anymore. That little girl – the one that’s been hiding all this time – needs to be heard. I can’t continue to keep these secrets if I hope to heal myself. And while it is not my intention to hurt anyone in this process, it is very likely that people will, in fact, be hurt. But this presents a wonderful opportunity.

 

What I’m hoping for, in my heart of hearts, is that those who have hurt me or caused pain in my life – intentionally or otherwise – would be willing to have an honest conversation about it with me. That they would be prepared to confront what happened and be willing to hear the truth about how their actions and choices have affected me. That they might apologize with genuine regret for how my life has been impacted, and make amends as and where they can. I believe wholeheartedly that if those things happen, we can begin to build – for the first time in some cases – healthy relationships with one another.

 

But what I feared could happen did happen this morning. When I received your text message, I was struck by the fact that your biggest concern about my coming out as a childhood sexual abuse survivor was how it was impacting you, rather than how it has affected me. I was hoping you would offer me support. Or offer to stand by me in the fall out. But you didn’t. And while this doesn’t entirely surprise me, it still hurts. I have spent almost my whole life allowing the people around me to treat me as if I don’t matter, that my feelings and experiences aren’t as important as theirs, and that I am undeserving of their love, understanding, and support.

 

I’m unwilling to allow this anymore. Because I do matter. I am important. My feelings and experiences are relevant… to me at least. And I deserve to be loved, understood, and supported. Believing otherwise is one of the biggest factors that helps to create an environment in which any kind of abuse can occur.

 

I love you, Dad. But it isn’t my job to protect you or anyone else anymore. Actually, it never was. And by telling my story, I am finally giving that broken little girl a voice. I am ridding myself of the shame I have carried my whole life. I hope you will help me in that process. But even if you don’t, I’m going to carry on telling my truth.

 

Because I’m done hiding. I’m done hurting. It’s time for me to heal.