SABRINA'S STORY: #INCEST VICTIM STILL IMPRISONED AFTER 40 YEARS

Sabrina is in her 40's now and still lives at home with her mother and step-father. She works in their shop but receives no salary. Her step-father thinks she's insane and wants to have her committed. Her mother is abusive and narcissistic. The rest of her relatives think Sabrina is crackers too. Everyone tells her to stop talking rubbish and tarnishing the family name with her ridiculous allegations of incest by an uncle who is today a very prominent member of society. He also wields lots of power. Sabrina is scared of what he could do to her and her family if she ever goes public. So she stays silent. 

She's told her mother the story time and again. One minute her mother says she's making it all up; the next she tells her to get over it: it happens to lots of girls, so just get over it. But Sabrina can't. 

She was only 7 when 'it' happened. Her parents had left her in her uncle's care. She trusted him when he said she was being taken to have a needed medical procedure. There were 4 "doctors" in the room. She was put under. When she awoke, one of the doctors was on top of her. No, correct that: he was inside her and she hurt. Then the other doctors took turns. And they took photographs too. And they laughed. 

They took turns. 

When they finished with me, I was told the procedure went wonderfully. 
I was sore. 
I was tired. 
I was confused. 
I wanted to throw up. 
I didn't want to be near him anymore. 
I sensed something had changed my relationship with him forever. 
I sensed something had changed me forever. 
I just wanted to go home. 

I was 7-years-old

Sabrina never forgot and never got over it. She did what all incest victims do: she went quiet because she was fearful of what would happen to her if she told. 

Sabrina has been quiet for 40 years now. She's gained weight, on purpose. She doesn't want men to get interested in her. That doesn't mean she wouldn't love to have a good husband and children and all the rest, but she's too scared and she can't trust any man. The same relative abused her again at a later date under different circumstances and not to the same degree. But his abuse just cemented her fear and buried her silence even deeper.  She's written about it in her blog, LIGHT DANCING IN THE SHADOWS. Click the link to read her side of the story. Right now, her only support is readers like you and writers like me. 

Sabrina wants to leave home but has no money to head out on her own. She's a prisoner of her past and her present. She's trying to fight back using the only weapon she has now: words. She is speaking out from under incest. She's committed to writing a book about it and has already started. And every day, her parents keep her chained, convincing themselves and everyone around her that she is nuts. 

We other victims of incest know better. Sabrina is not nuts. She needs support and ears willing to believe her side of the story. I have promised to help her publish her book when it's done. As much as I wish she'd find the courage to get out of the prison she's been in for 40 years, that is ultimately up to her. Only she can change her life. But writing her story is a beginning. Don't back down Sabrina. Fight for your life and your freedom. Fight for your chance to be the beautiful woman you can be and are, away from your persecutors. Others have done it. You can too. Courage and love my friend. 

THE DOMINO EFFECT of #INCEST and #CHILD SEXUAL ABUSE

"My mom's first cousins were all abused by their father, and apparently the oldest daughter had sex with by him till into her 20s. She's so messed up now. Denies it all, can't talk about it, but is a mental mess. 

Her two sons (who were brought up in the home of their paedo grandfather) go with anyone - male, female, black, white, whatever age, just anyone they can get their hands on. The oldest is a suicidal alcoholic. 

Their mother and the two of them all still live together and have no money. They live in this ramshackle place and eek out a living. It breaks my heart that they can't break the cycle of shame and face the facts. 

And that eldest daughter's brother? He is an abuser too of young girls and his daughter VIGOROUSLY defends her father and lies to cover up for him. 

So sad."

Sad? It's more than sad. It's downright horrible, this domino effect that childhood sexual abuse and incest has on families, and not just immediately, but for generations!  It undermines and tears at the very concept of what a family is supposed to be: a place of comfort, support and above all, love for, and trust in every member of that family. How can children grow into a normal, functioning, productive human beings when memories of abuse by a parent colour all their perceptions, interactions, and relationships with other people,  and eventually their own children, for years to come. How can they ever be "normal"? How?!

And why does it happen? It happens because somewhere along the line an adult told his son or daughter that what daddy was doing was okay. He told them everyone was doing it. Or he warned them not to tell others and used threats of pain, beatings or even death to enforce that secrecy. Or he manipulated their young, impressionable and naive minds with clever words, telling them no-one would believe them anyway. Or he sucked them in so cleverly saying this was love and daddy loves you, and thereby molded that child into his unspeaking, obedient, frightened and insecure puppet who believed this love was better than no love. Because LOVE is what all children want and need above all else and they will do what is necessary, put up with whatever they have to, to get it. It's human nature.

When members of my group share information like what's in that opening quote, when personal friends, who are not victims, write to me and say, as one did this past week after seeing the planned cover for my book, NO TEARS FOR MY FATHER: 

"I went to your blog out of curiosity and got a severe, and lasting lesson in reality in human depravity. Apart from your own story, I found one of the stories there totally shocking. All stories of incest are all shocking, of course, but  'Nikki's Story' just broke my heart. Maybe it is typical of the horrendous experiences that some boys and girl are forced to go through. I don't know. I haven't really read any detailed incest stories because it is not a subject matter that attracts me for a read. Whatever the degree of the molestation that all victims have had to deal with in their young lives, 'Nikki's Story' must surely be one of most heart rending. I am amazed that children so young can somehow deal with what is happening to them."

then all the more I am encouraged in my resolve to finish my book, my true story of incest, written and published. We MUST talk about incest! We must refuse to stay silent any longer. Our own silence is aiding and abetting the abusers, many of whom, like the member above stated in that opening quote, go on to abuse others: the domino effect of incest and child sexual abuse. 

This domino effect can only be stopped or at least curtailed, by coming out from under incest and speaking out from under the child sexual abuse in families, and the earlier the better. And yet, as I say that, I'm reminded of another comment made by a member this past week who lamented

"Children are told to tell an adult, a teacher or the other parent if someone touches them in a way that makes them uncomfortable. But how can they do that when they no longer trust adults, or worse yet, when one of the parents is the abuser?"

How indeed!

As my friend who wrote to me said, and I agree with him 100%: 

" ...  this subject, your book, and the strong incestuous character that seems so prevalent in the human race, demands a high profile exposure. It is the last taboo subject, and it is now time for the stone of indifference to be turned over and the sordid truth about some human adults revealed for all to see. The human race will never evolve, or even mature, if this awful aspect of mankind is not addressed."

The only way I can see for us to overturn that stone of indifference is SPEAK UP ABOUT OUR OWN CHILDHOOD SEXUAL ABUSE!  And it's up to us, the victims, to do that. We are our own best resource for fighting this depravity. It is we, the victims, who have the best weapons: our voices! Speak out from under. Tell your stories. NOW!  

"1 in 4 Girls will be Sexually Abused by age 18. 1 in 6 Boys will be Sexually Abused by age 18. 90,000 cases are reported each year. 90% of the time the Child knows the perpetrator. 117 Victims will be Assaulted before the Child Molester is caught..."

"VICTIM'S VOICES ARE THE BEST WEAPONS AGAINST CHILD SEXUAL ABUSE"

©Viga Boland 2013, NO TEARS FOR MY FATHER

KEEPING INCEST A SECRET EATS AT YOU & TEARS YOU APART

“I believe when you are attacked, either as a child or as an adult, that you are put in a position of choice. You can either allow it to consume you and watch it destroy you or you can fight against it. Only you can make yourself develop the courage to overcome it and talk about it openly. When you carry it as a secret it will eat at you and continue to tear you apart.” 

(Patricia A. McKnight, My Justice, 2011)

With these words, Patricia, one of the bravest women I know, brings the last few pages of her real life story of abuse and incest to a close. I have never met Patricia in person. We are friends on Facebook now, but my first encounter with her came when I was researching incest on YouTube and found her video that I shared in this earlier blog post here. As she gave a few details of the sexual abuse she suffered at the hands of her step-father for 12 years, I was shocked, but compelled to read her book, My Justice, available as an eBook at LULU.COM, or as a soft cover at Amazon and other online sites. 

As someone who is now writing her own story of incest, I had to know how she wrote her story and how much detail she provided. As a fellow survivor, I had to know about the reactions of her family, friends and others had to her terrible disclosures and most importantly, what have been the long-term effects of the dreadful abuse she suffered, not just at the hands of her father but several other abusers who took over where her step-father left off. 

My Justice wasn't an easy read, for me, not so much for the violence Patricia suffered (which was often-times horrific) but for what it said about her own mother's denial, ignorance, and lack of love and support for this poor child with the brilliant blue eyes. Throughout her 40 + years of abuse, Patricia tried time and again to win and hold onto her mother's love. She desperately wanted a good relationship with her mother, some acknowledgement that "Trecia" was indeed a good person to whom bad things had happened at the hands of her own husband. And her mother never, to this day, gave her that vital pleasure. This mother, for me, is as loathsome as the step-father. In the criminal justice system, people are charged, tried and convicted for aiding and abetting a crime. I can think of Patricia's mom in no other terms: she aided and abetted this ugly, abusive step-father who took her virginity by ramming a rifle up his step-daughter's vagina! Patricia's mother stood beside this monster till his death, but she never once stood up for or protected her daughter. For me, this is the saddest part of My Justice. 

The last few pages also drove home another ugly fact about incest when the family doesn't know the details, or when it does, turns a blind eye toward the truth. The accuser becomes the accused: the abuser is believed over the abused. What's wrong with this picture! In my Facebook group, SPEAK OUT FROM UNDER, it's heartbreaking to learn from other victims that this is the reaction in their families too. We rail against the honour killings in other cultures, but by insisting incest and child sexual abuse be covered up, hushed up, not talked about, how different are we? These children die too ... just more slowly. It may not be a physical death, but unless they can open up and someone believes them, they die mentally and spiritually. Death by the long term incarceration of silence as opposed to hanging. Which is worse?

And then there's the effects on the children of an abused parent. It's heart-breaking to read how Patricia's past has negatively affected her relationships with her daughters. Her past made Patricia ill-equipped to handle the ups and downs of motherhood, though it's obvious she loved her children more than herself. Sadly, they don't see it that way. They saw her constant searching for a kind, non-abusive male companion as whoring.  At one point, her own children were now calling her what her abuser had called her: a dirty, ugly whore. 

How Patricia has survived all this mental, physical, spiritual and sexual abuse is something only she knows. It's something each of us who have gone through similar, easier or worse, knows. We all have different levels of strength and resolve. Some of us can take more, some less. Some of us can come out from under enough to talk about it privately, or as Patricia and I am now doing, publicly.  But it's never easy and even after it's done, it's still fraught with anxiety, worry and insecurity that we are doing the right thing by talking about it at all. But silence is deadly. 

I thank Patricia for showing me the way with her book. While I had decided to write my own book before I'd ever heard of her, MY JUSTICE has given me the courage to continue writing. My conversations with Patricia via Facebook and private emails have shown me the beautiful, caring person she is and has always been. She is a classic example of what it's like when bad things happen to good people but she has come out on top and is now devoting her life to helping others who are suffering as she did. I urge you to not just read Patricia's book, but to join her newest site at PATRICIA MCKIGHT'S JUSTICE and to follow her blog at SURVIVOR'S JUSTICE.

Don't let YOUR secret "eat at you and continue to tear you apart." As Patricia says in the final line of her book:

“If your world is not what you want, then I hope that you can find the strength to survive and move forward away from the pain.”

COME OUT FROM UNDER!

HOW CAN A FATHER SEXUALLY ABUSE HIS OWN DAUGHTER?

Currently, I'm reading two books, My Justice by Patricia A. McKnight and Mummy Knew, by Lisa James. Just as Tricia warned me, her book is hard to read. So is Lisa's. It is impossible to read books on incest abuse by a parent when one has themselves been sexually abused by a parent. With each word these brave women write, revealing intimate details of their own abuse, memories spring to mind. Visions pushed so far back and so far under over the years that you wonder if maybe you had just imagined them all, spring to life and affirm that yes, daddy really did abuse his little girl. The similarities between their stories and your own are jarring. You find yourself saying "Yes, that's how he got to me too!" "That's how he got me to keep quiet!" "That's how dirty I felt!" "That's how frightened I was!" 

And yet, both Patricia's and Lisa's story have one big difference from mine: in both their cases, the writer's mother had married low-life, foul-mouthed abusers whose brutality and abuse was exacerbated by their drinking. These creeps were their step-fathers, not a birth father, as was my case. I suppose it's easier to understand (if any incest can be understood) why a non-birth father who is essentially a pedophile to start with, could be drawn to a child, who is, after all, not his own, especially when she conveniently lives in the same house and must obey him as her new parent. What a huge advantage he has over her! It's interesting that both Patricia and Lisa felt some kind of instant revulsion and mistrust of these men when they were introduced into their lives by their mothers. They say puppies and dogs can sense evil in a human. These children did too but they were powerless to do anything about it.

My case, however, is different. With my mother, my father created me. His DNA runs through my blood. His advantage over me was huge but never would I have thought my birth father, someone I trusted with my life, whose job it was from word go to protect me from any harm, would take that kind of advantage of me. I didn't sense evil in him despite the harsh punishments he meted out for infractions when I was a child. I just figured they were deserved. So great is the belief and trust we have in our birth parents.

I watched a woman pushing her 3-4 month old in a pram today. The little one's eyes were glued, as best she could focus, on her mother's face. She gurgled and smiled as her mother talked to her. The baby's face glowed with delight and love. No doubt, or let's hope so, she has that same glowing love in her little eyes when she sees her daddy. And all being well, as time goes on, the other thing in her eyes will be trust, complete trust, trust he will never misuse.

I was looking at some photos of myself as a 6-month old baby a week back. There I sit happily on daddy's knee. Mommy is by his side. He looks proud and protective as he holds me. Where did that daddy go? Now as I sift through photos taken during my adolescence and even into my 20's, I see a different man there, a man who was my father by birth only. Though I long ago came to grips with what happened in my life and have been happily blessed with a fine husband and 2 beautiful daughters since,  I still cannot understand how the person who gave you life can destroy his own child's trust for his own selfish needs. To me, this is beyond comprehension and always will be.

Why ever did you make me, your child, the object of your lust?

How could you take your own child's heart and fill it with mistrust?

With every thrust inside my body, you double thrust my soul

Stripping me of my self-esteem and leaving me less than whole

I was your own flesh and blood;  you were half my life

How is it that you blurred the lines and turned me into your wife?

Wasn't mother good enough? Couldn't you find another?

No, instead you had to choose your child and destroy both me and mother.

And when I finally got away like a lamb who had been slaughtered

You piled the guilt upon my shame and said I was no daughter 

Well what on earth did you expect when you stopped being dad?

When you died, my only tears were for the father I never had.

© Viga Boland 2012