You are not responsible for what happened to you
This post is the continuation of a series of posts following on from a paragraph that I read in 'Rid of my Disgrace' by Justin and Lindsey Holcomb. The opening paragraph of the first chapter was so helpful to me that I decided to break it down, sentence by sentence, and devote a post to each part.
The previous posts in this series can be found here, here, here, here and here.
This was such an important concept for me to understand. And, looking back, I am beginning to realise that not understanding that I was not responsible led to me fearing telling anyone what had happened and also left me taking the blame and feeling guilt and shame.
Let me explain...
When I was first abused, I was in shock. I couldn't understand what had happened. It actually took me years to understand what had actually happened. I was 8 years old when I was first abused by a family member and in the years that passed until I properly named what had happened, I came to some false conclusions. I think as humans, we want answers. We want to understand WHY things happen so we can make sense of them. I wanted to understand it so I could make sense of this horrible, confusing, painful thing that kept happening.
But, the problem was: I came to the wrong conclusion. I thought that I was the reason it was happening. I thought that there was something in my character that cried out: "Hurt me. That's all I'm worth." Or maybe I'd done something to deserve it, but didn't know.
The problem with both of these conclusions was this: they were putting the blame and responsibility in the wrong place. I, as the victim, was carrying responsibility that I never should have done, so this led to me:
I lived carrying the weight of blame for this crime. I thought that it was my fault and so I couldn't tell anyone as it was something I should be ashamed of because I'd done something awful. I thought people would see me as a horrible, dirty person who'd done awful things.
Secondly, this led to me:
Because I thought I was responsible for what had happened to me, I felt guilty. I was carrying the guilt of the crime done against me because I was believing something false: that I was responsible. I felt that I'd done something wrong. I felt that I was to blame. This again meant that I couldn't describe it or disclose it for what it was and so continued in a cycle of guilt and silence.
Thirdly, this led to me:
I was ashamed for what had happened to me. I felt I'd been part of a dirty activity that I'd somehow deserved and caused and so this made me a lesser human being. I felt shame for what had happened, as I thought I'd deserved it in my core being. The shameful feelings began to define me. This is what I thought people could see - the defiled nature of me.
But, the beginning of the healing process for me (through realising what consent was - see this post), was understanding that I'd been a victim of crime. I wasn't responsible for what had happened to me. Instead, the perpetrators were.
This was huge. I realised that I didn't have to carry blame, guilt and shame. I could call it out for what it was - a crime! And I wasn't to blame.
I could know that my identity wasn't wrapped up in being abused, because I didn't cause it by being 'worse' somehow than others. I wasn't a 'different' human being who deserved to be treated so badly. No - I was a victim of crime.
And this wasn't just as a child. You see, there were two stages to me understanding this.
The first was understanding that I'd been a victim of child sexual abuse. That seemed easier for me to realise than accepting that I'd been assaulted as an adult. I didn't realise that I was being inconsistent for years: I had accepted that I wasn't responsible for the child sexual abuse. How could I be? I was a child. But, fast-forward a few years, and as a 20-year old, I couldn't see that this truth transferred to my current situation as well. I couldn't see that I wasn't responsible for being sexually assaulted as a 20-year old.
Instead, I repeated the familiar lie of my childhood. I took the burden of responsibility upon myself, thinking that, somehow, I was to blame. Because I didn't have the reason that, "because I was a child, it was wrong," I couldn't see this assault as a crime. There was also another element that made it harder for me to accept. He was my new boyfriend and he'd only ever treated me well. He'd never laid a finger on me. We'd been friends for about a year and enjoyed a great friendship. I was (am still am), a Christian and so I wasn't going to have sex until I was married. He believed the same thing, so I felt safe.
However, when we met up for the first time after starting to go out with one another, he acted differently. He was very physical from the moment he met me on the train and this continued... We went to stay with his brother and then everyone disappeared, his brother and two housemates, to leave us alone... He then asked me to sit down on the sofa. I asked, "why? Can't we just chat?" I didn't understand, but felt safe. So I went to the sofa. I sat down. He started kissing me, using his strength, by pulling my head into his, so that I couldn't move away. I was shocked and scared. Old feelings of the hurt that had happened as a child returned. The betrayal and broken trust. He was forceful. His tongue was in my mouth, he pushed me down, climbed on top of me and assaulted me.
It took me years to even define what this was. Was this something I'd done wrong? Had I let things go too far? Was I responsible? I was an adult, so surely it was my choice? I let it happen, didn't I? But, the clarity came when I understood consent. I couldn't forget this. Years later it haunted me. I got married and had sex with my husband. But when he climbed on top of me, I froze. All the feelings of betrayal and pain came back. The same thing happened when we kissed. All I could visualise was what my 21-year old boyfriend had done to me. I felt sick.
This made me want to understand my response. So, I went on the RAINN website and clicked onto the hotline and waited for a response. As a chatted through that experience, I shared my fears and the blame I was carrying. That is when I was asked about consent and if I'd given it much thought. I said, 'no.' I was then taken through a really helpful article about consent. It helped me to see that I had been assaulted: I didn't want it. I wasn't happy with what he was doing to me and he wasn't checking in any way that I was okay with it. He had no communication that I wanted to do this and so I realised that he had assaulted me.
This was huge for me. It was sad and painful. It still is. I cared for him a lot. But, it also helped me to understand why I was feeling the way I was and responding to my husband as I was. This then opened the door for me to realise that I wasn't to blame and so I didn't need to carry the guilt and shame for something that he did.
This was the start of me breaking the silence. This was the start of me writing about my experiences as a survivor of child sexual abuse and as a survivor of sexual assault as an adult. I could name these things for what they were because I realised that I was not responsible.
I hope this helps you to come to terms with the fact that you too were not responsible for what happened to you and begin the process of healing. You were the victim of a crime. You are valuable and matter. You can call this out for what it is. You are a survivor. You are not responsible for what happened to you.
Julia x
The previous posts in this series can be found here, here, here, here and here.
The next sentence in the paragraph: You are not responsible for what happened to you.
This was such an important concept for me to understand. And, looking back, I am beginning to realise that not understanding that I was not responsible led to me fearing telling anyone what had happened and also left me taking the blame and feeling guilt and shame.
Let me explain...
When I was first abused, I was in shock. I couldn't understand what had happened. It actually took me years to understand what had actually happened. I was 8 years old when I was first abused by a family member and in the years that passed until I properly named what had happened, I came to some false conclusions. I think as humans, we want answers. We want to understand WHY things happen so we can make sense of them. I wanted to understand it so I could make sense of this horrible, confusing, painful thing that kept happening.
But, the problem was: I came to the wrong conclusion. I thought that I was the reason it was happening. I thought that there was something in my character that cried out: "Hurt me. That's all I'm worth." Or maybe I'd done something to deserve it, but didn't know.
The problem with both of these conclusions was this: they were putting the blame and responsibility in the wrong place. I, as the victim, was carrying responsibility that I never should have done, so this led to me:
1. Carrying blame
I lived carrying the weight of blame for this crime. I thought that it was my fault and so I couldn't tell anyone as it was something I should be ashamed of because I'd done something awful. I thought people would see me as a horrible, dirty person who'd done awful things.
Secondly, this led to me:
2. Carrying guilt
Because I thought I was responsible for what had happened to me, I felt guilty. I was carrying the guilt of the crime done against me because I was believing something false: that I was responsible. I felt that I'd done something wrong. I felt that I was to blame. This again meant that I couldn't describe it or disclose it for what it was and so continued in a cycle of guilt and silence.
Thirdly, this led to me:
3. Carrying shame
I was ashamed for what had happened to me. I felt I'd been part of a dirty activity that I'd somehow deserved and caused and so this made me a lesser human being. I felt shame for what had happened, as I thought I'd deserved it in my core being. The shameful feelings began to define me. This is what I thought people could see - the defiled nature of me.
But, the beginning of the healing process for me (through realising what consent was - see this post), was understanding that I'd been a victim of crime. I wasn't responsible for what had happened to me. Instead, the perpetrators were.
This was huge. I realised that I didn't have to carry blame, guilt and shame. I could call it out for what it was - a crime! And I wasn't to blame.
I could know that my identity wasn't wrapped up in being abused, because I didn't cause it by being 'worse' somehow than others. I wasn't a 'different' human being who deserved to be treated so badly. No - I was a victim of crime.
And this wasn't just as a child. You see, there were two stages to me understanding this.
The first was understanding that I'd been a victim of child sexual abuse. That seemed easier for me to realise than accepting that I'd been assaulted as an adult. I didn't realise that I was being inconsistent for years: I had accepted that I wasn't responsible for the child sexual abuse. How could I be? I was a child. But, fast-forward a few years, and as a 20-year old, I couldn't see that this truth transferred to my current situation as well. I couldn't see that I wasn't responsible for being sexually assaulted as a 20-year old.
Instead, I repeated the familiar lie of my childhood. I took the burden of responsibility upon myself, thinking that, somehow, I was to blame. Because I didn't have the reason that, "because I was a child, it was wrong," I couldn't see this assault as a crime. There was also another element that made it harder for me to accept. He was my new boyfriend and he'd only ever treated me well. He'd never laid a finger on me. We'd been friends for about a year and enjoyed a great friendship. I was (am still am), a Christian and so I wasn't going to have sex until I was married. He believed the same thing, so I felt safe.
However, when we met up for the first time after starting to go out with one another, he acted differently. He was very physical from the moment he met me on the train and this continued... We went to stay with his brother and then everyone disappeared, his brother and two housemates, to leave us alone... He then asked me to sit down on the sofa. I asked, "why? Can't we just chat?" I didn't understand, but felt safe. So I went to the sofa. I sat down. He started kissing me, using his strength, by pulling my head into his, so that I couldn't move away. I was shocked and scared. Old feelings of the hurt that had happened as a child returned. The betrayal and broken trust. He was forceful. His tongue was in my mouth, he pushed me down, climbed on top of me and assaulted me.
It took me years to even define what this was. Was this something I'd done wrong? Had I let things go too far? Was I responsible? I was an adult, so surely it was my choice? I let it happen, didn't I? But, the clarity came when I understood consent. I couldn't forget this. Years later it haunted me. I got married and had sex with my husband. But when he climbed on top of me, I froze. All the feelings of betrayal and pain came back. The same thing happened when we kissed. All I could visualise was what my 21-year old boyfriend had done to me. I felt sick.
This made me want to understand my response. So, I went on the RAINN website and clicked onto the hotline and waited for a response. As a chatted through that experience, I shared my fears and the blame I was carrying. That is when I was asked about consent and if I'd given it much thought. I said, 'no.' I was then taken through a really helpful article about consent. It helped me to see that I had been assaulted: I didn't want it. I wasn't happy with what he was doing to me and he wasn't checking in any way that I was okay with it. He had no communication that I wanted to do this and so I realised that he had assaulted me.
This was huge for me. It was sad and painful. It still is. I cared for him a lot. But, it also helped me to understand why I was feeling the way I was and responding to my husband as I was. This then opened the door for me to realise that I wasn't to blame and so I didn't need to carry the guilt and shame for something that he did.
This was the start of me breaking the silence. This was the start of me writing about my experiences as a survivor of child sexual abuse and as a survivor of sexual assault as an adult. I could name these things for what they were because I realised that I was not responsible.
I hope this helps you to come to terms with the fact that you too were not responsible for what happened to you and begin the process of healing. You were the victim of a crime. You are valuable and matter. You can call this out for what it is. You are a survivor. You are not responsible for what happened to you.
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