The first step to healing

For years, I struggled to accept that I was a victim of child sexual abuse and assault. I couldn’t bear to think the words, never mind say them. I remember trying to read various books and I’d block them out. I couldn’t bring myself to take that step.

Even now, I struggle to accept, not what happened as much, but the pain and hurt that goes with it. The pain is immense at times. It takes over my whole being. My body cries out in pain for the betrayal and hurt I suffered. I carry it with me in every fibre of my being. It's more than memories. It's more than remembering an event. 

The turning point was reading (or tried to read) Holcomb’s book ‘Rid of my Disgrace’ and a key element that they propose in the journey towards healing and recovery is defining and naming your assault. I didn’t understand why at first. I didn't want to define it. I didn't want to name it. I didn't want to accept it. 

But now I get why it's so crucial: understanding what happened to you and, more than that, accepting what happened is the first step to recovery. It’s the first step to healing as it opens the way for lies to be battled. Lies about yourself and the sexual violence. Lies about the perpetrator. It gives permission for truth to reign and healing to take place. 

This helped to open the door to recovery for me. The following posts were created in response to Holcomb's book, ‘Rid of my Disgrace’ here, here, here, here, here, here and here.

But, before I continue, I wanted to share some of the reasons that I struggled for so long to accept that I was a victim of child sexual abuse and assault as an adult. In one word: fear. 

Drowning in fear

Fear was my closest friend. Fear of losing control. Fear of others' reactions. Fear of how others would treat me. Fear that I wouldn’t cope. Fear that I wouldn’t make it. Fear of the unknown. Fear of losing friends. Fear of my world falling apart...

As I held onto fear as my faithful friend, I was trapped. Trapped in a cycle of lies and pain. Lies that told me I was to blame. That said I was the problem as I wasn’t strong enough to make it all go away. I believed I wasn’t worth anything that I’d deserved it. And this affected everything. I’m only just starting to realise how much these lies affected my life and permeated all that I did, but they affected me more than I dared to admit. (More about this in a future post). 

Looking fear in the face 

But fear doesn’t win. Fear doesn’t have the last word. Taking that first and gigantic step in accepting what had happened, allowing myself to feel, to cry to hurt. That was the hardest thing. But that was the open window. The open window that let the air in. The air of recovery that swept in and gave me a taste of the healing that was possible, allowing me to open the door to begin the journey of recovery. To step out and walk a different walk. A walk of pain, yes. A walk of acceptance, yes. But a walk where life began to come into my darkened body. I began to feel, see and taste the world again. The paralysis of fear was melting away as I accepted that I'd been hurt. When I named and accepted that I'd been a victim of sexual violence, not once, but several times through two perpetrators as a child and then once as an adult, I started to heal. 

There were so many other things to battle in those early days that flowed from this initial acceptance of what had happened. These things still rear their heads for me: feelings of self blame, worthlessness, being unloveable and dirty...

But the first step to begin to break the back of these lies was accepting what happened to me and to call it out for what it was. To be prepared to look fear in the eye and win. To look fear in the eye and walk on. Walk on into the unknown, beyond the fear towards healing and recovery. 

Beyond fear

The road to recovery isn’t easy. But it’s worth it. It’s a victory march that involves pain and tears, but it’s worth it. It’s worth it because it calls out wrong for what it is and enables survivors to be valued and loved for who they are: strong, brave warriors in the fight against evil. 

Keep fighting my friends. Keep saying no to fear. You are strong. You can begin the journey of healing. We're in this together. 

Julia xx