This series is focusing on the issue of struggling with focusing on your own needs. The series begins here.
Here is the last part of the reader’s email:
And I feel selfish for thinking sometimes that soooooooo many people have been abused that my experience is diminished because it almost seems like it’s the norm for a woman to have a past history of sexual abuse. Does any of this make sense or is it just rambling?
Unfortunately, it is normal for child abuse survivors to minimize their abuse. In the book Trauma and Recovery, Judith Herman explains the reason for this:
Though [the abused child] perceives herself as abandoned to a power without mercy, she must find a way to preserve hope and meaning. The alternative is utter despair, something no child can bear…By virtue of these defenses, the abuse is either walled off from conscious awareness and memory, so that it did not really happen, or minimalized, rationalized, and excused, so that whatever did happen was not really abuse. Unable to escape or alter the unbearable reality in fact, the child alters it in her mind. ~ Judith Herman, Trauma and Recovery, pp. 101-102
This is what we do as adults when we minimize our abuse, and we learned it in childhood. Most people who have heard my story tell me that it is one of the most extreme stories of child abuse that they have heard. Nevertheless, it took me a long time to pull out of the “others had it worse” mentality.
The bottom line is that even one incident of abuse is too many. If some monster raped my son one time, it would be far too many. That one incident would cause him to have nightmares, flashbacks, self-loathing, etc. There is no value in comparing our abuses because every incident of abuse is damaging.
I sometimes have people tell me that they feel like, after hearing my story, their abuse didn’t matter. I always tell them that, if they want to compare abuses, then let’s compare the healing. If I can heal after what I have been through, then you can heal, too. Let’s not focus on what broke us; let’s focus on the hope of healing.
I agree that having a history of sexual abuse is pretty much the norm for women (statistically one in three to one in four women, depending upon which study you cite). Rather than making the abuse less important, I think it makes society more terrifying. Child abuse is an epidemic, but society doesn’t want to believe it.
Let’s put this in perspective. President Obama recently declared the swine flu a national emergency because more than 1,000 people have died from it, over 20,000 have been hospitalized, and “many millions” of Americans have already had it (presumably without long-term aftereffects). People are referring to this as an epidemic, right?
The United States has over 307 million citizens. Statistics are that one in four women are sexually abused by age 18. Let’s assume that half of the Americans are women – that makes 153.5 million women. If one in four have been or will be sexually abused by age 18, we are talking about OVER 38 MILLION WOMEN who have been or will be sexually abused. (I am not even factoring in the one in five to seven men who have been sexually abused.) We are using words like “epidemic” to describe a flu that has only been serious enough to hospitalize or kill under 25,000 people, but we don’t see the brutalization of 38 MILLION WOMEN as an epidemic??
Never minimize the impact of abuse. These same women (and men) struggle with flashbacks, eating disorders, self-injury, drug abuse, suicide attempts, and all of the other crap that we deal with. Your abuse WAS “that bad,” and it needs to be healed. You deserve to heal and be freed from the aftereffects of the abuse.
Photo credit: Lynda Bernhardt






Yes, it sure is interesting to hear terms like “epidemic” used in that fashion. Right on Faith!
Have a safe and stress free Halloween weekend.
Peace,
mia
A while back I posted a memory on isurvive thinking it wasn’t important and I shouldn’t have. I was shocked when people said it was a bad thing that had happened and even a crime, what had been done to me!! Someone asked what I’d think if it was done to my own child. I’d move heaven and earth to a) to provide what my child needed for healing, b) make it stop and c) make sure the abuser never did that to another child.
So I agree, that it doesn’t matter if it’s epidemic, well no…the epidemic matters, but an epidemic is a series of individual sufferings and the individual matters.
I’ve had lots of memories in the 4 years they’ve been coming out. But only one has had outside corroboration of sorts. When I think I’m making too big a deal or disbelieving the memories, I remember it happened once…for sure…and that’s enough to work this healing through. sometimes that helps.
Ruby
Actually it’s closer to 60 % women to men. So there are way more than we think who are abused. My belief/experience is that people believe and pay attention to only what they see or what is dramatic – such as H1N1. It came up quickly, it kills, we can fight it (short term) and eventually win. Child abuse has been around for so long that most people, even abused as children fail to see it anymore. It is covert, it is not immediately obvious to an onlooker and no one encourages us to speak of it. It is the white elephant in the room that no one wants to deal with. (down soapbox, down!) (smiles)
These are excellent points Faith. Once again, thanks for speaking out on this.
It’s sad, really, that there is not a greater call to action. When we see incidents like the Jaycee Dugard case, where the town was filled with sex offenders and there were many missed opportunities for authorities to step in, you really have to wonder.
[...] Minimizing Abuse: “Other People Had it Worse” « Blooming Lotus. [...]
It is sad that so many survivors tend to minimize their abuse. A friend insisted that I call my sexual abuse the rape that it was. I didn’t see it as rape because there was no violence other than the threat of violence if I didn’t behave the way that my dad wanted me to.
Thanks for sharing the numbers. It really is an epidemic isn’t it.
This line of thought (“other people had it worse”) has been, by far, my greatest obstacle. Your words make sense to me, but I just can’t get around the mentality. I read your story and thought that my experiences were nothing by comparison. I do find your healing to be (hugely) inspiring and empowering, but a big part of healing is admitting that there is something to be healed.
Maybe on a place like iSurvive, others (beside my therapist) would tell me that it was abuse, and I would start to believe them… but I would also be seeing all the other heart-rending stories that make mine seem like nothing.
I think this is especially hard when you were extremely emotionally attached to the abuser. Part of my relationship, even the majority (as far as time goes) with the abuser was close, warm, and nurturing. I loved and idolized him, and would never have wanted to hurt him – hence the huge resistance at labeling anything as abuse.
Hi, Angie.
I hear you.
I idolized my father and spent most of my childhood (up until his death when I was 16) trying to please him. In some ways, he was my savior by stopping my mother’s direct abuse. However, he also did not stop the ritual abuse that he knew about, and he was (I think) manipulated into being in compromising sexual positions with my sister and me — We both have memories of that night, but he never abused us otherwise. Our memories include him being blindfolded in some and passed out in others. (He never again drank after that night.) My sister thinks he didn’t stop the ritual abuse for a long time because he was being blackmailed by the pictures taken.
In some ways, he was my abuser (even though I do believe he was manipulated). He also chose my mother over me — stopped her direct abuse but never got me counseling. My feelings are so conflicted toward him because he was both my savior and the enabler of my abuse.
I finally reached a place of honoring my anger toward him without letting go of the good stuff (and there were some good things). I think this dynamic is so much more complicated. I don’t have this conflict with my mother, my first abuser.
- Faith
Thank you for replying, Faith. Your comment actually made a big difference to me, because this part of your story does contain some parallels to mine. I also idolized my father, and though he was the abuser I was referring to in my original comment, he was abused in his own way (by my mother).
And you’re right, this kind of situation is very difficult. The feelings of anger and betrayal are real, but you can’t help thinking that in a different situation (different people surrounding them, etc), it might never have happened… and of course there are the good memories, too. So I feel tenderness and pity towards him along with the hurt.
It’s very different from when you can unequivocally say that your abuser was a sick person and should never even have been allowed around children.
Again, thank you for the kind and thoughtful reply.