Child Abuse Story of Healing and Recovery from Amy1

by Amy
(Location Undisclosed)

Many Strong Lessons: 
Thank you for this site, Darlene. Reading some of the comments and insecurities of others, I finally found the strength to stop denying and ridiculing myself as "the sole victimiser and victim". I feel secure that that our personal boundaries are like onions, not doors or normal houses, and they are *justly* filled with layer upon layer. At almost 21, I can now be clear and assertive, and feel free to enjoy. I love awareness.

Just recently, I had a healing dream. In it, I had a new boyfriend, whom I didn't know well, but he was really nice. We may have been friends, but not close friends. We were at my home, and scheduled to leave for a gaming activity soon - something like paintball. In the next scene, somehow the topic of my underwear came up. It was showing a bit. I said I liked it because of the frills and bunny and he said it was really cute. We were sitting around with friends and I was lying on the couch. He was staring a little blankly. I looked down, and to my shock my underwear was showing again. I didn't mean to do that, and quickly covered myself. I was giving him the wrong signals and wanted to disappear. I went to my room but on the way, accidentally brushed against him, and he was hard. I went faster to my room and checked that my outfit was fine for the game.

Just then he came in, which was a normal thing for us as friends. I had a loving family who cared a lot about my well-being, and they were just in the other room. But they didn't matter. There was a dirty, used sanitary liner on my bed. I picked it up to hide it, clutched it, and sort of curled on the side of my bed. At this point he didn't suspect a thing was wrong, and I'd only been giving him encouragement. He spooned me, but respectfully. He felt my leg, I liked it, I was so sensitive to his touch, but I kept being afraid that it would become inappropriate. I would have enjoyed kissing him, but I was afraid that if I did kiss him, it would mean I'd have to do more. I was afraid of feeling guilty for not putting out even though I'd led him on, that he would be upset or otherwise make me feel inconsiderate for not doing so. I was afraid of ridiculing myself for having poor judgment again, if he turned out to be a bad person.

But in the dream, he was very considerate - in his ACTIONS and general demeanor. Nothing was inappropriate, and I felt safe and strong enough to tell him what I felt.

Because I experienced the dream, I more fully realised that I do have rights. I have the right TO NOT FEEL GUILTY for standing up for my rights, even if it would make others unhappy. I have the right to stand up for my rights. I realised that another's happiness does not cancel out or outweigh my unhappiness. I am now certain that my needs, my basic emotional needs TO NOT FEEL VIOLATED, come before the requirements of others to feel good. I have no obligation whatsoever to give up my body, my temple, to those who don't really care about me. And if they really cared about me, they would be happiest respecting my basic rights. Regardless, I feel proud and safe when I am assertive and own my personal power, and this is only good!

This is a key incident from my actual past:

I had just ended an unhappy, empty, blasé, mostly sexual relationship that had lasted over a year. I had done this by breaking up with the ex, sleeping with some other guy, then 'not being taken back'. Things didn't turn out so well with the second guy, at which point I had been introduced to his friend. I was 16, was naïve and sheltered, and his friend was a 24 year old goth. I liked him and wanted to be friends, so agreed to go over to his place.

We cuddled, watched movies and ended up kissing and taking off clothes. I thought it was far too soon, but then went down on me. He gave me eye contact and he would have stopped if I'd said something, but I was confused about my stance on sex. It was nice enough, it made others happy, that sort of made me feel happy, safe, worthwhile. It felt a bit wrong, but I thought that was just me being silly.

After that, we decided we were in a relationship. It would last the 3 months I had left in the country, before I moved overseas with my family. We cuddled and kissed often, and looked so sweet together. The first time we had sex, I was on top. I went slowly because it hurt, and I am quite a small person. But that annoyed and frustrated him. He didn't say anything, but his face did, and that was enough for me. From my general home life, I had learned it was inconsiderate to be unhappy about certain things, we should just be happy with each other, we should be nice, it's so sad for us not to be happy. I hurt myself. I violated myself. I pushed it in and made him happy. And then I learned to enjoy it, and want it more. He never gave me enough sex, and I was always asking for it to be harder.

Two weeks before I was to leave the country, I tried broaching the subject of how our relationship would continue, and suggested that it'd be easier to break up. He didn't want to. He cried on the last night, and told me he loved me. Two weeks after, he got drunk and slept with a random girl. I was so angry, because this showed he didn't care about me, I'd given him 'so much' so that he would care about me, and not long ago at all, I'd told him I'd had a nightmare about him sleeping with another girl. I told him that it made me cry, and he should have cared more that I cried (this is tied to another incident with someone else, but that's another story). It took me a while, 2-3 years, to understand how this was all so twisted, and to not get caught up in the same negative cycles.

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