I have never shared this story publicly. I have never talked about this part of my past with anyone, outside of a couple of close friends and family. All of my healing has been done privately, in and out of therapy. Figuring out what works for me and how I would even begin to piece my life back together after the rug was pulled out from under me almost 16 years ago. I’ve finally reached a peaceful place in my life, partly due to finding love in someone else, partly finding the ability to love myself. The biggest part of my peace being the forgiveness I have given.
Finding the peace within myself has allowed me to reach a point where I want to talk with and help others. When I first entered therapy I had sworn that once I had made my own peace, I would help others in any way that I could. I thought it would be something that I could do within a little bit of time and then I could get to helping others and speaking about this trauma that simply isn’t spoken about. Here I am 12 years later, only just now feeling like I can share this story. Only just now feeling that peace, that urge to share, and finally being comfortable enough to share. Finally at the point where I really feel like I can help others. Help them find their healing, help them see the light at the end of the tunnel. To be that person that I needed.
I’ll get into more of that at another time, but I want to give you my story. I want to publicly share the part of my past that I’ve never shared before. You may have read this already, if you read the linked article in Friday’s post, but I wanted to address it here. Directly on my blog. So, here we go…
I was emotionally abused for 10+ Years and physically abused everyday for 7 of those years (everyday for 5, off and on for 2) by a parent. The person who was supposed to be my guide, my champion, supposed to be everything, was instead my tormentor. I went through my childhood with the expectation of perfection placed on me (and criticized, put down, insulted if not) and my adolescent years with an unthinkable amount of fear. Child abuse is not just being scared, it is a traumatic event that changes everything. Everything about you, everything about your life, and everything about everyone you come into contact with.
Before I even had the opportunity to have a voice, it was taken away from me. Before I could even understand what was truly right and wrong, what I wanted to be or do, what true happiness could be, I knew what fear was. Not just being scared of something, but true fear. True terror. In some ways I can’t put to words what I was feeling, but in other ways it is crystal clear.
As I said to start this post, I have reached a good space. A space where I can handle the tough moments, when all of those emotions, fears, and moments come back. I feel like I am at that light at the end of the tunnel, when you know that the tunnel is coming to an end, but there is still a bit of darkness. It has been a long and tough road to get here, and it is a road that will continue for the rest of my life. I have also recognized that having gone through this, having worked through it, and having come out on the other side, I am a better person for that. I am a better wife, mom, a better person all together.
I want to end this by saying that I will be starting to talk more about trauma, child abuse, and dealing with both of these factors a little more frequently on my blog. There will still be plenty of my usual happy go lucky content (as I am that happy go lucky, keep all things cosy, find the silver lining kinda girl), but I want to start sharing more of my story. I find that Childhood Trauma and Abuse is a topic that doesn’t seem to get enough attention (unless it is a major event) and it is something that is more common than we think.