My Childhood Sexual Abuse Story, Part 12

There's really not much more to say about this post. I think I said it all in the last two paragraphs. 

So I guess the moral of this story is, if you perverts are thinking you can mess around with children and get away with it, well, you can. Just make sure you pick a child like I was, extremely introverted and introspective, good at hiding things away for long periods of time. A child who is very obedient, very quiet, a peacekeeper. Oh wait, those ARE the kinds of kids you creeps pick. You lowlifes aren't as dumb as you look.

But just remember. That introverted, introspective kid who is the perfect choice to become the victim of your felonious, deviant sexual behaviors is probably going to be the perfect choice to become something else, too.

A writer.

(originally posted February 6, 2012) 

Your comments have been very thoughtful and educational, not just for me but for others reading this story. Please keep them coming! Here's another question for you: Do you think there should be a statute of limitations on prosecuting child molesters? There's no SOL for murder, but there often is for rape and child molestation. 

After thorough interviews with key players in the family, and after setting up the details for a wiretapped phone call, the investigators informed me they'd had overlooked that my date of birth made it impossible for the state to prosecute my ex-brother-in-law for the felony he committed. The DA caught it and informed the investigators that there was nothing they could do at this point. The PA child molestation statute of limitations law changes depending upon your year of birth. It was a major disappointment for all of us. The investigators have compiled a file with all of the interviews and videotapes, so that will be on record at least.

Is there a part of me that's outrageously angry at my family for not turning my abuser in when this first happened and getting it taken care of right away, when it would have been easy? Of course. Is there a part of me that's hating myself up for not realizing all of this 8 years ago, when I would have been able to prosecute? Of course. But I'll get over all of that eventually. My ex-brother-in-law got off scot-free twice before, why should a third time surprise me?

The child molestation statute of limitations law in PA is pretty archaic, comparatively. The Sandusky Penn State mess is forcing the state to review the SOL laws, as a few of those boys are too old to prosecute as well, so there may be a time in the future when my abuser can be prosecuted. Every state has different SOL laws but many states have been revising theirs because it's becoming very clear that most child victims of sexual abuse don't start coming to grips with it until they're in their 30s or 40s.

So I guess the moral of this story is, if you perverts are thinking you can fuck around with children and get away with it, well, you can. Just make sure you pick a child like I was, extremely introverted and introspective, good at hiding things away for long periods of time. A child who is very obedient, very quiet, a peacekeeper. Oh wait, those ARE the kinds of kids you creeps pick. You lowlifes aren't as dumb as you look.

But just remember. That introverted, introspective kid who is the perfect choice to become the victim of your felonious, deviant sexual behaviors is probably going to be the perfect choice to become something else, too.

A writer.

My Childhood Sexual Abuse Story, Part 11

I believe there are some criminals that cannot be understood or helped by regular Toms, Dicks, or Bobs. Even if those Toms, Dicks, and Bobs are counselors. Understanding the mind of a pedophile and knowing how best to deal with one is a specialty all its own. No church is equipped to counsel a pedophile and keep the congregation's children safe from such perversion. 

A pedophile's mind is incomprehensible to the everyday Tom, Dick, and Bob. Tom, Dick, and Bob have NEVER entertained touching a 12 year old girl, or an 8 year old boy, or a 2 year old baby, sexually. That thought COULDN'T enter their minds. So without extensive training by professionals on how to understand pedophilia, how can they even begin to properly monitor and counsel a child molester...

It's narcissistic and self-important to think YOU have to ability to counsel a pedophile. 

And let's remember in my case, there was NO plan put into place to deal with my abuser. No counseling, no monitoring, no weekly discussions, NOTHING.  He had to step down from the board of deacons at church the next week, for vague reasons of sexual impropriety. That's it. 

I received stronger punishments for not cleaning my room once a week.

(originally posted February 3, 2012)

Do you think it's possible to handle a child molester without getting the police involved?

At the time my abuser, my ex-brother-in-law, was found out, my father was against State involvement. He believed everything should be taken care of within the church family. I'm not one to ever say there is only ONE way to handle anything, but I certainly think a child molester needs more of a plan than just, "Confess, repent, we forgive you, and it's over".

Would it ever be an option, if the church is going to handle a child molester on their own, of putting a plan into place that includes:

• long term counseling for both the offender and the victim
• removal from any position of authority
• pressure put on the offender to remove himself from any position that places the offender around children, with threats of police intervention if that doesn't happen
• long term counseling for the spouse, the children, the extended family
• full disclosure to the other families in the church
• if the offender leaves that church, the police should be called, thereby forcing the offender to stay in a place where he's watched and held accountable

What do you think? It is possible that a plan like that could have some effect? My husband and I have been attending Christ's Church of the Valley for a few years now. Being a megachurch with a bazillion members, the feeling there might be a little different than at a 200 member traditional Baptist church in the late 80s, but I'd be curious to know. For those of you involved in leadership at a church, what would your plan of action be? Would you immediately call the police? Or would you try to handle it within the body of believers?

ORIGINAL COMMENTS

Pamela H, Feb 3 11:10am: Police always. Following your thread from the other post, that we would call the police if it was a murder. It would follow to always call the police if a child is molested. I know that teachers have a mandatory reporting "rule" if they hear of abuse. Did it not apply to clergy in the 80"s?

Nicole, Feb 3 1:00pm: Police. There is no question. Is this because I'm a mother? I don't know. I am not fanatical about any organization (church, school, football team, whatever) enough to protect it by keeping silent or hesitating once the truth is known. There is no allegiance that trumps a crime of that magnitude. I think you've shown a tremendous amount of grace and restraint in your posts. You obviously love your family very much. Let no one tell you otherwise.

Iya H, Feb 3 5:16pm: I have to agree. I know for a fact (from first hand experience), that any paid staff member of a church is a recognized "required reporter" by the state, for at least the last 15 years, and volunteers are encouraged to report even a suspicion of abuse. In a Utopia, perhaps accountability, reconciliation and healing could be managed by individuals in a group, but that is not reality. Humanity is broken, civilization requires laws and authorities for that very reason. Thank you, Suzanne, for allowing us to be a part of this journey, will continue to pray it brings you the healing you seek.

Anonymous, Feb 3 7:53pm: I don't think that any church is capable of providing careful and thorough counseling in most situations. I know that pastors can't fully evaluate whether or not they are ABLE to provide that counseling, so that leaves the weaker party in a difficult position of being unprotected, uncounseled and possibly not nurtured. Sounds like that is what happened despite good intentions. I know that it is what happened to me with abuse in a marriage. I trusted church leadership too much and pastors over the years were not able to diagnose the imbalance in the home, the abuse and my skewed view of submission.

Police, yes with child abuse. Even with a little church in a small town, how can monitoring be total? Too risky for other children. And most of all, very detrimental to the victim who NEEDS professional counseling.

Anonymous, Feb 4 12:16am: I am not so sure that the police are the best course of action for rehabilitation for your ex-brother-in-law, if I can focus on the here and now for a second. Would the police be best for punishment? Sure. Absolutely. There is really no better (legal and ethical) way for him to be punished than to have the law do its work, from public trials to public incarceration for his terribly shameful acts.

But this brings up another question - would YOU be more satisfied if he were to punished in that manner versus being sent through a rehabilitation program? I know if some dude messed with me as kid (and I'm a dude) I would want to hunt his sorry butt down and make him pay dearly in a shawshank kind of way. But the Christian me would know that I need to forgive too. Wow. I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through now Suzanne. I'm praying for you.

Anonymous, Feb 4 9:40am: I agree with 2/3, 9:16pm Anonymous, but I see the priorities as: 1. Healing for Suzanne 2. Stopping this from happening ever again by perpetrator 3. Help for her ex-brother-in-law to not do again. #2 comes before #3 in my mind. And #1, at this late date, is paramount.

Anonymous, Feb 5 9:06am: I think not involving the police in handling sex abuse cases is how the Catholic Church got into such a mess with its own sexual abuse situation.

Anonymous, Feb 5 2:34pm: God instituted government in Gen 9:6 to administer the death penalty in the preservation of the dignity of man as an image bearer of God. Paul also identifies the human government is a God given instrument to maintaining righteous, healthy community order. So, the government is God's instrument for maintaining good and righteous order in society. It should be called in play its rightful role in maintaining safe, righteous and healthy society.

My Childhood Sexual Abuse Story, Part 10

This post brought up one of the main questions that was running through my mind at the time. Why was my family so opposed to calling the police? I realize now that the main reason probably had to do with my Dad's extreme distrust of the government. The "dogs of Caesar", as he says to this day... To invite the "dogs" in was the last thing you'd want to do. So again, because the police weren't called, I thought what happened to me must not have been that serious. No emergency, move along. Nothing to see here, folks. False alarm.

My father chose to handle the situation in his own way. To ultimately disastrous results.


(originally posted February 2, 2012)

Why do some people react the way they do upon hearing a horrifying story, like one of child molestation?

Why is it so hard for some to just call the police? If your house was robbed, you'd call the police immediately, with no thought of the robber's family, their children, their spouses, their livelihood, their spiritual status.

If you walked into your home and found your wife and 3 children stabbed to death, you'd immediately call the police. You wouldn't stop to consider the murderer's family, their children, their spouses, their livelihood, their spiritual status.

If your child was kidnapped, you'd immediately call the police. You wouldn't stop to consider the kidnapper's family, their children, their spouses, their livelihood, their spiritual status.

Why is this different? Why do some people get stuck when it comes to child molestation? In my case, I'm sure the fact that the abuse was intrafamilial played a huge part. If I'd been molested by a stranger, I can't imagine my family wouldn't have called the police immediately. But because the molester's spouse was my sister, his children were my parents' grandchildren, the line became blurry.

Joe Paterno was told by Mike McQueary in the Penn State scandal that McQueary SAW Sandusky having anal intercourse with a boy he estimated to be 10 years old. Joe Paterno did not call the police, he reported the incident up the chain of command. Why were both of their reactions so skewed?

You could argue that the Penn State situation was intrafamilial too. That football organization was so longstanding, and the leaders so respected (especially the criminal), that even in the face of IRREFUTABLE evidence, the bystanders couldn't have an unbiased reaction.

McQueary SAW a boy being raped by Sandusky. My ex-brother-in-law CONFESSED to molesting me. Yet these evidences weren't enough to spur people to action. It makes you believe that the influence of the leaders was so strong and the atmosphere of the organizations so thick that people second guessed their own instincts.

Families are organizations. Football teams are organizations. Maybe what we're seeing is the danger of organized groups and their leaders?

Discuss....

My Childhood Sexual Abuse Story, Part 9

Two years ago on this blog I broke through the door of the room in my brain where I'd hidden this story and all the emotions relating to it. The events leading up to this breakthrough seemed so inconsequential at the time, but as I look back it's amazing to see that each of those little events played such a big part in nudging me towards saving myself.

Another event that I didn't mention involves my middle brother, who is 8 years older than I. Maybe 6 months or so before I started blogging about my story, I was at his house and he casually mentioned having had lunch with my abuser. I put on the face I've learned to use my whole life when people in my family talk about my abuser, my "Oh, how nice! That's interesting! Nothing about this conversation fazes me!" face.

My brother was sharing with me that during this lunch, my abuser was telling my brother he shouldn't trust a certain person, because that person lies. I couldn't believe the balls, or ignorance, or lack of caring it took for my brother to look ME in the face and say, " [insert abuser's name] said so-and-so LIES!!"

I came so close to physical violence in that moment. My heart was beating so fast, I was getting overheated, and my fists were clenching. I wanted to hit my brother in the face so badly. I'd never felt that way before in my life. I'd never had such a physical reaction to anything. It was like what I imagine a panic attack feels like. But I'd never even so much as expressed the slightest irritation to ANYONE in my family, for daring to speak about my abuser in casual ways in front of me. So how could I all of a sudden start doing so after 25 years? 

But I had to say something or I was going to physically explode. So I looked at my brother and said through clenched teeth, "ABUSER'SNAME called someone ELSE a liar???!?!! He's not allowed to EVER call ANYONE a liar!"

My brother looked so taken aback and sheepish. For a moment I felt badly for him but then I remembered that HE SHOULD KNOW BETTER. Even if I've never forced anyone in my family to consider my feelings, at least one of them should be able to do it on their own. 

Does it take a lot of thought to realize you probably don't want to mention, to your sister, that you had lunch with the man who molested her? And that you probably don't want to tell her with great animation the interesting conversations you had with this man? 

Is that really something I had to spell out? Is my family that dumb?
(originally published on February 1, 2012)

More on how I arrived to this place after 25 years of hiding:

While the incident with my daughter's pictures was one trigger moment for me, it wasn't the first. The first was a day maybe 6 or 7 years ago when my brother Eric came to my house to talk. He and I had been estranged for a good 5-6 years at that point, so this visit was a huge surprise.

We talked for a long time, and in the course of that conversation, the molestation issue came up. I was shocked  when Eric started telling me how he felt after he found out what our ex-brother-in-law had done to me. It was the first time anyone in my family had shown a reaction at all to the situation, and we were 19 years past it. I could barely breathe as he used words like "disgusted", phrases like "it changed my feelings towards him"...He then disclosed to me other information that he knew about our ex-brother-in-law, relative to deviant behaviors.

If you know me at all, you know my greatest talent is my ability to not react. I was using it to the fullest that day, but in reality my insides were a raging mess. I couldn't believe the effect that just hearing him speak those words was having on me. I felt like someone had lifted one of the hundreds of cinder blocks off my chest.

After he left, I couldn't shake my crazy emotions. I felt on one hand so relieved to hear just one person in my family verbalize what I'd always thought deep down inside, but on the other hand so stupid that a few spoken sentences could make me feel so good.

I spent the next year ruminating on that experience, trying to figure out why my brother's words that day had such a monumental effect on me. Looking back now, it all makes sense. He was the first one in my family to vocalize to me the truth of what had happened. He cracked open a door that had been locked, spackled over, sanded and painted to look as if it wasn't there anymore.

What started pouring out of that door might not have been pretty, but it couldn't have stayed in there much longer without starting to rot me from the inside out...

My Childhood Sexual Abuse Story, Part 8

This was one of those posts I was desperate for my family to read and to "get". As I read it back today, I still am desperate for them to "get" it. You can't imagine the damage you cause to a child's mind when you follow "He's molested you" with a BUT. 

But alas, they either never read it, or they read it and didn't get it. Because they're still following "Yes, he's a child molester" with loads of BUTS. "But he's a good father!" "But he came to all of my softball games!" "But he paid for my college education!" "But he's the father of my children!" 

And the worst BUT that a few of them have said to me was "But he only ever molested one kid!"

While all of those statements may be true, they don't negate the first. Nor do they lessen the first statement's criminality. Nor do they lessen my pain. In fact, they only ever ADDED TO my pain. 

So thanks for that, family....thanks for that.

(originally published January 31, 2012)

I have two points to make today. The first further explains why I chose to write in graphic detail about my abuse.

I got so tired of hearing from some in my family phrases that started with, "Yes, Amy's husband molested you, BUT..." and were followed by, "...he's a good father" or "...he helped me financially once" or "....he repented." Those buts started making me want to scream, and let me explain why.

For all of my life until now, I'd either heard the previous statements expressed or felt them insinuated by most in my family. As a young teenager, I figured those statements must be true so I accepted them as my own. When I tried to make friends throughout my life and the friendships would get to a point where I felt compelled to share my story, I'd use the previous statements. And that's when those friendships would end. Those statements are CRAZY to the general population, so they assume the person uttering them must be crazy too. I spent 25 years trying to explain away a child molester to everyone I met, making myself as much of a social pariah as is a child molester.

THERE CAN BE NO BUTS AFTER CERTAIN STATEMENTS.

There can be periods. There can be no buts. Let me give you an example:

If I said to you, "The sky is blue, but frog legs taste like chicken", what would you think? Would you respond, "Agreed, that makes total sense!" Or would you smile and nod your head, while backing away slowly so you could make a quick getaway when the men in the white jackets showed up?

Now, I could say, "The sky is blue" and then say, "Frog legs taste like chicken!" Two independent statements, neither has any bearing on the other. I don't seem crazy, I just seem random.

I can no longer hear anyone use a BUT after saying, "Your ex-brother-in-law molested you." Because that sounds crazy to me, and I'm no longer participating in crazy. This is what I hear when you use a but: "Your ex-brother-in-law molested you, but frog legs taste like chicken..." Crazy, right? You have to be able to say, "Your ex-brother-in-law molested you PERIOD".

And I believe that saying PERIOD is important not just for the victim but for the offender. The offender needs to know that there is NO excuse for what he did. My ex-brother-in-law has heard those BUTS for 25 years too. I believe hearing those BUTS has made him feel as if what he did was less heinous of a crime. Saying PERIOD is important for my family too, to erase all the blurriness that surrounds this whole issue.

If, after saying PERIOD, you want to say, "Your ex-brother-in-law is a good father", that's your prerogative. But you have to acknowledge what is objective, and acknowledge it followed by a period. Good is a subjective term, and everyone has their own definitions for that word. My ex-brother-in-law is a child molester. That's not a subjective statement. Now, maybe you want to argue over whether the verb in that statement should be "is" or "was"; we can certainly address that in another post.

My graphic writing has eliminated the BUTS in my mind, and maybe in some others'.

Okay, point number two. I've had a lot of conversations about child sexual abuse in the last week, and one opinion that may be out there begs some discussion. I'm wondering if there is anyone out there who considers sexual abuse of a child in the same realm as adultery, or sex with an adult?

I know what my answer is to that question, and I know what the professional answer is to that question, but I'm curious as to what YOUR answer is to that question? When you are feeling horny, when you haven't had sex in a long time, do you occasionally think about finding a 12 year old to mess around with? When your marriage isn't going so well, do you ever consider turning to a child to satisfy yourself?

I'd love to hear your comments on that topic. If any professionals are reading my posts, those in the counseling field or the law field, I'd love to hear your perspectives. Can you relate child sexual abuse and adult-to-adult sex at all?


Profile of a child molester. 

Marital status doesn’t correlate to whether a person is a sexual predator or not. KEY FACT: A man deprived of sex does not morph into a child sexual predator. Molesting children is about preferring the power position and avoiding vulnerability. The taste for sex with children is separate from a normal human adult sex drive oriented to adults.

Wikipedia definitions of child sexual abuse and offenders:

Situational offender – does not prefer children, but offend under certain conditions.Regressed  – Typically has relationships with adults, but a stressor causes them to seek children as a substitute.

The Molester's Mindset:

 Often a child abuser acts less from genuine libidinousness than from rage, impulse or a simple desire to dominate another person.

This is a great book, written by an FBI profiler for professionals who are investigating child molesters.  I read through the whole thing and found it very informative and eye opening.

My Childhood Sexual Abuse Story, Part 7

One week into blogging about my sexual abuse and I'd received so many messages from people I could barely respond to them all. Those messages were so helpful, partially in that they distracted me from the painful fact there were many in my very own family who I hadn't heard from and still haven't heard from two years later. 

My Childhood Sexual Abuse Story, Part 6

My brother Eric Lewis made this profound statement in January of 2012, in regards to what should be expected from my ex-brother-in-law who molested me. This statement also spoke to the pervasive nature of the patriarchal culture we were living in at the time. As I think about this statement today, and I think about the controversial ways my brother has chosen to handle what he believes are his responsibilities in this matter, this is what I've come to:

A crime as crude and dirty as this one; a cover-up as dark and unconscious as this one; a lifetime of living in a false reality; aftereffects that no one in the family could escape... The crime my ex-brother-in-law committed was extreme. Maybe the only way to change the course of a family is to blow it up in an equally extreme manner. 

Sometimes a house is so rotten, demolition is the only answer. Nothing of value can be built on foundations so deeply warped. 

(originally published January 28, 2012)

A lie lived over 25 years, and constructed into the foundation of the next generation, demands a confession of great architectural depth if repair is to avert demolition. - Eric Lewis

My Childhood Sexual Abuse Story, Part 5

This was one of my favorite posts. The only way I could describe the pervasiveness of my inner turmoil was with the story of my daughter's pictures. That story, for me, is the classic example of how childhood trauma affects the brain.

People connected to my abuser would contact me in these first few weeks of blogging, asking me what I wanted from him. Asking me to tell them the things he could do to get me to stop blogging. They, and my abuser, couldn't get it through their heads that it wasn't about what I WANTED. Someone who is truly sorry for what they've done will know the things they could do to start earning forgiveness from their victim, and they'll do them. Without being told to do so. 

I'll tell you what it is I DIDN'T want. For my abuser to sue me for defamation, saying this whole story was a lie. For my family, who knew via the horse's mouth the story was true, to support my abuser in suing me and my brother. 

That's not a sign of repentance. That's not a sign of caring about the person you hurt so badly. 

It's actually the exact opposite.

_________________________________________________________________________________

(originally posted January 27, 2012)


How do I respond to a question asking, "What is it you want from your ex-brother-in-law now?"

A series of events during a five year period led me to this day. One of the first of those events occurred  about four years ago. I was going through some pictures of my children as toddlers, pictures from a time before I had a digital camera. I came upon a few pictures of my beautiful daughter. She was probably 18 months old in the pictures. I was immediately overcome with the realization that  in these pictures my daughter looked exactly like one of my ex-brother-in-law's daughters, one of my nieces. One of my nieces that I've always thought looked more like her dad than my sister.

I had a knee jerk reaction so severe, so unlike me, that looking back on it I can barely believe it really happened. I covered my mouth with my hand and felt nauseous, because my brain looked at that photo and processed the information as, "YOUR DAUGHTER LOOKS LIKE THE MAN WHO MOLESTED YOU". Without a second thought I jumped up, ran the pictures over to the shredder in my bedroom and shoved them in the slot, my heart beating so fast I thought it was going to explode. As I watched the pictures being destroyed my brain was saying over and over again "GetRidOfThem GetRidOfThem GetRidOfThem GetRidOfThem!!!!!!!"

Those of you who know me are probably reading that in a little bit of shock. You know me as someone who doesn't act impulsively. Someone who analyzes every word and move for eons before acting on them. So you can understand why this incident left such a lasting impression on me.

Not five seconds after the last picture was torn into hundreds of strips, it hit me. "Idiot, it's genetically impossible for your daughter to look anything like your brother-in-law. If your daughter looks like your niece, it must mean your niece looks like your SISTER! So it follows that your daughter looks like your SISTER, dumbass!!"

I hated myself so much in that moment. The realization that my daughter looked like my sister would make me nothing but proud because I love my sister, but my messed up psyche made me believe something impossible for a few seconds. Seconds that I could never get back. And I started crying. I felt stupid and embarrassed. I realized I needed to start taking care of that messed up bit of my mind that could inspire such ridiculous behavior in me.

I started seething, hating my sister's ex-husband again. Hating him so much I wanted to act on it. Hating him for implanting screwed up information in my childhood brain. Hating him for doing something so damaging to me as a child it would cause me as an adult to destroy my beautiful daughter's pictures, pictures that I could never get back.

So how do I respond to that question? I can easily respond with what I WANT from my abuser, I've thought about that most every day of my life. Sometimes I've even dreamed about what I want. My dance partner turned lifelong friend Richard (Half of Team MandM) explained in heart wrenching detail about how as an abused child he used to daydream about bad things happening to the guy who abused him. My wants are all emotion based....Do I say:

I want my daughter's pictures back?

I want the memory of your f***ing ugly face with its stupid eyes rolled back in its head and its fat mouth hanging wide open while you jerk off out my head?

I want you to perform castration upon yourself?

I want you to spend 5 years in a prison cell spending each endless day dreading nightfall because you know your big bald tattooed cellmate named Tiny is going to roll you over in your bunk and make you scream like a little girl?

I can say all of those things and they'd be true WANTS. And I can say those things and still be a Christian. I don't expect all of those things to actually happen (although I've heard rumors about Tiny). And they're not necessarily what should happen. I can separate emotional wants from practical expectations.

The point is that it shouldn't matter what I WANT from the man who molested me. What matters is what he SHOULD do, regardless of my feelings. He should apologize to me as an adult for his crime. He should apologize to my entire family for his crime, now that they all are aware of the enormity of what he did and its effects. He should preemptively turn himself in to the police as soon as possible and confess to any other criminal acts he's committed. He should get himself into some sort of treatment/rehab program to deal with whatever  caused him to commit this crime in the first place. There's a lot of things he should and could do.

This isn't about making me feel better, it's about paying consequences for felonious actions. I'm assuming those consequences will make me feel just as good as some of my emotional wants would, we shall see.

(Also, I just want to make another quick point. My parents made the mistake of being too naive. While that was an egregious mistake, it was not a crime. Only one person in my story committed a crime. A felony, even. We all make mistakes as parents, even egregious ones. I have no doubt that in 30 years one of my children will be blogging about some horrifying thing I did that they had to get over. Hopefully when that happens I'll be as graceful as those in my family who've realized their mistakes and made amends for them.)

*People have been emailing me privately to ask if they can share this blog with people in their lives experiencing similar situations. By all means, pass my story along. I've gotten so many private responses, people sharing their personal stories with me, that I'm realizing sharing my story might do more than just help me through my process.*

My Childhood Sexual Abuse Story, Part 4

Forgiveness. Christians love to throw that word around. They certainly loved throwing it at me. Timing is usually not a Christian's strong suit. When someone is telling your their story of abuse; hurt, crying, in the midst of a major earth shattering realization, that's probably not the best time to raise your eyebrows and say, "Well you know, Jesus told us to forgive our enemies". 

Why can't Christians handle letting someone go through the steps in their own time? Why is it so imperative to them that emotional situations be tied up in a pretty little bow TODAY RIGHT THIS MINUTE AND NOT ONE SECOND LATER? "You need to say you're sorry, and you need to say you forgive him, and you don't need to talk about this ever again because I can't handle it and it makes me uncomfortable and Jesus doesn't like ambiguity and I don't like feeling this way and please don't make me feel this way ever again because this is all about me ,ok thanks, bye".

Those in my family who threw the word forgiveness in my face as it related to my abuser made me laugh inside because they had no idea THEY were the people I was working so hard to try and forgive. My abuser was so far down the priority list of those who needed my forgiveness.

(originally posted January 26, 2012)


I want to pause in my story to address the issue of forgiveness, as that's been a hot topic. But first I want to acknowledge Solomon Singer's first comment from yesterday (posting as "Sunshine"). He was right on the money with everything he said, but something in particular struck such a chord with me.

"It is because when someone treats another human being as a thing, as something less than, it paves the way for all other atrocities, and the only thing we can do to stop it, is to remove that person from positions where they can do harm."

I'd never really thought about it that way, that my sister's ex-husband treated me as a "thing", as something "less than". But that's exactly what happened. And it explains why for the next 15-20 years of my life, I thought of myself as less than. I required nothing from people in regards to how they treated me, even within my own family. I let people say horrible things to me, I said nothing when people shunned me, I let people physically assault me, and never fought back. I tried to end my life, I kept putting myself in damaging relationships, went through a period of promiscuity, I even ended up almost working at a strip club. Those are behaviors of someone who thinks of themselves as "less than". You'd never think that a girl with an IQ as high as mine would ever find herself in these situations, but it proves how being treated as a "thing" when you're a child can damage you to such a degree that even your own brainpower can't overcome it....

Anyway. I can't say I've forgiven my ex-brother-in-law. I think that some in my family have, and others haven't. I don't feel guilty that I haven't forgiven him, everyone has a different process and timeline. Maybe I'll never get there. Maybe I'll be there tomorrow.

Would it help my process if my abuser ever actually asked ME for forgiveness, and not just my father? If he were living his life in a way that showed he was truly repentant? Who knows. But it would be something I'd consider. His 30 second confession to a room full of my shocked family and my scared 14 year old self isn't an apology. It's easy to confess to people/children who don't even realize what it was you did. Much harder to apologize to someone who's realized how horrible your crime was. It's easy to confess to my father, who has a heart bigger than the Milky Way and doesn't want to believe men can commit violent acts. Much harder to apologize to the woman who is no longer the scared teenager and knows EXACTLY what you did to her and her psyche.

One of my nieces had a great comparison. When an addict goes to AA, Step 9 is making amends. The AA process realizes that not only is it important for the person hurt to hear an apology, it's important for the person who caused the hurt to say that to those they hurt, and mean it. If my ex-brother-in-law had ever come to me when I was an adult and begged for my forgiveness, acknowledging the hideous nature of his crime, showing me the steps he had taken to get help for his disorder...who knows how my process would have changed in light of that knowledge.

In my opinion, a truly repentant man would have taken it upon himself to tell his children about his crime of his own volition and not pawn off that horrible task to his wife. A truly repentant man would want to show his daughters that he believes this kind of crime is atrocious, and would turn himself in so they would see what should happen to someone who does this to a child. If my abuser turned himself in today, that might be an act I'd consider as repentant.

Will him getting arrested and serving time inspire me to forgive him? I don't know. But again, forgiveness and consequence are separate. Apples and oranges. You can be forgiven, but that doesn't negate the consequences of the crime you committed. When you drive drunk and kill someone, even if you never touch another drop of liquor again and live your life as a teetotaler, you still have to pay the consequences for killing someone when you DID drink and drive.

If I had ever received as an adult, or even received now, an apology from my ex-brother-in-law, who knows what that might inspire in me. I am a forgiving person more often than not. I've forgiven others in my family in the past and continue to do so today.

Should I be able to forgive him even if he isn't repentant? Ah, utopia. I'm not there yet. I only just realized how badly he hurt me a minute ago, comparatively speaking. You can't forgive what you don't even know. Now that I know the gravity of what he did to me, I have to start this process all over again.

But like I said yesterday, forgiveness and physical proximity are not an if-then statement. My parents could have forgiven Floyd but still moved me across the country so I'd never have to see him again. My brothers could have forgiven Floyd but then ended their personal relationship with him. My sister could have forgiven him but then divorced him. Hindsight is 20/20 of course, and some in my family are realizing this. Hopefully our hindsight will improve another family's present vision...

Again, I want to thank everyone here and on Facebook and Twitter for your comments and emails. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. Some have made me laugh out loud, some have made me cry silently. Some have made me cringe and some have made me cheer. I rolled my eyes at some and did a little dance at others. But every last one has been beautiful. After 25 years of never talking about it, the discussions that are breaking out all over the place make me almost unbearably happy. So please keep them coming! They are inspiring people and challenging people left and right.

(Also, keep in mind that I'm writing my story in manageable bits and pieces. There is so much more than what you're learned so far. God has been working and continues to work in my family. I love all of them and trust that God will heal us all in His time.)

My Childhood Sexual Abuse Story, Part 3

The idea of consequences being proportionate to the grievance committed has been so monumental to me when looking back at my situation. The consequences my abuser had to pay were so minute, compared to the grievance committed. He had to confess to the family what he'd done in whatever vague fashion HE CHOSE, make some vague reference to a sexual sin of some non-criminal sort to the church congregation, say 5 Hail Marys, click his heels 3 times and call it a day. It's no surprise my 14 year old self decided what happened to her must not have been that big of a deal. When the adults' reactions are basically "meh...", the non-confrontational obedient child is going to assume that must be the proper reaction.

Something else I didn't mention in the original post, as it relates to these family meetings; something that disgusts and infuriates me to this day...in these meetings, there were tears shed. So many tears. But not by the person you'd assume. The 14 year old girl who'd spent two years living in a nightmare shed NOT ONE TEAR in these meetings. I'll give you one guess who the blubbering fool was. Take your time. 

That's right. My abuser, my ex-brother-in-law. HE sat next to my sister and in front of my parents and one or both of my brothers and their wives and cried like a big baby. Crocodile tears. Meanwhile I RE.FUSED. to let him see one drop of saline leave my body. I was a statue. Stone-faced. Thinking the whole time, "Wait a damn minute. YOU'RE crying!??! You?!! YOU DON'T GET TO CRY!" and all the while wishing one of the men in the room would GIVE HIM SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT.

So of course, who got all the attention? The squeaky wheel gets the oil, as the saying goes. Poor, poor child molester with his sad, sad tears. Wook at his wittle puppy dog eyes wif da big tears dwipping down. How could anybody punch a face like that??! As I look back, I wonder if I'd cried like a baby and kicked and screamed and threatened to kill myself, if somebody in that room might have really looked at me. Might have wondered why he was crying so hard and I wasn't registering even one emotion. But showing emotion wasn't  part of my personality. It never has been and it never will be. My family knew that about me, and I feel took advantage of that fact. They knew I'd never put up a fuss about it all. Quiet Suzanne will follow along and keep the peace. 

I was glad to do that for the family I loved so fiercely, for 25 years. Until I started realizing the sacrifice I'd made for them was killing me. 

- Interesting tidbit: the professor I mention in this story, who was a Music Theory teacher at West Chester University (for the life of me I can't recall his name) ended up being let go because of inappropriate relationships with students. My mother mentioned seeing the story in the paper a few years later. During the time frame he was harassing me, a girl came up to me and told me he'd done the same to her the semester before, and that there was a female professor in the music department who was keeping a list of names of girls he'd abused. I was mortified this girl was talking about the situation, and blew her off as quickly as possible and never went to see that female professor. Mainly because I felt this man's advances were my fault and I was ashamed. Not surprising I felt that way, looking back now..

My Childhood Sexual Abuse Story, Part 2

*italicized content was written after the lawsuit was settled. non-italicized content is the original blog post from 2012.

This was day 2. An extremely intense day. My nephew's then ex-girlfriend Lindsay decided to voice her opinions on my posting of this story. I'd only met Lindsay a couple of times, at family functions. I didn't really know her at all until she started commenting on my blog. 

People asked me for months why I published Lindsay's comments. My answer has always been I wanted people to see what victims of abuse are up against. When kids or adults tell their family and friends they've been abused, they usually get one of two responses. Either no one wants to talk about it, or everyone wants to find a way to blame the victim. Lindsay is a great example of the latter. Her hateful attitude is in no way unusual, and reading it in real-time was hopefully an eye-opener for everyone.



The comments became very heated that day so again, you may want to keep this post away from children. But feel free to add new comments of your own.

As I think back to the day I went to the police station, two things stick out in my mind. One, I remember so vividly the state trooper who took our statements. She was just a tiny thing, but to me she was as big and strong as Arnold Schwarzenegger. If I were to ever see her again, I'd have to thank her for making me realize I had power over my past. 

I also remember the Victims Support group ladies, who were there to provide comfort in case I was alone, and offered to come back with me while I gave my statement. If I ever saw them again, I'd have to apologize profusely for blowing them off in what was probably not the most gracious manner. I couldn't take the kindness in their eyes, nor their palpable empathy. I knew they knew how I was feeling, and if I'd acknowledged them I might have fallen apart. They were so lovely and accepted my brush-off with grace. I hope they knew my rejection was nothing personal.

My Childhood Sexual Abuse Story, Part 1

On January 23, 2012, I decided to write about my childhood sexual abuse on this blog. My goal was twofold: to release my demons the best way I knew how, through writing, and to share and commune with others out there who may have also been suffering from the lifelong effects of childhood trauma and of keeping such trauma secret.

In October of 2012, my brother Eric and I were jointly sued for defamation, by my ex-brother-in-law who molested me. I removed my posts from this blog in April of 2013, while a settlement was reached. My portion of that case was settled in the fall of 2013, and I am now free to re-post my story. My brother continues to fight for the rights of people to share their memories of abuse, even if those stories involve pillars of the community or good fathers. 

I am going to re-post my story in the way it was originally posted. One post per day, with all of the original comments. I may include updates or interesting new information at the beginning of each post. Please note that most of these posts are not suited for young children, and most likely include triggers for those of you who have been abused. Feel free to add your comments and stories to the ones people posted two years ago. (ps, some of the original comments have had to be edited; apologies to the commenters! The original comments will be typed at the bottom of each post, along with the dates and times when they were originally posted.)

This is a special day for me. Writing my story in a public forum was, to put it mildly, life changing. Having to remove the series of posts I am unbearably proud of, even for a period of time, was just shy of devastating. So today I am relieved to say the little piece of the world wide web I claimed as my group psychiatry couch is being restored. 

Before I get to it, I need to say some things about some people. I'm not saying "thanks", because that would be so ridiculously trite, but I'm naming them because they deserve all the things. All of them.

Eric Mosley, who accepted me so completely I finally felt safe enough to open the door I'd been forcing closed for 25 years. Who believed in my personal path to healing so fully he was ready to do whatever it took to protect my right to continue down that path. And who loved me so intuitively, knowing exactly when I needed him to grab me tightly so I could give up control for a minute, and when I needed him to back off so I could breathe alone in a corner and figure out exactly what it was I wanted. 

Melissa, who transcends the term "best friend" or even "sister"; who saved me from a monster 30 years ago, and walked beside me 25 years later while I saved myself from that same monster. No one knows like she does. No one.

My children, who know nothing of my story yet but who benefit the most from its telling.  

My nieces Bonnie, Brooke, and Bethany. The 2nd generation who lived this history with me but ingested less of the Kool-aid are the perfect people with which to talk it all through. It's an unexpected gift when your sibling's children grow up to be some of your best friends. 

My dance friends, who immediately if not sooner showed me that the old adage "blood is thicker than water" isn't always true. Those who shared their stories of abuse with me are never far from my mind. It's no surprise that so many of the most beautiful dancers are inspired by agony. Art in all of its forms allows us to express what is too painful to say....

My parents, who have weathered this storm with as much grace as anyone could. Admitting to parenting failures can't be much fun, as I'm SURE I will find out someday. 

Richard and Solomon. Dance partners turned best friends. Dancing me through two tumultuous years and numbing my pain with Aqua Net and rhinestones. 

And lastly, my brother Eric Lewis. You can't imagine what it's like when for so long no one in your family "gets it", and then all of a sudden someone gets it so completely they join you on the quest to understand why "it" happened and learn how to keep "it" from happening again. "It" has been another unexpected gift. 

And now we go back to the beginning. January of 2012.
With much love and even more relief,
Suzanne

(originally posted January 23, 2012)

It’s time to set the record straight. These are the facts of my childhood sexual abuse:

When I was 12, in 1986, my sister and her then husband lived in Halstead apartments in West Chester, PA. They had 2 young children at the time. One night I spent the night there. While watching television with ex-brother-in-law that evening, he started tickling me and wrestling with me. I didn’t think anything of it, I was 12 and he was my sister’s husband. That night, I slept on their brown and orange plaid couch in the family room. The apartment was two story, the rest of the family was upstairs in their bedrooms.

Late that night/early the next morning, I woke up and realized my ex-brother-in-law was sitting on the couch next to me. I was laying on my back with my knees up, leaned in towards the high back of the couch. I was wearing a pink and white checked flannel nightgown that had buttons from the neck to the waist. The buttons had all been undone and my ex-brother-in-law had his left hand inside my nightgown on my breast, rubbing it. I kept my eyes closed, pretending to still be asleep. At some point, my ex-brother-in-law removed his hand from inside my nightgown, put his hands on my knees and tried to pull my knees apart, in what I can only assume was an attempt to get to my vagina. I kept my knees pressed tightly together, and in the next moment the upstairs hallway light came on and my sister was at the top of the stairs calling down to her husband. He got up quickly and walked upstairs.

I got out of bed, remember looking at the clock on the VCR and seeing it was 2:15am. Went into the powder room hoping it didn’t really happen, but when I looked in the mirror all the buttons of my gown were undone. I can’t remember if it ever happened in this apartment again, they may have moved shortly after the incident.

The next times that my ex-brother-in-law molested me were in their Downingtown, PA townhouse. At this point I was old enough, 13 and 14 years old, to babysit for my sister. My parents would have me spend the night there when I babysat, so there were plenty of opportunities.

The times that he molested me there he progressed from just rubbing my breasts to pulling his penis out and masturbating while he touched me. While I didn’t know what ejaculating was at 12/13 years old, I remember getting the sense that there was an “end time” to him touching me, because his breathing would get heavier and he would squeeze my breasts harder, pinching my nipples, and then the molestation would stop. He would leave the room and I’d hear him go into the bathroom and turn the shower on.

It happened many times in this townhouse, but there are a few that I remember vividly:

Once he molested me while I was sleeping in the same room as his two young sons, who were around 8 and 5 years old. I remember that one vividly because I thought I was safe that night, having chosen to sleep in his sons’ bedroom.

Once I slept in his daughter’s room, because she had a door that locked. I locked the door, but he still got in. Afterwards I heard him go into the bathroom and run the shower/bath. The next morning as we all ate breakfast he made eye contact with me and said to me over the table, in front of his kids and my sister, “We don’t lock doors in this house”. I remember that time vividly because I had thought I’d be safe with the door locked, and because he had spoken of it in front of everyone.

He would also play “snatch the towel”, where he would come up behind me after I’d taken a shower and was wrapped in a towel, and snatch the towel off of me so that I was standing naked. He did that in front of my sister at least once that I can remember, because she said something to him casually about it, laughing.

To try to avoid the situation, I would try to come up with ways/places to sleep that would protect me. One night I took a bunch of blankets to the basement and wrapped myself up in each one like a burrito, with my arms plastered across my chest.

Another night I got a blanket and a pillow and slept under the dining room table, with all 8 of the chairs pulled in tightly around me.

One night at church, when I was 14, my best friend Melissa (who was 10 years old at the time) and I were hanging out with a bunch of the adults. My ex-brother-in-law and a guy named Mike started chasing Melissa and I around the church, trying to scare us. My ex-brother-in-law caught me and threw me to the ground and started ticking me. I started to get very embarrassed because Melissa and Mike were both standing there, and my ex-brother-in-law was stealthily touching me right in front of them. I was screaming at him to stop, and Mike must have gotten uncomfortable because he yelled at my ex-brother-in-law to stop.

The two men walked away and I started getting very upset and ended up telling Melissa about the abuse. I told her not to tell anyone. She kept my secret for 2 weeks, and then told her parents everything. They in turn told my parents. My father confronted my ex-brother-in-law, who ended up confessing.

This story has been for all intents and purposes a secret for 25 years. There were no consequences for him for these actions. I am no longer keeping the details of this story, nor the identity of the pedophile who molested me, a secret .  

Now what?



(Please feel free to leave comments, advice, your own memories from this time if you knew of this story back then...if you were part of FBC Newtown Square and you have memories from this time, please comment. All feedback is welcome.)