Do you want to know what happened when I shared my secret for the first time? Listen and find out!
About this episode: This is the ninth in a series of episodes that are just the start of where I plan to take this podcast. These initial episodes will give you a backstory on the journey I went through to recover from childhood sexual abuse at the age of twelve. The purpose of this backstory is to help you see how trauma affected my life and art, and to learn some of the things I did to begin healing.
I do not give any graphic details of the events.
Choosing a Therapist
I started with who was in my insurance network. I looked at their website to find someone I might connect with. So I found this therapist with a nature themed website, said they took a holistic approach to therapy, and looked kind of hippy. And that’s who I chose to go see.
Before the first appointment, I thought about what I wanted to talk about and what I wanted to get help with. I was struggling with using drugs as a way to cope and not being able to quit. So I thought maybe I was incapable of coping in a healthy way. What I wanted to know was if I had permanently damaged my brain from all the drugs I did over the years, and if I’d ever be able to cope with life without them.
I also thought about the abuse. I convinced myself that we didn’t need to go that far back in my life. If we just started around ages 13 or 14, we would have plenty of material to last us for years. So we wouldn’t have to talk about it.
I think that helped me start therapy. Because I convinced myself that my secret was still safe, and I could get the help I needed because the problem came later.
Where’s my Answer?
I spent the entire first appointment telling her about my full drug history. I started at 13 when I started drinking in 8th grade. Next, I gave details of all the things I experimented with in high school. But I spent most of the time talking about becoming a mom at 18 and all the years of smoking weed.
Then I asked the big question. Will I ever be able to cope with life without drugs?
She answered my question with a bunch of other questions. In other words, I never really got an answer. She didn’t give me a plan for how I could cope like I wanted. Instead, she wanted to know about my life before I started drinking. And I’m thinking, “What’s going on here? Why is she doing this? We don’t need to talk about that!”
We didn’t get very far before time was up. I left confused about what therapy was really going to do for me. Why didn’t she just give me a solution to my problem? I didn’t understand why she was going backward into my life instead of helping me move forward and teaching me how to cope.
So Many Questions
So in my second appointment, she continued asking questions about my childhood. I don’t remember all the questions, but she had a lot of them. The whole time I’m answering the questions, still confused about why she was asking them.
But then through her questions, I told her about being on a swim team. I shared how I really loved it, was pretty good at it, and then quit. And then she went back to ask about my drinking at 13. (Which happened to be just after the abuse). She had a lot of questions around this time. Something wasn’t adding up for her.
I left thinking, “She’s just going to keep asking questions about my childhood. This isn’t going to stop!”
Which made me realize, I was going to have to tell her about the abuse. She wasn’t forcing me to answer questions. But if I was going to be honest (which I wanted to be) and if I really wanted to get help (which I did), then I’d have to talk about it.
I walked into the third appointment ready to tell her about the abuse.
What Now?
I didn’t wait for her to ask questions, I just started talking. I told her that I was sexually abused when I was 12 years old over a several month period. And that I had never told anyone until that very moment.
So let me tell you what didn’t happen. I didn’t feel a big weight lifted off my shoulders. I didn’t cry, get angry, or feel relieved. I’m not sure what I felt. I just know when I told her I was staring straight at her. Usually I would look at her artwork, plants, and little dollhouse in the corner when I talked. But now it was like the rest of the room disappeared.
I think the whole time I was just like, Now what? What’s going to happen now that I told this story? I had kept it a secret for so long. I didn’t know what it meant that it was out.
My Therapist’s Reaction
I remember her being very compassionate. I could see the empathy in her face. She said how sorry she was and assured me it wasn’t my fault. She also left a lot of space and quiet between us. I felt very cared for in that moment. She believed me.
The only other thing I remember is coming home and going straight to bed. My appointments were in the morning, so I was home by 11:00am. I remember thinking, “how can I be this tired and it’s not even noon?!” Apparently, it was so emotionally exhausting that it made me physically tired.
My Husband’s Reaction
Shortly after that appointment, my husband and I were talking on our back patio. It was just a regular conversation. He said something that was the perfect open door for me to tell him about the abuse. It was almost too perfect. It was weird. I assumed I was going to have to plan out a special time to talk, make sure the kids were occupied, and we had privacy. Instead, it just came out. And unlike how it was for me, so did his emotions.
Three things happened when I told him. First, things clicked. He was able to understand why I behaved certain ways that he didn’t before. Suddenly, he knew me on a deeper level. Another thing that happened was he felt horrible. He also had a lot of empathy for me. It broke his heart that I went through what I did. He also got really angry. Like, “wanting vengeance” kind of anger. It was so different than how I reacted when I told the story.
The Healing has Begun
I still didn’t know how to feel. I didn’t know what would happen now that this secret I kept for 23 years was out. Was anything going to change? I had more questions than answers. And this went on for a while. So I kept going to therapy. She helped me unravel some of the layers that had accumulated over all these years and encouraged me to be kind to myself and take care of myself. She knew how hard the work was.
This is the beginning of my healing. Until I told my story, I was just dealing with symptoms. The longer it went, the more depressed I got. So even though I couldn’t see the results right away, the true healing didn’t begin until I took this first step.
Thank you so much for listening to this part of my story. It’s so important that we can share and be known and seen. Especially in our darkest times.
What happened when you told your story for the first time?
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