(Here is the next installment of a series of the Top 11 things I have learned while healing from CSEC. Yes, eschewing 10 for 11 is an overt Spinal Tap reference. “These go to 11” is the exact volume at which I intend to live my life.) These reflections seek to answer that question of how I survived, and also to provide some insight on common themes that still run through the dynamics of CSEC. My experiences as a survivor and as a social scientist can never be disconnected. This is who I am.
Healing requires a lot of space, time, and rest. The day-in and day-out grind of building a healthy life is tremendously hard and profoundly exhausting. I felt like my entire body had been pulled through a pinhole after attending some of my first Al-Anon meetings. I was finally comprehending how much my family had told me that the sexual abuse and exploitation I had endured was my fault. My brain was, literally, re-wiring itself as I healed from this torment.
Violence and violation felt normal because that is all I knew while growing up. Conversely, peace and support initially felt suspicious and foreign as I immersed myself in recovering from the damage my family had inflicted. But each day I inched away from the dysfunction and chaos, and closer to my “new normal” of stability. This journey was slow, but I am so glad I endured.
Being patient with the practice of becoming is essential, though, while learning a new way to be. Healing is a one-step-forward and two-steps-back process. Making mistakes is unavoidable. We cannot realize who we are in this world without experiencing who we are not. Granted, these lessons can be humiliating; however, they are necessary as we become our authentic selves.
So, sometimes, it’s not only okay, but necessary, to keep the covers over your head and heal up. Sustainable change takes time and courage, as well as quiet and regeneration. One step (and nap) at a time.
(Stay tuned through the winter for the remainder of the countdown to #1.)
Also in this series: