[Adventures] in Talking About Abuse

[TRIGGER WARNING: abuse, rape, stalking]

[Adventure 111]

I recently took part in a book club on the Book of Forgiving by Desmond Tutu and Mpho Tutu. There were exercises in the book that had us recall things that happened in our past for which we needed to forgive someone.

I had been on a journey of forgiveness years ago and reading this book and this directive in particular brought up a lot of memories and feelings - and also helped me realize just how far I had come on my path to forgiveness.

I went through a lot in my late teens - stalking, rape, and what I can only describe as torture at the hands of someone I'd once considered a friend. I knew his home life situation. I knew of the abuse he suffered at the hands of his parents and older brother. I hated him for what he did to me. But at the same time I understood what he was a product of. 

I carried the weight of my hatred and confusion for years. It affected every day of my life - my thought processes, my anxiety, my interactions with others. I never felt safe. I never felt whole. 

Then I came across a story about a woman who not only forgave her child's murderer, but befriended him. She saw past the labels of gang banger and killer to see the broken human being. She recognized her own brokenness, her own humanity, and found forgiveness to be the only path forward for them both. Then I came across another article. And a news story. More and more, forgiveness was the topic that was crossing my path in one form or another. A poem. A sermon. A song on the radio. I knew I had work to do.

I forgave. And then I got mad and wanted to take it back. And I forgave again and again and again. It's often not an all at once thing, forgiveness. It's a process of letting go. I found that forgiving myself was part of the process as well - forgiving myself for not fighting back; for fighting back and making things worse; for not telling anyone; for letting the anger and hate I was carrying affect others in my life. 

Forgiving doesn't make what he did to me any less heinous. But it does free me to love fully, to trust, to live my life more fully.

And talking about my abuse rids me of the fear once trapped in the memories. It allows me to connect with others who have survived similar things. It shows me just how strong and resilient we all are when faced with the unthinkable. It frees me.