I am a survivor of child abuse.
I know I usually write something uplifting in this blog, but over the last few days I was forced to confront a situation that made me think back to a time, I do not want to recall. You see, my abuser has passed last year, and now his enabler decides that she needs me in her time of sickness. I am supposed to be the good little daughter, whom stands by her side.
But I am not that.
I feel like screaming into the empty space around me, screaming at her how dare she asks for me to help her? Where was she when I needed her? Where was her protection, the fearlessness that I feel when I look at my children, the willingness to die for them, if anyone would dare to do them harm?
Guilt – is a weapon that is used by many abusers and their enablers to remain in control. Because that is what abuse is about, control, a need to show power over someone that is younger and vonurable. Guilting the victim into doing what they need them to do, to satisfy their needs. In their mind it is always about them.
What she does not count on are two things:
I am no longer a child and I am no longer a victim.
I am a survivor, a mother, a successful business woman, a writer, a motivator, a healer, a wife, and a daughter-in-law. I am free and I am stronger because of what I survived.
To this day, my husband, the champion of my life, my rescuer, and constant believer in me, does not know how much I actually went through. He will never know. I will never tell. And the details do no longer matter. Because they have lost its power.
So, why am I writing this? Because I feel the need for closure, a public statement of saying Goodbye to a family I no longer can have in my life, and a turn toward those who need me instead. It is a good bye to a woman who instead of protecting me, was jealous of the attention “her” man gave me. Not an attention any little girl wants.
Forgiving is not about letting the abusers and their helpers win, it is about acknowledging what happened, saying your piece and moving on, away, without anymore ties to that past. It is allowing yourself and them to move on, without each other, without any more power exchange.
Instead of screaming, I am letting go, I am allowing her to find her piece, but not with me, without me. I can live with my choice. She needs to learn to live with hers. And die with it.