March 20, 2009
Spring Break
I'll be gone for about five days during my son's Spring Break. Instead of some sandy beach, we're going to Minnesota to visit some friends. While I'm there I'm going to get to have lunch with Marcella Chester. Because I donated a little bit of cash to help her get to the 2009 Women Action and Media (WAM) conference, she's going to give me a copy of her book and maybe we'll talk some about blogging, raising awareness, etc. Marcella is the founder of The Blog Carnival Against Sexual Violence and runs the blog, Abyss2Hope. She's really the person responsible for getting me into blog carnivals in the first place and motivated me to found The Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse. I guess you could call her a blogging mentor for me. I'm excited to meet her!
Labels: advocacy, awareness, Blog Against Sexual Violence, Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse, blog carnivals, child abuse, sexual violence
April 03, 2008
Blog Against Sexual Violence: The Link to Child Sexual Abuse
My body knew it before my mind could accept it. Long before I retrieved repressed memories of childhood sexual abuse, my body knew all about it. My body knew I was a victim. My rapist knew it, too.
Today is Blog Against Sexual Violence Day. I'm under the weather, but I did not want to miss posting on this important, awareness-raising day. I usually spend most of my time raising awareness about child abuse, and more specifically, child sexual abuse. I'm the founder of, and continue to maintain, The Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse, which travels around the blogosphere and will be stopping at Beautiful Dreamer's blog this month. (Why don't you join us?)
I firmly believe that preventing child sexual abuse goes hand-in-hand in preventing all forms of sexual violence, and vice versa. I feel these forms of abuse and violence are intertwined in a most grotesque way.
I certainly am convinced that my childhood sexual abuse set me up for the acquaintance rape I experienced in college. This is part of my story. Please be careful when reading, as it may be disturbing and/or triggering.
Did any of you have a "big brother" in college? I'm not talking about The Big Brothers Big Sisters Youth Mentoring Program. This was something that was a collaboration between my college sorority and a campus fraternity. When I was a sorority pledge, I got "set up" with this fraternity guy who was supposed to be a supportive "big brother" figure.
I got to know my "big brother" fairly well. I trusted him and considered him a friend.
We attended his fraternity's spring formal one year “just as friends.” When my “friend” wanted to have sex after the dance, I broke down in tears and explained that I couldn't participate because I was still so heart-broken over a recent breakup. I did not have the assertiveness back then to say no, just because I didn't want to have sex. I felt compelled to come up with some excuse and make the guy feel sorry for me. I guess, because he knew my old boyfriend, he pretended to be understanding at the time.
Later, it was a different story. There was a party at the fraternity house of my “friend.” At one point, we went into his room. We’d been in there many times and I was not afraid or suspecting of anything.
We were sitting on his bed talking when suddenly he was on top of me. I said no, cried and tried to turn away. But, he pinned my arms down. I have always felt guilty because I did not scream out or struggle very hard. I think my CSA groomed me to stay quiet and realize that struggling was futile. Some days after the party, when I told my sister about the incident, she was the one who pointed out that my arms had been pinned down and I had, indeed, been raped.
I believe that this collegiate predator could easily see that I had "victim" stamped all over me. I also am sure that, even if my mind wasn't conscious of it, my body knew quite well that fight or flight was not possible--freezing was the only way to survive. (My incest experience included rape, also with my arms pinned.) I don't have any conscious memory of this part of the ordeal, but I'm sure--as dissociative as I now know myself to be--I moved as if in a trance when it was over. I'm certain that I silently pulled my pants back up, pulled myself back together as best I could, and simply walked out his door. I never spoke to this young man again.
I'm sure that he was sure I would never report the rape.
I now know that this period of my life was not nearly as damaging and tortuous as my childhood. Yet it was quite traumatic for me. During this time I became pregnant. I came very close to telling my old boyfriend of my condition. I had him on the phone once but couldn’t reveal my secret. I did not know who the father of the child was. I didn’t tell my ex because I still loved him (even if he didn't love me) and I didn’t want to trap him with a child who may not have been his. I decided to get an abortion instead. This added to my trauma.
Indeed, I never did report the rape. I didn’t speak of it again for another decade.
I think I then made the subconscious decision to stick like glue to any man who would finally admit to loving me. That man became my first husband. He was only physically abusive toward me once. It was when we were separated, before our divorce. In a fit of anger, he grabbed me by the arm and threw me to the floor.
During our brief marriage, my mate did many odd things that made me uncomfortable. What drove me crazy was his habit of following me around our small apartment. He often spied on me while I was in the shower. One time, I was coming out of the bathroom after a shower wearing only a towel. I was ambushed by my ex who jumped out at me and snatched my towel away. He pushed me onto the bed and snapped a Polaroid picture of me sprawled there naked with a deer-in-the-headlights expression on my face.
During my young adult years following college, my self-esteem was critically low. Yet, by the time of my divorce, something started to shift in my mind. A tiny spark of self-confidence told me I had rights and deserved better. I never used the term “abuse,” however. Although I was taking steps to that effect, I never thought or stated, “Nobody will ever abuse me again.”
One of those essential steps was quitting my first big job that I thought was leading to a successful career. I had been working at an advertising agency where one of the higher-ups sexually harassed me time and again. I did not sleep my way to the top, but worked hard and got promoted there three times. Despite the promotions and the agency paying my way toward a Master’s degree, I decided to leave.
Maybe I just got fed up; within a year, I quit my job in the sexual harassment environment and got divorced. I never did finish my Master’s, but I never allowed anyone to ever abuse me again, either.
My greatest wish is for all children to grow up with a healthy sense of self-esteem and appropriate boundaries. No one should have to wait until their 20's 30's or 40's--after rape, abortion, sexual harassment and/or an abusive spouse--to decide they don't deserve sexual abuse. No one should feel they must silently endure rape, sexual harassment, or sexual abuse of any kind from anyone--not a boss, a "friend" or a spouse--no one!
Let us never let up on our determination to spread awareness about all forms of sexual violence. Let us never give up on our goal of advocacy for survivors and abuse prevention. Let us all keep up the good fight! Onward, brave warriors all!
Today is Blog Against Sexual Violence Day. I'm under the weather, but I did not want to miss posting on this important, awareness-raising day. I usually spend most of my time raising awareness about child abuse, and more specifically, child sexual abuse. I'm the founder of, and continue to maintain, The Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse, which travels around the blogosphere and will be stopping at Beautiful Dreamer's blog this month. (Why don't you join us?)
I firmly believe that preventing child sexual abuse goes hand-in-hand in preventing all forms of sexual violence, and vice versa. I feel these forms of abuse and violence are intertwined in a most grotesque way.
I certainly am convinced that my childhood sexual abuse set me up for the acquaintance rape I experienced in college. This is part of my story. Please be careful when reading, as it may be disturbing and/or triggering.
Did any of you have a "big brother" in college? I'm not talking about The Big Brothers Big Sisters Youth Mentoring Program. This was something that was a collaboration between my college sorority and a campus fraternity. When I was a sorority pledge, I got "set up" with this fraternity guy who was supposed to be a supportive "big brother" figure.
I got to know my "big brother" fairly well. I trusted him and considered him a friend.
We attended his fraternity's spring formal one year “just as friends.” When my “friend” wanted to have sex after the dance, I broke down in tears and explained that I couldn't participate because I was still so heart-broken over a recent breakup. I did not have the assertiveness back then to say no, just because I didn't want to have sex. I felt compelled to come up with some excuse and make the guy feel sorry for me. I guess, because he knew my old boyfriend, he pretended to be understanding at the time.
Later, it was a different story. There was a party at the fraternity house of my “friend.” At one point, we went into his room. We’d been in there many times and I was not afraid or suspecting of anything.
We were sitting on his bed talking when suddenly he was on top of me. I said no, cried and tried to turn away. But, he pinned my arms down. I have always felt guilty because I did not scream out or struggle very hard. I think my CSA groomed me to stay quiet and realize that struggling was futile. Some days after the party, when I told my sister about the incident, she was the one who pointed out that my arms had been pinned down and I had, indeed, been raped.
I believe that this collegiate predator could easily see that I had "victim" stamped all over me. I also am sure that, even if my mind wasn't conscious of it, my body knew quite well that fight or flight was not possible--freezing was the only way to survive. (My incest experience included rape, also with my arms pinned.) I don't have any conscious memory of this part of the ordeal, but I'm sure--as dissociative as I now know myself to be--I moved as if in a trance when it was over. I'm certain that I silently pulled my pants back up, pulled myself back together as best I could, and simply walked out his door. I never spoke to this young man again.
I'm sure that he was sure I would never report the rape.
I now know that this period of my life was not nearly as damaging and tortuous as my childhood. Yet it was quite traumatic for me. During this time I became pregnant. I came very close to telling my old boyfriend of my condition. I had him on the phone once but couldn’t reveal my secret. I did not know who the father of the child was. I didn’t tell my ex because I still loved him (even if he didn't love me) and I didn’t want to trap him with a child who may not have been his. I decided to get an abortion instead. This added to my trauma.
Indeed, I never did report the rape. I didn’t speak of it again for another decade.
I think I then made the subconscious decision to stick like glue to any man who would finally admit to loving me. That man became my first husband. He was only physically abusive toward me once. It was when we were separated, before our divorce. In a fit of anger, he grabbed me by the arm and threw me to the floor.
During our brief marriage, my mate did many odd things that made me uncomfortable. What drove me crazy was his habit of following me around our small apartment. He often spied on me while I was in the shower. One time, I was coming out of the bathroom after a shower wearing only a towel. I was ambushed by my ex who jumped out at me and snatched my towel away. He pushed me onto the bed and snapped a Polaroid picture of me sprawled there naked with a deer-in-the-headlights expression on my face.
During my young adult years following college, my self-esteem was critically low. Yet, by the time of my divorce, something started to shift in my mind. A tiny spark of self-confidence told me I had rights and deserved better. I never used the term “abuse,” however. Although I was taking steps to that effect, I never thought or stated, “Nobody will ever abuse me again.”
One of those essential steps was quitting my first big job that I thought was leading to a successful career. I had been working at an advertising agency where one of the higher-ups sexually harassed me time and again. I did not sleep my way to the top, but worked hard and got promoted there three times. Despite the promotions and the agency paying my way toward a Master’s degree, I decided to leave.
Maybe I just got fed up; within a year, I quit my job in the sexual harassment environment and got divorced. I never did finish my Master’s, but I never allowed anyone to ever abuse me again, either.
My greatest wish is for all children to grow up with a healthy sense of self-esteem and appropriate boundaries. No one should have to wait until their 20's 30's or 40's--after rape, abortion, sexual harassment and/or an abusive spouse--to decide they don't deserve sexual abuse. No one should feel they must silently endure rape, sexual harassment, or sexual abuse of any kind from anyone--not a boss, a "friend" or a spouse--no one!
Let us never let up on our determination to spread awareness about all forms of sexual violence. Let us never give up on our goal of advocacy for survivors and abuse prevention. Let us all keep up the good fight! Onward, brave warriors all!
Labels: acquaintance rape, Blog Against Sexual Violence, child abuse prevention, childhood sexual abuse, freeze response, rape, sexual harassment, spousal sexual abuse, victims
July 12, 2006
The Many Faces of Abuse
I'm writing this post for Marcella's Abyss2Hope Blog Carnival Against Sexual Violence. She wanted to get some articles that involve emotional and verbal abuse.
There was no talking (except for some brief begging from me) during my college rape. But, the abuse that I suffered as a child--sexual, physical and what I call spiritual--cannot be separated from the emotional and verbal abuse that went along with it.
My father could be described as many things, one being a rage addict. He would fly into out-of-control rages that always included verbal abuse toward anyone who happened to be in his way at the time. Some of his favorite terms to use on me were, "idiot," and "stupid moron." I still play these tapes in my mind when I hit a low spot. My work continues for improving my self-esteem and eliminating those terms from my self-talk vocabulary.
When I was growing up, my father was an avid tennis player. He prided himself on being able to easily defeat tennis opponents who were half his age. At one point, he decided that he was going to give his three young children tennis lessons. I remember that we were given these wooden "rackets" to use. I remember them looking homemade--my father may have crafted them himself. They looked like something one would use to play a giant game of ping pong.
I'll never forget my father's lack of patience and annoyance when attempting to teach us tennis. One of his favorite coaching techniques was to come up right behind me and yell in my ear, "What are you, an idiot?!"
He was also verbally abusive during the sexual abuse, of course. I think, however, that my mother's verbal and emotional abuse following sexual assaults was much more damaging to me. The betrayal, abandonment and rejection from my mother is still difficult for me to deal with. On numerous occasions, my mother would clean me up after my father had his way with me. I remember lying on the little bath rug in the middle of the bathroom floor while my mother dabbed and wiped.
The message was clear from her words to me during these clean-up sessions. It was a message of judgment and damnation and it was almost impossible for me to bear. My mother called me a "bad, dirty, evil girl." Then she would lament about how she seriously doubted that even God could forgive such a girl as me. She told me I would have to pray diligently to Jesus to intervene on my behalf. Perhaps, if I asked Jesus into my heart and prayed and prayed for his forgiveness and intervention, I would be able to avoid the fires of hell.
One of my mother's top priorities was to see to it that her children were raised in a strict Christian religious upbringing. I remember a lot of talk about the concept of original sin in these early teachings. Because I believed what I was told about original sin, I was sure that I was just born bad and evil. I was convinced that I deserved everything that both of my parents dished out with their abuse of me. I knew to my core that I deserved what I got and I would most likely never be forgiven for it.
This is the verbal abuse that leads to emotional damage of what I call spiritual abuse. I believe that it suited the interests of both of my parents to break my spirit. They attempted soul murder.
I no longer believe in hell. This spiritual shift has provided enormous relief for me. I now believe in a loving, compassionate and accepting God--not one who condemns tiny children to burn for eternity. The tapes that play "stupid moron" in my head have lost quite a bit of their potency. Yet, my self-esteem is still a work in progress.
Don't forget: The deadline for the second edition of our Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse is Monday, July 17, 2006. You can browse the carnivals in alpha order at www.blogcarnival.com or go directly to the submission form here.
***Trigger Warning: Be careful and stay safe while reading the following material.***
There was no talking (except for some brief begging from me) during my college rape. But, the abuse that I suffered as a child--sexual, physical and what I call spiritual--cannot be separated from the emotional and verbal abuse that went along with it.
My father could be described as many things, one being a rage addict. He would fly into out-of-control rages that always included verbal abuse toward anyone who happened to be in his way at the time. Some of his favorite terms to use on me were, "idiot," and "stupid moron." I still play these tapes in my mind when I hit a low spot. My work continues for improving my self-esteem and eliminating those terms from my self-talk vocabulary.
When I was growing up, my father was an avid tennis player. He prided himself on being able to easily defeat tennis opponents who were half his age. At one point, he decided that he was going to give his three young children tennis lessons. I remember that we were given these wooden "rackets" to use. I remember them looking homemade--my father may have crafted them himself. They looked like something one would use to play a giant game of ping pong.
I'll never forget my father's lack of patience and annoyance when attempting to teach us tennis. One of his favorite coaching techniques was to come up right behind me and yell in my ear, "What are you, an idiot?!"
He was also verbally abusive during the sexual abuse, of course. I think, however, that my mother's verbal and emotional abuse following sexual assaults was much more damaging to me. The betrayal, abandonment and rejection from my mother is still difficult for me to deal with. On numerous occasions, my mother would clean me up after my father had his way with me. I remember lying on the little bath rug in the middle of the bathroom floor while my mother dabbed and wiped.
The message was clear from her words to me during these clean-up sessions. It was a message of judgment and damnation and it was almost impossible for me to bear. My mother called me a "bad, dirty, evil girl." Then she would lament about how she seriously doubted that even God could forgive such a girl as me. She told me I would have to pray diligently to Jesus to intervene on my behalf. Perhaps, if I asked Jesus into my heart and prayed and prayed for his forgiveness and intervention, I would be able to avoid the fires of hell.
One of my mother's top priorities was to see to it that her children were raised in a strict Christian religious upbringing. I remember a lot of talk about the concept of original sin in these early teachings. Because I believed what I was told about original sin, I was sure that I was just born bad and evil. I was convinced that I deserved everything that both of my parents dished out with their abuse of me. I knew to my core that I deserved what I got and I would most likely never be forgiven for it.
This is the verbal abuse that leads to emotional damage of what I call spiritual abuse. I believe that it suited the interests of both of my parents to break my spirit. They attempted soul murder.
I no longer believe in hell. This spiritual shift has provided enormous relief for me. I now believe in a loving, compassionate and accepting God--not one who condemns tiny children to burn for eternity. The tapes that play "stupid moron" in my head have lost quite a bit of their potency. Yet, my self-esteem is still a work in progress.
Don't forget: The deadline for the second edition of our Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse is Monday, July 17, 2006. You can browse the carnivals in alpha order at www.blogcarnival.com or go directly to the submission form here.
Labels: abandonment, awareness, betrayal, Blog Against Sexual Violence, broken, child abuse, rejection, self-esteem, self-forgiveness
June 01, 2006
Carnival Against Sexual Violence
I feel like such a cyber virgin sometimes. My blogger friend, Marcella, has just introduced me to the world of blog carnivals. Check out the Blog Carnival website at www.blogcarnival.com. I had never heard of these before two weeks ago. It's where a bunch of links go up to posts that have the same flavor, cause, etc.
Marcella, who runs the Abyss2Hope blog, has organized the Carnival Against Sexual Violence, which just went up today. My poem post, Take a Stand, Raise Your Hand, is part of this carnival. I'm honored that Marcella wanted me to be a part of this awareness-raising cyber event.
Go to the Abyss2Hope blog to view all the carnival blogs against sexual violence. There are links to some very courageous and informational carnival posts there. They all relate to sexual violence and include personal stories, creative expression, posts about recovery and more. I also urge you to go to Blog Carnival and look around at the various carnivals to browse: here.
I really feel like I'm part of a vital and vibrant community! Don't you?
Hey, what would you think of being part of a blog carnival? I'm thinking of organizing my own this summer. I would want to do an awareness-raising "cause carnival" as well. Maybe a "Carnival to Stop Child Abuse," or "Carnival to Break the Cycle," or "Carnival to End Abuse," or "Carnival to Stop the Silence" would be useful. I'm leaning toward child advocacy in particular. What do you all think?
Marcella, who runs the Abyss2Hope blog, has organized the Carnival Against Sexual Violence, which just went up today. My poem post, Take a Stand, Raise Your Hand, is part of this carnival. I'm honored that Marcella wanted me to be a part of this awareness-raising cyber event.
Go to the Abyss2Hope blog to view all the carnival blogs against sexual violence. There are links to some very courageous and informational carnival posts there. They all relate to sexual violence and include personal stories, creative expression, posts about recovery and more. I also urge you to go to Blog Carnival and look around at the various carnivals to browse: here.
I really feel like I'm part of a vital and vibrant community! Don't you?
Hey, what would you think of being part of a blog carnival? I'm thinking of organizing my own this summer. I would want to do an awareness-raising "cause carnival" as well. Maybe a "Carnival to Stop Child Abuse," or "Carnival to Break the Cycle," or "Carnival to End Abuse," or "Carnival to Stop the Silence" would be useful. I'm leaning toward child advocacy in particular. What do you all think?
Labels: advocacy, awareness, Blog Against Sexual Violence, blog carnivals, child abuse, child abuse prevention, links, poem, Poetry
April 06, 2006
A Day to End Sexual Violence
Still flailing around in the comment twilight zone. Sorry to all my fellow Blogger blog writers who I've tried to post comments on and failed (I haven't forgotten you!). Does anyone have any experience with or knowledge of Haloscan for comments? Any info would be greatly appreciated! Well, still in the meantime, I like to post whatever awareness-raising stuff I can so, here's some more Sexual Assault Awareness Month info.
Yes, April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month. And today is "A Day To End Sexual Violence." Find out more about it at this link at the National Sexual Violence Resource Center website.
Yes, April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month. And today is "A Day To End Sexual Violence." Find out more about it at this link at the National Sexual Violence Resource Center website.
Labels: assault, awareness, Blog Against Sexual Violence, rape, sexual violence
