"It's Not You, It's Me."

(This post is from Roger Mann.)

​"It’s not you, it’s me."

I know, it’s an old break-up line. That said, it’s one that has gone through my mind over the years in one form or another concerning my childhood abuse. The form it usually takes is, "Was there something about me?"

In my early years as a kid, I didn’t really articulate it like that. There was a feeling inside me that something about me screamed, "Play with me. I’m okay with it." I thought maybe it was the way I looked, or maybe the way I acted or looked at other people. I remember even as a young kid always looking at faces to see how they were looking at me. And every once in a while, there was someone with "the look" that silently signaled something that made me uncomfortable.

I can’t really explain it. It was just a look, along with a feeling I would get that either made me want to hide or later on look back knowingly. It’s said that abusers and victims sometimes seem drawn to each other unconsciously. That may be true. It’s as good an explanation as any, I guess.

Is there something in the face or the eyes that somehow notifies those who know how and where to look that you’re a victim? Even at my age, I find myself going out of my way to project self-assurance and anything else that would not identify me as weak, needy, or victimized. Maybe I overcompensate at times, and that too could be a signal if I’m not careful. It’s an armor I need to wear because it’s not just sexual predators that look for it. I’ve come to realize it’s also people who are selling things.

I know because I have a house full of stuff because my armor slipped and someone saw "prey" written all over me. I really hate that. Another legacy, in my opinion, of childhood victimization.

Setting Boundaries

As kids many of us had no boundaries. We were there for others to take advantage of. We didn’t know to refuse. Our lack of boundaries often made us vulnerable to predators.

One result of my lack of boundaries is that I became a rescuer, although it would be years before I acknowledged that. I reached out to other hurting people, trying to help them.

Consider my professions. I started as a public school teacher and asked for the lowest achievers in the sixth-grade class I taught. For 14 years I was a pastor and part-time chaplain. Being a professional writer may not seem to fit that role, but I’ve recently completed writing my third book for survivors. I’m also a professional ghostwriter—I help other people tell their stories.

As I’ve become aware of my need to rescue, I’ve also seen other areas of my life, such as not having the skill to say no without a lengthy apology.

That’s been changing the last three years. I’m learning to set boundaries for myself. In this blog, I frequently refer to self-talk. Many times I write simple, direct, and positive statements, put them on 3x5 file cards, and repeat them several times a day, often for months.

These two I’ve said since March of 2015:

• Appropriately I say no.

• I maintain wise, prudent, and practical boundaries.

Because I value who I am;

I can set boundaries for me.

Why Me? (Part 6 of 8)

In 2012, at a writers conference in Leesburg, Florida, a man heard me being interviewed for an article on male sexual abuse. After I hung up, he sat down next to me and told me that he was a registered sex offender.

For the next 20 minutes David* confessed what he had done before he was caught, convicted, and imprisoned for three years. He didn’t excuse himself, and many times tears filled his eyes as he felt the guilt and shame of his behavior.

“When I targeted a victim, I showed a lot of interest in everything he did or said. It wasn’t real, but that’s how those needy boys perceived it.”

David also said, “I touched the boys when I knew they were ready. They felt they were receiving affection from me.”

He shocked me when he said, “I had no trouble spotting vulnerable children. I could sense they felt isolated, didn’t like themselves, were insecure, and had been pushed aside or ignored by their families.” And the most telling statement was this, “I took advantage gradually and in such a way that my targets felt they had willingly chosen it.”

Tears filled my eyes, making me unable to talk for several minutes. He had answered a powerful question for me.

I was targeted for sexual assault.

I did not choose to be molested.

Why Me? (Part 5 of 8)

In 2011, an article in USA Today profiled serial molesters. It came out because of the charges against coach Jerry Sandusky at Pennsylvania State University. Donna Leinwand Leger interviewed psychologist Michael Seto, director of forensic rehabilitation research at the Royal Ottawa Health Care Group in Canada.

Here are excerpts from that article.

• “Serial child molesters seek out vulnerable children and cultivate relationships with them . . .”
• “They are not picking children at random . . .”
• “They are seeking out children who will be more receptive to their approach—children who may be socially cut off, impoverished, lacking a father figure.”[1]

Experts have a name for what those predators do by giving gifts, having outings, sleepovers, and other ways to have physical contact with their prey. They call it grooming. That is, they gain a child’s trust and ultimately get them accustomed to sexual behavior.

“When the grooming starts, the child may like the attention. They like the individual. The children are oftentimes very conflicted,” said Ryan Hall, a forensic psychiatrist in private practice in Lake Mary, Fla.[2]

* * * * *

[1] “Predator Profiles Mere Sketches” by Donna Leinwand Leger, USA Today, November 16, 2011, 6A.
[2]Ibid.

"Why Me? What Did I Do to Deserve This?" (Part 2 of 7)

(an encore post by Cecil Murphey)

"Why not you?" I've heard people say. That response lacks compassion.

None of us survivors deserved to be molested. It wasn't our fault; something dreadful was done to us. (The previous sentence is important and I say it often.)

We were needy—but again, that wasn't our fault. We didn't receive the love and affection we deserved and should have had. Our parents may have loved us but they didn't express it or we didn't feel their love.

If we didn't get what we needed from them, we became vulnerable and open to predators who treated us lovingly and gave us attention—but only as a means to take care of their own lust.

Here's an answer that helps me. I was a needy kid and was abused, but now that I'm well into my healing journey, I can help others on their path to wholeness.

I didn't deserve the abuse;
it wasn't my fault.

"Why Me? What Did I Do to Deserve This?" (Part 2 of 7)

"Why not you?" I've heard people say. That response lacks compassion.

None of us survivors deserved to be molested. It wasn't our fault; something dreadful was done to us. (The previous sentence is important and I say it often.)

We were needy—but again, that wasn't our fault. We didn't receive the love and affection we deserved and should have had. Our parents may have loved us but they didn't express it or we didn't feel their love.

If we didn't get what we needed from them, we became vulnerable and open to predators who treated us lovingly and gave us attention—but only as a means to take care of their own lust.

Here's an answer that helps me. I was a needy kid and was abused, but now that I'm well into my healing journey, I can help others on their path to wholeness.

I didn't deserve the abuse; 

it wasn't my fault.

Non-suicidal Self-injury

(This post is from Tom Scales of VoiceToday.org. It was published on their blog in a slightly different form.)

Many survivors of childhood sexual abuse are brainwashed to believe that they can't make good decisions for themselves. I was one of those children. During the period of abuse, the predator subtly and deceitfully convinces the victims they're responsible and complicit in the behavior. Even though the victims are children, they're brainwashed to believe that the acts were consensual. As a result, the victims assume responsibility and guilt that become serious problems in the healing process.

If they're complicit in the evil, their sense of self is severely damaged. On some level, they see themselves saturated in deceit and lies. Over time, they build up rage and self-hatred that turns into self-destructive behavior.

I had never heard the term non-suicidal self-injury until I started to understand my past and my behavior.

One of the most difficult steps in healing for me was to separate my behavior and my responsibilities from those of the predator. I had to remind myself that I had been a child with the emotional and mental capabilities of a child.

I finally understood that I had no power, no control, and no method of escape. To heal, I had to become truly free of the control and influence of the predators.

I was allowing men who had been dead for years to continue to control my life. That's when I realized I needed to forgive all my predators, and do so without reservation. As long as I carried the anger, rage, and desire for vengeance toward them, those feelings ate at my soul and discolored my self-perceptions.

It took me time to understand that forgiveness didn't release them from accountability, but released me.

My inner change didn’t release them from the prospects of an excruciating final judgment and consequences; it removed from my hands the role of judge, jury, and executioner.

Forgiveness doesn’t relieve the perpetrators from their accountability, and it's not a license for more abuse. Forgiving must come from our hearts. Only then was I free to be me, and that me is now someone I respect and love.

Wayne's Story (Part 2)

This is a second post from Wayne and even more graphic. This isn't to offend anyone, but this is the reality of the world in which we live.

—Cec Murphey


I don't remember everything. I know I don't want to. But what do I do now? Cec, you had support groups and people to talk with. I don't and I'm not sure I want to. At times I just want to forget again.

But what I want most is to be normal. I want to be whole.

Most of my abuse came as singular events--hit-and-run predators. One was a relative, and it happened only once. Most were nameless, and only one threatened violence. It started when I was in elementary school when I was in 3rd or 4th grade, maybe younger. The last three took place after I was an adult--on my 18th birthday and during the following year. All three were strangers.

Most of the abuse I committed was short-term. Only the adultery that ended my marriage to my first wife and destroyed my family was long-term. And much of the sex, even though with initial consent, became abuse. I raped a girl; today they'd call it date-rape. I molested a teenager. My sister set me up with an older woman who used and abused me. I also committed incest with another sister.

I've done almost everything you can think of and fantasized about the rest. And I just want to forget about it all.

—Wayne