* It no longer matters.
* They don’t care.
* What difference does it make?
* I talk about it to others; why should I have to bring in my siblings?
* It will only stir up anger and hurt.
* They probably won’t believe me.
Despite all the excuses, I knew that speaking to the people among whom I had grown up was something I had to do. For me, it was a significant barrier to overcome on my healing journey.
I finally spoke up and, to my surprise, my three surviving sisters understood. I felt such great freedom in opening up. Maybe my siblings didn't need to hear as much as I needed to tell them.
* What difference does it make?
* I talk about it to others; why should I have to bring in my siblings?
* It will only stir up anger and hurt.
* They probably won’t believe me.
Despite all the excuses, I knew that speaking to the people among whom I had grown up was something I had to do. For me, it was a significant barrier to overcome on my healing journey.
I finally spoke up and, to my surprise, my three surviving sisters understood. I felt such great freedom in opening up. Maybe my siblings didn't need to hear as much as I needed to tell them.
To tell my family about my abuse—
regardless of their response—
can be a powerful healing experience for me.
(This post was adapted from Not Quite Healed, written by Cecil Murphey and Gary Roe.)
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I never told any of my family. Up until the day my father killed my mom and shot himself in a murder/suicide did any of my family know. It was then when I heard why he was so upset that I shared that he had done to me what he had been accused of doing to another boy.
ReplyDeleteI was not overwhelmed with sympathy and support. But I was not called a liar either due to the circumstances. Typically it was accepted and everyone moved on with their own pain. No one asked for details or how I was doing now. Everyone just continued with their own stories and I left to be alone for a while.
Still on the positive side, I was believed.