I hadn't gone to a counselor or therapist, but that happened around the time we heard so much about the false-memory syndrome. Therapists had inadvertently planted false memories in some of their clients.
I wanted mine to be false memories.
But they weren't.
I was molested.
Because I can accept that fact, I can overcome the pain.
(This post was adapted from Not Quite Healed, written by Cecil Murphey and Gary Roe.)
1 comment:
I knew my abuse happened. I just didn't call it that. It was just something dad and I did occasionally. Later on in life I started hearing about 'abuse'. I finally accepted that I was 'molested'. That's my compromise, my way of saying something happened but it was not ABUSE. My dad loved me; my mom told me so it must be true. If someone loves you it can't be abuse.
It was not till I too was in my fifty's and I had been divorced twice and was struggling with porn that I finally accepted the term. He totally screwed up my life and how I related to others and myself. He abused my trust, my love, my life and my body.
I am working hard to correct the course my life was set on and am finding it can be done. The harm is done but the future is up to me on how I chart the rest of my life's course.
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