Have you ever been sitting at a table for Christmas dinner with the family, but part of you is absent$%: There's dad carving the roast, and mother happily sharing all the news of the family around the table and getting all the conversation flowing. There's your brothers and your sisters and all the in- laws and then there's you.
They talk about babies and love and relationships, and you nod your head and agree where you can and laugh at the jokes, and you're part of the family. To everybody present, you may be a little sullen, but your the brother and they know even though you are quite now, you can talk their ears off if given a chance.
In the business of eating, with plates and knives and forks being clanked and mouths being filled and emptied, the world at large at your dinner table might be forgiven in not noticing your emptiness. How could they know the turmoil that rages in your gut$%: How could they know the pain you feel inside, and the rejection you feel amongst these people who you call family$%:
I had a girlfriend once, that was a prostitute. We were lying in each others arms one time, between clients, and she was sharing with me how she was dreading Christmas. Christmas to her, was a time where she had to put on a brave face, a pleasant smile and greet her abusers with a hug and a kiss. My dear Chloe had been abused by her own family, brothers and uncles and family friends, and Christmas was a very painful time for her. I felt my heart being torn in anguish for her, as she trembled and spoke with real fear and trepidation about the upcoming season. Christ's birthday wasn't her favorite day.
We all have worn a face for certain people haven't we. Those of us who have been abused instinctively know that we can't share all of our life with those we love. Somehow molestation has its own language and without meeting another sexually abused person, our spirits know what to do with those thoughts. We live a lonely, sad and depressed life behind those smiles we greet our loved ones with, and we don't share the real truth, that's something that wouldn't be fair.
So we bear each family reunion with the best face we can wear. When we wash ourselves in the shower we cry, and as we wipe ourselves we wipe the pain away. We brush our hair and walk out into the world with fresh clothes, a fresh appearance and to all who know us as their relative or family member we are the same old person that they know and love. And in this action we rob ourselves of being loved for who we are.
Then one day we can't hide the past any more. It seems with one conversation and with one person who has caught us vulnerable we are able to open up to the whole story of abuse and shame within us. Like a wave, it tumbles out of us and we enter a new season in life. A good friend of mine, an author and poet put this stage in a poem that I'd like to share with you.
No More Secrets
A lonely place, a sad little face
Old photos make me cry
I long to hold me, and never scold me
Wipe my tear-filled eyes
A quite child, I rarely smiled
A darkness always followed
Love wasn't easy, insides were queasy
Emotions had to be swallowed
A victim of, desperate love
And several types of abuse
Locked inside, I learned to hide
And found there was no use
I have cried out, and learned to shout
The secrets of my past
Lots of sweat, and no regret
I've found my key at last.
Yvonne Elizabeth from her book, Available at Amazon.
Hiding Behind a Smile.
At one time I had this book, five years ago many moves before. If you have been a victim of sexual abuse or know someone who has or has grown up with parents that drink this is a very moving and touching book. Years ago when I built my first web site I had plenty of her poems in my articles. I highly recommend it especially if you are in America where freight won't kill you.
Have you found your key$%: Have you told anyone yet about your abuse$%: Do you need some help, or just a place where you can tell some others what you went through$%: I invite you to contact myself
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