February 19, 2019

The Boy I Left Behind: Sexual Abuse Report - Telling My Story

This week, David Lohman DeVore relates his experience of sitting down in front of the Catholic counsel and taking the big step of telling his story.

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After a few months, I agreed to speak with a diocesan advocate who handles sexual abuse cases for the church. There was something incredibly familiar and comforting about Pat. Maybe it was her soft Midwestern tone, matched with a deep sense of concern and care. After talking to her for about an hour, I realized that it was my responsibility to report the priest for sexual abuse because he was still in active duty and worked with children. Even though my situation still didn’t feel like abuse to me, maybe it would be for another child.

I felt vulnerable. The cat was out of the bag leaving me feeling empty, unsure, and under a self-created microscope. The Catholic church generously offered me three years of therapy in a letter from the diocesan headquarters. Somehow reading the formal letter made me feel like I was in trouble. The words "sexual abuse" appeared multiple times. That couldn’t be me they were talking about. It just couldn’t. I knew that I needed something more than traditional therapy, being a therapist myself. Three years? No way. Six months would be plenty. And I wasn’t up for analysis.

I realized the disconnection I was experiencing in my life was spiritual in nature. Maybe I needed spiritual healing? I asked around for a recommendation, and through divine synchronicity found an amazing spiritual coach from California named Suzi Lula. I knew she was my person the moment I first talked to her.

I didn’t think doing sessions on the phone would work for me, but was surprised how quickly we went deep into the core of what was going on. I felt completely free and safe working with her from my home. I did each session in my bedroom with the door closed and a notebook handy. I made sure I had adequate time before and after the session to prepare and process. It was the absence of judgement and high vibration of love and vision by Suzi that allowed me to open up so quickly. She was holding the space we created together, and I’ve never felt so understood by anyone in my life. She believed in me.

I had agreed to go over my sexual abuse report with a counsel of peers at the diocesan headquarters and spent my first sessions with Suzi preparing and working though any hesitations or vulnerability I felt. I was incredibly confident on the three-hour rural train ride to the meeting. I arrived at the campus a little early and was greeted by a woman at a desk who was sorting a large pile of papers. I introduced myself as she looked up from her work. She reassuringly asked me to take a seat as they were preparing the meeting space and waiting for a few of the counsel to arrive. I wondered if she knew why I was there, and what had happened.

 I was relieved to see my mom sitting in the waiting room quietly reading a book. She stood up and gave me a hug, and we talked a little. We were whispering as if we were in church. I noticed the sterile smell of holy water that filled the air, causing the hair to stand up on my neck. I felt light headed, and clammy as a drop of sweat ran down my face. I also seemed to be having trouble catching my breath, as my heart pounded.

 I would later discover that these are symptoms of shame. My mom reached over and held my hand. She asked me if I wanted her to pray with me, and I said yes. It was comforting. The only thing I remember about the prayer is that she asked that I be able to tell my truth, my story.



"David? We’re ready for you", Pat said as she walked over to me. "It’s really hard to get everyone in the counsel together at the same time. Sorry about the delay. Nice to finally meet you."  Relief rushed over me at the sound of her voice. I had spoken with her numerous times on the phone including the sexual abuse report. I wasn’t sure if I should shake her hand or hug her. As we walked quietly down the hallway, I turned to look at my mother, "I’m proud of you", she whispered. I felt like a thirteen-year old boy on his way to the principal’s office. Impending doom. As we entered the small meeting room, the council, sitting around a long oval table jumped to their feet as if we had startled them. As I shook their hands they asked me questions about my trip, and my plans for Thanksgiving. I was in full panic mode. Terrified. There was one window in the room. I could escape. I could ask to use the restroom, grab my mom, and leave.

As we sat down, everyone looked at me and I felt so small. I could see their fear. A man at the head of the table broke the silence, "To be honest David, we have never done this before. We’ve never had a sexual abuse case against a living priest. We’re not sure how to proceed. Maybe it would be best if you told us what happened and we will ask questions. How does that sound?"
  
For a second, I thought I might not be able to speak. My mind felt foggy. My throat was dry. A woman handed me a glass of water and I began, "First off, I wanted to tell you that I am a gay man. I feel that this might put me at a disadvantage as to how you perceive me and this report." It surprised me that I said this. But as I looked at the group of middle-aged Catholics of all walks of life, I felt judged by them before I even got started. Homosexuality is forbidden and considered a mortal sin the the church. Maybe they are all going to be on the side of the priest? I was in a full-fledged shame storm.

I began to tell the story of how the priest and I met and became friends. My voice cracked and I stopped. "What’s going to happen to him?" I said abruptly and began sobbing. The woman sitting next to me handed me a Kleenex and told me to take my time. This was not going at all the way I expected. I thought I had the whole thing together. My story. The report. It hadn’t been more than a few minutes and I was hysterical. I felt embarrassed. I took a deep breath and continued on for the next two hours. And and as the minutes passed it became easier. I felt reassurance that they believed me.



Read Part 4: Spiritual Healing

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David Lohman DeVore, M.A. is a shame recovery coach, and survivor or childhood sexual abuse.   He began his career twenty-five years ago as a wellness coach and personal trainer.   He became a psychotherapist in 2003 and developed a mind, body, spirit life coaching practice.  Over the last eight years, David’s spiritual and healing journey became his main focus.  He made the discovery that shame was subconsciously holding him back in all areas of his life.   It has become his passion to share practices to assist survivors in waking up from the shame driven world that blinds us from the joyful purpose-driven life we were born to live.


Find out more about David’s work at Awakeyou.com 




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In the Beyond Surviving program, I've combined what I have learned through my own journey of recovery from sexual abuse, my study of neuroscience, my training in counseling psychology, and my experience working with hundreds of clients. I have included every lesson, exercise, worksheet, client example, and training module that has made a difference for me and my clients into this program. 


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