August 30, 2015

If You Can't Remember, Does It Mean The Abuse Wasn't Real? - Part 1


ONE | is the grass always greener

Eleven years ago, at the age of 31, I encountered Childhood Sexual Abuse for the first time.

At a women’s conference near the Shenandoah Valley, I sat and listened. I don’t remember what the speaker’s presentation was about that evening, but I remember asking if I could speak with her. I remember telling her that I didn’t understand why I had become such an angry person, with yelling fits and difficulty controlling my emotions. She asked if she could ask me a few questions and her response changed my world… forever.

As I sat in a room full of chattering strangers, the only thing I seemed to hear were words of one sentence that I had never heard before. The retreat speaker told me, “You were abused as a child...” I think I was somewhat unemotional at the time, I can’t really remember. But since, I’ve wondered about her statement. Was it true? How did she know? Should she have told me even if it was true? …is this was why I was always called “special” growing up. Was this what was “special” about me?

I returned to my room at the conference center. I sat in the corner of the room and stared out of the over-sized windows into the distant mountains. A cool, spring breeze flowed through the windows bringing calm to such sterile news, yet covered me with muddled and perplexing astonishment at the same time. I wondered what just happened to my perfect childhood. I wondered what my husband going to say… he didn’t marry me broken, I thought! Yet, I’ve been broken all this time and didn’t know it!

Now I can see an astringed and lonely, school-aged girl on the playground seeking seclusion from classmates - yet hoping for her teacher’s approval and loyalty. A shy little girl with undetected learning disabilities that made reading and writing difficult, abstract and exhausting - yet allowed her imagination the ability to protect her spirit. A reserved little girl living in complete co-dependency on her “perfect” family – yet, not understanding that, sometimes, the most perfect families are often the families with the most to hide. A respectful little girl never bending the rules, never questioning the rules or rebelling against them – yet, always thankful for the protection they provided her to hide within.

In some ways, it feels like I am still in that room overlooking the mountains still today… left wondering if that little girl’s life was a lie.

I am a Mid-West girl turned Southern wife and a mother of four.  I currently work in marketing, web and social media content.  I have degrees, have taught and professionally performed as a professional musician, an artist and in stagecraft.  If I were to describe myself, I would say I am creative, impractical, organized, imaginative, honest, frugal, and like being in control.  I have always dreamed of being a published writer or professional speaker - then I realized, I really didn’t have a story to share... well, several years ago life presented me with journey!  My name is Rayne... I don’t yet have a story to tell, but I have a journey to share.




No comments:

Post a Comment

Sign up for my free guide so you can stop spinning your wheels and instead navigate your way through each stage of recovery with ease and clarity. Get the support you need today