When I was around six or seven something happened to me that I still can’t fully find the words for. A trusted family took advantage of me multiple times, and though I didn’t understand it at that age, he left me with a whole lifetime of questions and scars that I’ve only just begun to work through. Only this past summer did I finally tell my mom what happened. While I’ve dealt with all this for years and years now, becoming a mother changed my trauma and brought out a deep and indescribable fear for myself and my daughter.
After what happened to me I had a hard time being left alone with men with the exception of my dad. But with uncles, cousins and even my brothers, I struggled to feel at ease and was essentially holding my breath til another girl or woman came in. Men I knew would never hurt me still scared me because someone I had once trusted had hurt me.
As I got older it got better and I felt like maybe I was moving past the whole situation. It turns out my trauma was just manifesting itself in different ways. I began lying about EVERYTHING, chores, homework, just making up stories about things that didn’t matter, and things that I probably wouldn’t have been in trouble for if I had told the truth. In high school, I chose straight up denial. I told myself it never happened and that I had made it all up in my head. The denial was hard and the more I tried to forget, the more I remembered and the more it played in my head. In my earlier adult years, it manifested itself in a bout of promiscuity, and a complete lack of understanding about my sexuality and what a healthy relationship should look like. Every stage of my life was in some part impacted by what happened and when I realized that, I was able to say “enough” and find the help I so desperately needed.
A year ago when I had my daughter, there was a huge mental shift. I now had this sweet child who needed protection, and I became obsessed. My uneasiness around men came back with a vengeance. Who could I trust with my baby? Just leaving her with her grandparents for an hour or two usually put me in a spiral. I know most new moms feel a lot like this. But the whole time I was apart from her all I could think was that if something happened to her I wouldn’t be able to help or do anything. This was with people I truly and deeply trusted. But the knot in my stomach was bound so tight I couldn’t function away from her.
After a few months of therapy, I felt better. I was slowly working through my questions and frustrations. I was so angry with myself for allowing it to happen and felt like it was 100% all my fault. I was slowly able to forgive myself and realize I wasn’t at fault. I hadn’t done anything to cause what happened.
Then one day after years of being able to avoid this person, they showed up at a family function. I had laid my daughter down for a nap and hadn’t noticed that the batteries in my monitor had died. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my baby girl in this man’s arms. Panic rose in my chest and I was instantly nauseous. For weeks that feeling didn’t leave. I didn’t sleep and felt like all my progress had just evaporated. My distrust and fear of those closest to us intensified and I shut down. How was it that 17 years later this was still happening? How was I still allowing him to have such influence on my day to day life?
After more therapy and lots self-reflection, I realized that I was raising my daughter in fear, and as scared as I was, and still am, I don’t want her to live her life fearful and distrusting of everyone around her.
So, how to do I overcome my feelings to show my daughter that life can be beautiful, while still teaching her caution and self-protection? I don’t know, I don’t have a concrete answer.
For now, I’m trying to allow her to set her boundaries with others, and only step in when I feel like I am needed. I’m trying to work my way through my own fear because I know she senses it. I’m educating her now, as she’s super teeny tiny about herself and her body. And even though I know she doesn’t understand or remember I’m starting now so that the habit is set, and as she grows she’ll know what’s not ok, and she’ll understand consent. I’m trying to teach her to look out for herself, and that bad guys can come in all shapes and sizes, colors and genders, but that she has the tools to keep herself safe.
My hope is that if something does happen she’ll know she can talk to her dad and me honestly and there will be no judgment and that whatever it is it isn’t her fault. I’m trying to teach her self advocacy and I’m trying to teach her that she is brave is beyond belief.
As for me, I’ll continue to work through my things and do my best not to let it affect my daughter because our life together as a family is too beautiful to waste any more time letting something ugly hold onto me.
