The First Time I was Sexually Abused…

Trigger Warning: Sexual Abuse.

Sexual abuse is a thief that comes in and violates your sense of protection, identity, purpose and robs many of us of our essential selves. This type of abuse has the capacity to steal years if not all of our lives. I have never judged and will never judge anyone who has completely given up on life or who has thought about giving up on life after experiencing this kind of abuse.

For those who have never experienced it, I pray it may never break into your life; your sacred space. For the rest of us who have experienced the utter devastation of this act(s) know that you are strength and whatever may have been violated and stolen mentally, physically and emotionally/spiritually, you are everlasting and unbreakable.

The first time I was sexually abused I was seven years old still living in the Caribbean. I was at school on the playground with my friends when a local villager passed by. He decided it was a good idea to grab a hold of me and place a blade to my neck while dragging me away from the school compound. As he was doing this, he took the liberty of placing his hands in some of the most intimate places on my young body. My friends had of course alerted the closest teachers who were able to intercept the man and get me safely away from him. When asked about the encounter later on I would only refer to being afraid of having the knife held to my neck-nothing else. I always thought that even though I never said the words my family members knew something more had occurred. As long as I did not speak about it, they were happy to leave the situation as is.

The second time I was sexually abused occurred when a family member touched me in inappropriate places as a nine year old child. To be perfectly honest, this is a memory I have worked hard at erasing over the years. Though I cannot provide much detail on that moment in my life, I do know it was the catalyst for much of my negative behaviour later on in life. I developed the habit of always seeking out men to take care of and protect me. Hoping deep down that one day I would be able to share this experience and they would know the right words to say and the right thing to do to defend me. As an adult I would recognize that my inherent need for male protection developed after this male protector in my life shattered my taught and inherent perceptions of family values.

The third time I was sexually abused, again, a family member violated my body. This time however, it was made known to my family. The response I received did not live up to my expectations; or at least the expectations of popular culture as to what should happen. Everything was handled quietly. I had no idea what conversations took place and counselling was never mentioned.

Later on in life I would learn these occurrences which I believed to be uncommon were very commonplace to most of the women and men in my life. When I finally spoke up about the second incident, the fact that they did not jump on their white horse and dash off to champion and defend my honour made more sense to me as an adult.

Now as I continue to self-heal, trying daily to bring myself to a place without hurt and anger; I know unequivocally, I am my own white knight. As hard as this may be to understand we have to acknowledge the depth of our strength and our spirits which is outside of the reach of these experiences.

For many of us, a large part of our strength of character will be shaped by these acts of violation. Wherever we are in life, it is always for us to remember we are beauty, untouched and ever protected in our spirits; where the best of our being dwells.

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