By: Linda Sapadin
For many years, Joseph had no words to describe what had happened to him. Not only did he lack a vocabulary to speak about it; he couldn't even explain to himself what had happened. To this day, he feels ashamed and guilty that "this thing" occurred.
"What exactly is "this thing"? I asked. "Well that's part of the problem," he replied. "I don't even know what to call it. I don't know exactly. It was many years ago. But I do know that since the stories about priests molesting children have surfaced, I've been following every story and feeling even more upset than others for these kids. "
Joseph then became very quiet. When he was ready, he took a deep breath and began to tell his story.
"It only happened once but I'll never forget the day. My parents were away. My favorite uncle was taking care of me and my little sister. I had come home from playing baseball and was complaining about how my back hurt. Uncle Pete said I should go to bed and he'd be in in a little while to make me feel better.
When he came in my room, he asked me where it hurt. I pointed to my lower back. He said he knew how to make me feel a lot better. I remember him sitting on my bed and stroking my back. It felt good at first. But then in a moment so quick, everything changed. What he was doing felt wrong. But I didn't know if it was wrong. This was my Uncle Pete. I loved him and he loved me. He would never do anything to hurt me.
I didn't know what to think. I didn't even know what was happening. My body felt like a bolt of lightening hit it and I lay there feeling both electrified and dead. I just closed my eyes and told myself to lie still, and everything would be okay.
I think my sister saved me from anything really awful happening. She was supposed to be sleeping but I heard her wake up, screaming for my mother. I remember my uncle telling me, "I have to go. No one will ever know. Go to sleep now."
And no one ever did know. The next morning when I woke up, my parents were there. Everything was back to normal. I knew I could never speak about what happened to anyone. I wouldn't even know what to say. Until now -- 32 years later. That moment had changed everything, though in a way nothing had changed. The memory still spooks me. But at least now I can talk about it, think about it and know that it wasn't my fault. And also know that my Uncle Pete did love me. He was a good man; he just wasn't a good man that day."
Some events feel too heavy to speak about. And sometimes when you're not quite sure what happened, they may feel even more confusing, more terrifying. Was I abused? Did it really happen? Does it matter if it only happened once? Did I imagine some of this stuff? Did I contribute to it? Why didn't I stop it? Was it betrayal or am I making a big deal out of something that wasn't so bad?
Though family secrets still abound, many things are not as taboo as they used to be. This is true for two reasons. One, "these things" now have names; "sexual abuse" was not something ever spoken about years ago. Two, kids are no longer as easily intimidated by those in authority as they used to be.
It often takes many years for people to feel safe enough to even begin to open up about unsettling events in their childhood. When they find the courage to do so, however, it is almost always for the good, creating inner strength, peace of mind and closure.
Linda Sapadin,. Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice who works with individuals, families and couples. Copyright 2002.
