Last night when catching up on A Million Little Things I had to hit pause. While I prefer to keep JDubs full of good things, positive things, love and inspiration, I feel compelled to share the emotions and thoughts that came to me when watching the show. Perhaps this will end up being inspiring and give hope to those who’ve been there.

Although I don’t like using the word victim, I am a victim of sexual abuse. Even writing that out feels like I’ve picked at a scab and it’s started to bleed again. If I were to rip the entire crusted scab off and reveal that it wasn’t just by one person or one incident the blood would really start pouring out. 

The relevant characters in the episode called The Truth are; Sophie a teenage girl who ends up being the victim. Gary, her guardian who is there as Sophie’s mother is away and Maggie, a family friend who is also a therapist. 

As Sophie is attempting to tell Maggie what happened to her, my own wounds are opening. As I learned last night, sexual abuse comes in many forms. It can be the act of rape, exposure, picture/video taking and more. After Sophie told her story she talked about accepting the blame for what happened. This is exactly what the abuser intends. Abusers are often older and therefore the victims think they know more and that they need to do as they’re told. 

In the show, Maggie remained calm and listened. She told Sophie it “not wasn’t her fault,” and the intrusion of emotions that that statement made consumed me.  You see, somewhere deep inside I’ve always believed it was my fault. 

For those who can’t understand why the victim continues the relationship with their abusers I can tell you that how Maggie explained it to Gary helped me. She said the victims “brain gets confused and to get things back to normal they continue like it didn’t happen.” I can attest that statement to be true.  

Watching the love and support Sophie received from the adults in her life was both heart warming and heart breaking. After I attempted help from the adult closest to me who offered me none and quite literally threw me back to my abuser I was even more confused. 

Sexual abuse in a child is incredibly confusing. A child’s mind can’t comprehend what is happening to them or why and especially when it’s done by someone they know and trust. 

Over the years I’ve often wondered why this happened to me. What did I do that I became their victim? Was it because I was always the good girl, the peace maker and wouldn’t do anything to ruffle any feathers? Was it because I was ugly and no one would want me anyway? In the show Maggie explains how Sophie was “groomed” by her abuser. How he knew her father was dead, her mother away and saw her vulnerability. For me, at the time of the longest running abuse, my own life was a mess with no guidance or stability (for now I’ll leave it at that)

I grew up in the shadow of an older sister who got all of the attention, new clothes, make up and cash if there was any. She got to join extracurricular activities that cost money. She was adored for her looks, where I felt like cinderella and worked for anything other than her hand me downs. I remember once asking for money like I’d witnessed my sister do and felt shamed when the reply was no because we needed it to “put food on the table.”

As for attention, I picked up any scrape of it I could grasp. Here is where I wonder if I allowed the abuse because I misconstrued it as being worthy of love and attention?

Like I said, sexual abuse done to children is confusing. Children are constantly learning. Learning from what they see, what they hear, what they experience. Children love attention and find ways to get it, especially positive attention and praise. Even when it felt wrong and dirty as the abuse was happening I’m ashamed to admit that I felt some form of positivity afterwards because it made my abuser so happy. It’s twisted, I know but as a natural pleaser I felt I’d done something right because it made him happy.

What happened to me is a scar I will have forever and I will continue to look for ways to heal the pain it has caused. 

Now, I would like to turn this post around and end on a positive.

My story doesn’t continue in tragedy or despair. I didn’t choose addictive substances or succumb to further negative attention. My spirit is stronger than that. I credit a large portion of my strength to the books I read. The images they painted in my head, the words that imprinted on my soul and the hope that I could rise above and deserve the kind of love thats whole and unconditional. 

God blessed me with that love at very young age. It is a love story I’ve written and one day will share. It’s my favorite story. The love I have is… breath taking, all consuming and something I have trouble sometimes believing I deserve. 

I put this love, this man through a test. I know I did. Consciously or subconsciously I made him prove his love for ME. Not for my body, not to be his maid, his cook, his person to push around but to be his equal partner, his confidant, his best friend. He was and is patient. I tested his trustworthiness and tenacity. I tested his love for me and how real it was before I gave him my trust, my fragile, chipped and broken heart. He was willing to wait however long it took for me to allow him in. Our relationship started as a friendship that grew into something stronger. The physical love was something I didn’t allow until I knew  his love for me was real, until I felt true safety and understanding of what love really was. Up until him my experience was ugly, wrong and not like what I had read about or wanted. 

Last night while watching the show together when I had to pause because I needed a minute to absorb the words, to process the feelings that came with them and wipe away the tears that blurred my vision, he understood. It takes a lot for someone who hasn’t been through it to understand. He has had many questions through the years. Questions that test my understanding of what happened. Why I continued my relationship with the one abuser? Why I kept it to myself?  Why I am the way I about about certain things? Through the message told on screen, he got to see things in a way I never could explain. 

I applaud the writers of A Million Little Things on their talent of being relevant and relatable. I appreciate the underlining value they continue to show us of love and friendship, trust and humanity. In the end when Gary is sitting outside of the home of Sophie’s abuser I felt divided emotions. A part of me wanted revenge for what this man did but a bigger part of me knows that the best thing he could do for Sophie is to be there for her. To help her understand that what happened isn’t her fault. To listen to her and most of all to show her love. As a victim myself I know the emotions of feeling unlovable, of feeling guilty and ashamed, embarrassed and tainted. When we are given support, love finds a way inside us, it fills in the doubt and helps us heel. Keep believing in yourself and always believe in love.