Tag: sexual abuse

The Perpetrator, Shame and Punishment

by 8hummingbirdway

[I wrote this post back in January. It was part of looking back at myself and at cultural issues that concern me.]

I am going to share my belief that our culture could and should advance to the point where the perpetrator of harm is helped to release shame.

Why? Because shame is a block to healing. Because the abused person often becomes the perpetrator. And because if we do not see to the wounds of the perpetrator, we perpetuate the harm.

Before one can change ingrained patters of unhealthy and harmful behavior, they must release the shame that comes along with those patterns – whether perpetrator or injured party – often one and the same.

What is shame? Here’s my definition: Shame is the belief of inherent depravety and wrongness of the self.

What does shame do to an individual? It keeps them down, separate, and stuck in imbalance. This imbalance is deeply harmful and limiting. It also is the trigger that initiates undesirable behavior that harms others and the greater community.

I know something about this. I used to carry shame. As a person who was sexually abused. As a child of parents who did not always treat me as a treasured being. As a liar. As the oldest daughter who did not always treat my siblings as treasured beings. And there you have it. The shamed one shames others. It spreads more surely than any virus.

Most of my life I carried shame. It is a heavy load. It stopped me from applying for jobs I was qualified for and would have excelled at. It stopped me from speaking up for myself, expressing my ideas, even talking to others. It stopped me from feeling at ease in my skin – from dancing or singing around others. It stopped me from being at ease with sexuality. I could go on.

I am fortunate that I was able to sustain two marriages and raise three children. I could have done better. I have my regrets. But in the family arena I navigated well for the most part.

I am not sure when the shame actually left me. It was in the past 3 years. (I’m 68.) It was a spiritual journey of coming to terms with my mother, with myself, and with Spirit/Source/ God. A year ago I started posting on Facebook about my shamanic practice. It was only this past summer that confidence was finally born within me, enabling me to offer journey circles to people I didn’t know, enabling me to call forth this website, giving me the opportunity to share the contents of my soul.

Shame is harmful and dark; it destroys people and relationships.

I do not support the current paradigm of prison. It’s inhumane – and it’s another thing to be ashamed about.

Healing should be the focus if one must be separated from the society at large due to their behavior. Not in a punishment that adds deep insult to injury and sets one up to fail on their release. Education and rehabilitation are given lip service, but no personal account that I have ever heard includes true opportunity – except for the occasional opportunity to interact with those who have a healing intention – either inmates or others.

I’m aware of the current pattern of releasing individuals who don’t obey the laws. I am not suggesting that there should be no repercussion for actions against others or against property.

I am also not saying that I align with every law.

I simply cannot see how we can heal humanity without ensuring that all humans have the right to the basic necessities of freedom, food, shelter, clothing – and work in a respectful environment.

I am aware that the color of one’s skin, the language one speaks, and the wealth in one’s bank account mitigate a great deal of “having to pay the price,” and this strengthens my feelings about the unfairness that exists in our legal system.

I do believe that we must, at least in our wealthy country of privilege, find a way to provide access to true wellbeing for all who are able and willing to participate in a functional way, and a safety net for those at risk, should they chose to employ it.

I believe we can and eventually will move forward to a open, loving and healing existence. I see the seeds sprouting all around me.

Once we find a solution to our current paradigm of shame, unfairness, imbalance and harm, I hope that we will spread the healing worldwide.

I am not saying that I know how to bring this to reality. I have confidence that if we were to make healing and personal wellbeing a true priority, those in powers could navigate much closer to this goal. I’m not saying our currently elected leaders will do this. I see no evidence of that possibility.

I will simply say that I believe all humans can be healed to a great extent, that they want to be healed, and that this should be a top priority and intention in families, in all our institutions – including schools, and in our legal systems.

Obviously there is a great deal of work to do.

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The Price

by 8hummingbirdway

I stated in a recent post that a terrible price was paid – for my memories of sexual abuse which resulted in significant personal healing for me. It has been difficult to write since then. This topic has been in my awareness as I wrote prior posts, especially as I wrote about family members and was gently chided by a friend who read some of my posts about my family history – he wondered whether I was writing in integrity – because of my disclosure of disclose some of what I wrote about family. This wondering in turn caused me to write a series of posts about dirty little secrets. And I have written more on that topic, which I have yet to post. So many threads of thoughts drift off. Now this one of family has returned, unexpected. I did not sit down to write this aspect about my sexual abuse in the recent post about not having a tribe, but it popped up anyway. It wants to be told.

This terrible price was paid by me and by my siblings, my children, my nephews, my father’s sister, and especially by my father.

I accused him of sexually abusing me in my early childhood.

The strange thing is that in neither of my memories, did I see the abuser’s face.

I simply “knew” it was my father.

Our home was not peaceful. Disharmony reigned between our parents as they navigated a growing family (5 children) and various personal and marital issues. Sometimes they lashed out at us, but mostly it was the two of them. Sometimes it was scary. Mom throwing things. Dad walking out the door. My response to this has shifted over the years.

I was not aware that I myself carried the hostility I was raised with until I lost two close friends in my 30s and 40s. The first tried to talk to me about it. The second told another when she abandoned our friendship that she “didn’t want to do battle with Annie.”

When my first child was young, I began to choose forbearance over disharmony, but it has been a long journey.

Although I had mitigated some of the pattern I grew up with, I could still be very vehement and angry at times. Even now, I have to check myself (especially when I feel something critical is at stake). I am grateful to say that I am now in control of my responses. It has truly taken a lifetime, as well as a great deal of patience and love and honesty from my closest family members.

It didn’t happen all at once. There were steps along the way.

Having my two younger children, close in age, enter their teenage years and witnessing their arguments brought me to a place where I started to actually distance myself from disharmony in any form. Somehow it brought me right back to the fear connected to my parents’ fights.

Only in recent years have I have learned to remove myself from arguments and keep my thoughts to myself at even the threat of disharmony. I’m sure there are moments when this is not ideal, but overall I would say it’s a positive development. (I do stand my ground when necessary.)

My second husband, strong, honest and devoted, has brought me much of this last distance. And I have to say that my son shared insights with me on our recent trip that shifted my awareness even more. I have always been hardest on the men I love most.

Now in my 60’s, I can no longer blame Mom.

I’m still noticing my responses (inner and outer), and evolving into the person I want to be. Most recently, a channeled message from Sri Pune let me know that understanding my son and my husband would change me – and make me a better shamanic practitioner.

I am making headway.

I have written a lot here, and there is a lot more to say about all that happened. I see that I will have to continue another day. Soon.

I have noticed that it’s best for me to intersperse more neutral topics with personal revelation in my posts. It took me 5 days after the last one to write this one. I wasn’t sure I could do it.

But here I am, and it’s important that I continue to shed light on that which I deeply regret.

There is THE TRUTH, not lying – and then there is the truth of full disclosure – especially since I have written some things about others. (And yes, I realize that there is a difference in who does the telling. I also realize that telling one’s own story is not the same as telling the stories you know about others. And I may have more light to shed on that.)

I know that many of you hold understanding and compassion in your hearts, and for this I am grateful.

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Navigating Life with the Lack of a Tribe

by 8hummingbirdway

I believe that my yearning for being born in another time, and for simpler ways, closer to the land is the result of being born into this physical reality without the proper guidance of those who might teach me about who I am, how to conduct myself, and how to live and provide for myself. We enter this word in need of guidance about who we are, how to navigate challenges, how to honor ourselves and to make sense of our lives.

Once a group of people leaves the tribal paradigm, we generally no longer grow our own food or build our own homes. We become dependent on an external version of property, propriety and status. We are not taught how to live in balance, how to honor ourselves and others, or how to live and eat in harmony with the seasons. We are not taught about who we are, who our people are, who our ancestors are, where they came from, or what they believed. Most of us do not have a place on the earth, do not have a clear sense of responsibility to our community, to our elders, or to our children.

Parents in our current paradigm have little time for their children. I was lucky to have been raised by those who did their best for me, my parents – though looking back I can see that they too, though they did their best, were lost.

Today, many people, possibly most people in our culture, are on a treadmill of providing funds for food that may not nourish their families, funds so we can dress in ways and have things that will allow us to “fit in” or to impress others, providing wealth rather than stability and self-understanding to their children. Children are raised predominantly in some sort of childcare arrangement and they are taught in schools. The public school lessons are mostly void of values, understanding of self and others, or guidance/training that helps one sort out how to move confidently into adulthood in a way that satisfies or provides for the self, and contributes to the greater good.

When I reached adulthood, I floundered. Jobs, colleges, and relationships with others were somewhat random; they came and went. I did not know how to evaluate myself, my choices or have clear goals. Looking back, I see that the events around me formed my life, not any internalized wisdom, sense of self, sense of place, or understanding of the world around me.

I did not know who I was.

I was generally a caring person, but had little sense of personal boundaries or values. I became a parent because my sister wasn’t able to care for her child and I was the oldest. I married to protect the status of my daughter from her alcoholic biological father and his brother, an attorney.

Parenting was the start of true learning, but I still had a long way to go.

I soon recognized that I carried negative patterns of blame and punishment from my childhood that I could not align with. I had no firm and positive understanding of how to be a parent, nor did I have the biological benefit of instinct kicking in. I turned to books to learn, and I started to gain better parenting skills through reading and experience.

Within a couple of years I strayed from my marriage …when the urge struck, without much thought or understanding about this choice. Within a year or two, I managed to recognize the error (it hurt my heart), and receded back into the marriage that I had established without recognizing that deception and lying were not positive ways to conduct myself.

I never told my husband, but I did tell my children after leaving the marriage. Was that positive? I still don’t know.

There was a fair amount of deception and lying in my childhood, both within my family and elsewhere.

We went on this way, my husband earning a living in a way that did not align with what was legal at the time. We had 2 more children, I worked in the corporate world that I did not respect. My children were in childcare from a very young age.

Shortly after my youngest child was born, I had 2 memories of being sexually abused as a child. I went to a therapist and learned that much of my behavior (controlling behavior, sexual discomfort and bad personal boundaries) were classic patterns of people with this type of experience in childhood.

This memory is what changed my life – for the better, but not without a terrible price.

I realized so much about myself. I worked for years to heal my deep wounds, to correct my ways. One of the first things I realized is that I had been a liar. I stopped in my tracks …or tried to. It was not easy. I had to change a lot of patterns, such as gossip, social white lies, untruths for convenience. Over the years I have gained strength. Sometimes I divert answers so as not to hurt …or to simply keep my thoughts + opinions to myself.

Today I do not lie or practice deception.

My life took a turn. I had left the corporate world and started a house cleaning business that was simple and honest and I provided work for others and paid them well. As the business grew, I was able to homeschool all 3 of my children for two to 4 years, which was a blessing for all of us.

I continued my spiritual search, now standing on more solid ground, understanding more about myself, having established truth, and the beginnings of true personal growth and strength.

The terrible price? Before I fully aligned with truth, I told one last careless untruth, unbeknownst to myself at the time.

I will write more about this soon.

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Time Brings Change

by 8hummingbirdway

When I visited my closest friend just after she gave birth, there was an incident in which her baby ejected projectile diarrhea on a wall 5 feet away. It was nothing I’d ever seen before – amazing! 100 years ago it would have been in bad taste to tell anyone about this, and I don’t think my grandmother would have appreciated it 50 years ago. In those days we had to be protected from this aspect of life. (Shameful bodily functions such as defecating!) And it wasn’t a normal baby poop event, hence …additionally shameful?

Bodily functions were definitely not discussed by my grandmother. I’m sure she contended with baby poop regularly, but it was the woman’s domain and my grandfather was protected from it. And yes, shame was part of this package of secrecy.

Over time it has become standard for both parents to contend with diaper changes. This familiarity and comfort helps to diffuse the impact of shame significantly.

You get the idea. Defecation and feces has been normalized over time. Today, you might not enjoy visualizing the event I described, but most people don’t give it another thought.

I’m hoping that in another 50 or 100 years we humans will be more comfortable with our bodies – maybe enough to discuss sex with ease. I know the younger generations have made strides forward in this arena.

Sexual abuse, other forms of abuse, and human trafficking also need to be brought into the light of awareness. Associated shame needs to be healed. Hopefully there will be no place for these harmful realities in our world in the next century.

I also hope we will be more knowledgeable about what is now called mental illness and addiction. The move to consider them not the fault of the person, and the recognition of heredity are positive movements toward the eradication of shame. I predict we will eventually be able to discuss all of these matters without shame coming into play within ourselves – or in the reactions of others. It will be as appropriate as poop.

Private sessions are offered in person and remotely by phone or video conference. Contact Annie to book a session, host a workshop, for sliding scale rates or to discuss barter arrangements.

About my recent story of Jerry

by 8hummingbirdway

The story of trauma I told in my last post is a story of deep harm and tragedy. My friend was taught to carry shame. However, I’m guessing that nobody has a problem with me telling this story. The greater public does not react with discomfort about me sharing this story. Yes horror. Yes sadness. Hopefully compassion. Perhaps judgement toward the father or towards gun-owners or toward hunters. But no personal shame exists fundamentally in this story. And I am not expected to keep silent.

I am, however, expected to keep silent about other, more sensitive topics that touch upon what we perceive to be shameful. Our culture treats abuse (especially sexual abuse), mental illness, and addiction as shameful topics. Shame for the “victim.” The perpetrator is often protected by the secrecy that results from the abused person’s shame, and the family is protected by their own silence (resulting from shame) regarding mental illness and addiction.

I’m certain there are other categories that carry this kind of shame and secrecy. Sex workers and homelessness come to mind – and there is overlap in all of these categories. But the circumstances of abuse, mental illness and addiction are the circumstances I am personally familiar with.

In telling about my friend’s birthday party or the birth of her son, I am not crossing the line of what is appropriate to share. If I tell about the accident she had or the time her house was broken into I am not crossing the line. If she is murdered I am not crossing the line. But if she is raped or tortured by her husband …it’s private and I am crossing the line of shame to mention it. If she takes a medication that causes a reaction, that’s ok to share, but not a mental reaction, or an addiction, because I am now calling shame upon her.

Are you starting to see what I mean by dirty little secrets and about my feeling concern about our silence – to keep everyone comfortable, and to sustain the status quo?

What is wrong with our sense of right and wrong?

The reality is that people are being hurt by their “loved ones” – both sexually and in other ways. People are diagnosed with mental illness or discover themselves (or their children/mates) to be addicts. And we are expected to keep it to ourselves – secret, hidden.

Would people think it was wrong of me to tell this story if Jerry was about my brother? They might. Some would worry about the impact on him and perhaps on my father, the hunter. The thought and belief is that I should be more protective about family members.

These same concerns exist if stories are told about family members who may have experienced addiction, family members who have been challenged with mental illness, or family members who perpetrated or experienced sexual abuse.

I do not agree with this keeping of dirty little secrets because we are family or because abuse, mental illness or addiction are shameful.

They aren’t shameful; they are conditions of harm. Those who suffer these versions of harm are many. These multitudes who walk among us every day need healing and compassion. However, the healing is not available when we keep these matters in the dark. And compassion does not result if silence is the order of the day.

I do understand about privacy. But the people I have been writing about do not share my last name, nor do they live in my community. I have not exposed them personally. But I am sharing the deep impact that their harm, hurt, and injury has had on me, on my soul, and on my life path.

Private sessions are offered in person and remotely by phone or video conference. Contact Annie to book a session, host a workshop, for sliding scale rates or to discuss barter arrangements.

Deception

by 8hummingbirdway

Keeping Secrets makes us comfortable with deception.

It is a very short step from keeping secrets about abuse, mental illness or addiction … to lying.  

Often, others are afraid of association with someone who has these experiences, which supports keeping one’s silence. Or one feels judgement by others.

I was in my early 30’s before I realized that I could make a different choice. I was a liar. I lied in my childhood, my adolescence, and my early adulthood. When I had a memory of sexual abuse at the age of 34, a counselor advised me to believe myself and to speak my truth, not be silenced. There is a great deal more to this story, and probably mine are the stories I should be telling. For now I will say that one thing I learned pretty quickly is that lying existed in my family and I had picked up that pattern.

Most of us tend to follow the ways that have been shown to us in childhood.

The truth became a big deal to me. Once I embraced truth, I saw my children telling the truth more. I chose my friends by their honesty.

Without truth, one has no way to navigate one’s situation.

Without the truth, a person is missing pieces of the puzzle, and it is very difficult to be successful in one’s goals, or even to discern what those goals might be.

I chose to leave my first marriage because the truth had little meaning to my husband at the time, and eventually I developed the clarity and courage to choose a separate path.

Private sessions are offered in person and remotely by phone or video conference. Contact Annie to book a session, host a workshop, for sliding scale rates or to discuss barter arrangements.

Dirty Little Secrets

by 8hummingbirdway

I have been feeling paralyzed about sharing my family experience – which neccessarily includes my family members. Perhaps I am describing the individuals or what happened too thoroughly, or perhaps I should say “I know someone whose sister …,” or perhaps it is my presentation of being outside the trauma and looking in from a removed position.

Talking about my sister who is closest in age and was institutionalized, diagnosed, and has lived a life of challenge since then is telling an injury of my soul. Is it also compromising her privacy – even though nobody knows my maiden name or her first name or how to find her? She might not like it if I told her story publicly. I did not call and ask. My faraway sister in fact told me not to write about her and my response was that I get to tell about my life and she’s in it.

I have come to understand that keeping family secrets is a culturally approved choice.

Perhaps I am causing discomfort within others that are not even in the story by disrupting the status quo.

I feel strongly that keeping everything quiet is not a positive thing for people who have been traumatized, which includes most of us. Ok – that’s your opinion a voice within me says. Is it fair that you decide this for others?

The work I do involves healing of patterns and dynamics for those who have experienced trauma. I don’t think it would surprise very many people to know that most trauma is perpetrated by those closest to us: Mother, Father, Sibling, Husband, Wife and even Child. We are so afraid of the Stranger in this world, but the real harm, the deepest harm and betrayal generally comes from those we engage with regularly.

I am not making any statements about the intention of the injuring person. My focus here is on the person who is harmed.

Intentional trauma can be betrayal or untruth or physical harm. That pretty much covers it – but the range and variation of these themes are vast. Betrayal includes sexual use of a child by any mature (or maturing) individual. Untruth includes the pretense of kindness when one manipulates another. Physical harm can be “accidental,” perpetual, occasional, and of different degrees and types – to the point of regularly executed torture or sleep deprivation. These things go on in families. Between people who “love” each other.

Keeping the dirty little secrets of family is what we are expected to do. But it causes shame within. “This happened to me and I can’t ever talk about it because it’s shameful.” It’s a very small step from that place to carrying shame about oneself. People try to bury it, but it lingers. It steals your well-being, your self-love, your self-respect, your ability to speak up. It steals your ability to stand in your true self and apply your god-given wisdom and knowledge to your own life.

Keeping secrets also makes us comfortable with deception. It’s a very short step from not telling to lying. In fact, it’s not a step at all. Not telling about something that is pivotal to your wellbeing is lying. And we quickly learn not to tell. If we are not explicitly threatened with harm or the harm of someone else we love, the response of others teaches us quickly to keep it to ourselves. Most people truly do not want to hear about what happened to you. You are avoided or directly chastised as a liar or ridiculed and treated as less. That’s how the large majority of people respond. Because they are afraid of association with someone who has had these experiences.

Keeping secrets of this sort – secrets of harm done to you as a child or as a lover – are practices in our culture that have been established over time. These practices protect the perpetrator of those who hurt others weaker than them, even though those harmed would be justified in hoping/expecting to have the protection of the person who instead, is harming them.

Am I harming the people I love by telling the stories I am sharing?

I have more thinking to do.

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