Category Archives: Child sexual abuse

three cheers for time mag’s 2017 “person of the year” choice…

There I am on the cover of Time magazine… ūüėģ Well, not literally but, for all practical purposes:¬† that cover image¬†feels like a representation of all of us who have broken the silence,¬†and, me?¬† I am, a¬†lonnng-time silence-breaker. It has … Continue reading

Posted in Adult Survivors of Child Sexual Abuse, Child sexual abuse, Healing from child sexual abuse, Healing from rape, Healing from sexual assault | Leave a comment

hard chain to break

I’m single.¬† Not in a relationship.¬† (For, years and, years.)¬† So, my son has urged me to try online dating avenues. This is the thing. What being sexually abused as a child does to a woman… — What being sexually … Continue reading

Posted in Child sexual abuse, Family history, Healing from child sexual abuse, Healing from rape, Healing from sexual assault, Pedophiles, PTSD, Rape, Sexual assault | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

“all he thinks about is sex,” complains my aunt to me one day

I’m 13; and, we’ve¬†returned from Memphis; and, we are living¬†with my mom’s sister Tanis¬†& her three kids-still-at-home; and, Aunt Tanis & my father¬†take an afternoon drive¬†one day¬†to return saying, they’ve married; and, a month?, two months? later,¬†my aunt¬†more sensibly¬†gives¬†my father¬†the … Continue reading

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little brides of Christ & the girl in the basement

I went to a Catholic school called Blessed Sacrament in first and second grades.¬† I loved it.¬† I¬†don’t have any of¬†the¬†mean-nun¬†memories so joked about.¬† The only scary part for me was when we were to have our first communion, be … Continue reading

Posted in Child abuse, Child sexual abuse, Dissociative identity disorder (DID), Family history, Pedophiles | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

paul

When we moved from the the big two-story house on Knickerbocker Street to the smaller ranch-style house on Caldy Place, our huge dining table was relegated to the Caldy basement. There was no way that dining table could fit in … Continue reading

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can’t remember the first time my father molested me/can’t forget the last

I cannot remember the first time my father molested me,¬†just as I cannot forget¬†the last. I remember two “last times,” actually, unless they are both part of the same, one.¬† Dissociatively, I “see” both memories¬†in snapshot format, or, “brief video … Continue reading

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memphis, part 4 of 4

Next stop, the duplex on the corner, about a mile & a half from Graceland, empty lot filled with dandelions across the street, blacktopped street in front. Where my sisters would completely stop being my sisters and become instead,¬†helpless zombies … Continue reading

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