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The Power of YOU is a collection of written stories by survivors of childhood sexual abuse.
EmpowerSurvivors believes that by sharing our stories of childhood sexual abuse and recovery we begin to lose the grip shame can have on us.
It is also a way to reach other survivors who may be living in silence and have never heard someone else's story of abuse, healing, and wellness.
share your story by submitting up to a one-page entry ( 500 words) that includes an overview of your experience of childhood sexual abuse, the recovery process, and healing. Entries can remain anonymous. Entries can be emailed to Elizabeth Sullivan at [email protected]
EmpowerSurvivors will not alter your story in any way and will publish it exactly as you submitted it.
EmpowerSurvivors believes that by sharing our stories of childhood sexual abuse and recovery we begin to lose the grip shame can have on us.
It is also a way to reach other survivors who may be living in silence and have never heard someone else's story of abuse, healing, and wellness.
share your story by submitting up to a one-page entry ( 500 words) that includes an overview of your experience of childhood sexual abuse, the recovery process, and healing. Entries can remain anonymous. Entries can be emailed to Elizabeth Sullivan at [email protected]
EmpowerSurvivors will not alter your story in any way and will publish it exactly as you submitted it.
The school year that changed my life started off strangely. My best friend had just moved over 300 miles away, and I missed her. It was the first time I went to school without her. All of the upper elementary teachers were new to the school, so I had no idea what to expect from my new teacher. She looked kind of like a linebacker, and the entire class exploded with whispered speculations. I was a bit afraid of her and started feeling more anxious.
She fixated on me instantly, and the other children noticed. She immediately began touching my body: resting her hand on mine, touching my cheek, and more. She called me her little girl, her little sweetheart, her baby girl, etc. She used attachment techniques to form a bond. Her grooming escalated, and within a few weeks she’d shattered my innocence and forever changed my brain, body, DNA, and life. She molested me hundreds of times over the course of the school year, keeping me in when she could from recesses, lunch, specials, etc. She told everyone I was her “teacher’s assistant” and she was mentoring me because I wanted to be a teacher.
The next school year, I realized she could be hurting another little girl, so I told on her. The police callously and erroneously told me a woman wouldn’t molest a girl. They chose not to ask the questions they would have if she had been a man or do the investigation they would have if she had been a man. My parents and extended family believed and supported me, and my parents put me in therapy. When the abuser got away with the sexual and other abuse, she and her enablers retaliated against me until I moved over 1,000 miles away after my first year in college.
Although I participated in therapy after I told, therapy for sexual abuse survivors was still rather new. There was a lot the psychologist did that she should not have and did not do that she should have. I buried the worst memories, then buried other memories, and I felt silenced again. For the next several decades, I rarely shared that I was molested.
My abuser died. Almost nine months ago, she started appearing in my dreams and apologizing for abusing me. I realized then that I had more healing to do. I’m on the healing journey, and I’m making great progress. I have a ways to go still. It’s like assembling a puzzle when a hundred puzzles are mixed together, and the one I’m assembling has half a picture, damaged pieces, and missing pieces. I will persevere, and I will move from survivor to thriver.
-Donna 2023
She fixated on me instantly, and the other children noticed. She immediately began touching my body: resting her hand on mine, touching my cheek, and more. She called me her little girl, her little sweetheart, her baby girl, etc. She used attachment techniques to form a bond. Her grooming escalated, and within a few weeks she’d shattered my innocence and forever changed my brain, body, DNA, and life. She molested me hundreds of times over the course of the school year, keeping me in when she could from recesses, lunch, specials, etc. She told everyone I was her “teacher’s assistant” and she was mentoring me because I wanted to be a teacher.
The next school year, I realized she could be hurting another little girl, so I told on her. The police callously and erroneously told me a woman wouldn’t molest a girl. They chose not to ask the questions they would have if she had been a man or do the investigation they would have if she had been a man. My parents and extended family believed and supported me, and my parents put me in therapy. When the abuser got away with the sexual and other abuse, she and her enablers retaliated against me until I moved over 1,000 miles away after my first year in college.
Although I participated in therapy after I told, therapy for sexual abuse survivors was still rather new. There was a lot the psychologist did that she should not have and did not do that she should have. I buried the worst memories, then buried other memories, and I felt silenced again. For the next several decades, I rarely shared that I was molested.
My abuser died. Almost nine months ago, she started appearing in my dreams and apologizing for abusing me. I realized then that I had more healing to do. I’m on the healing journey, and I’m making great progress. I have a ways to go still. It’s like assembling a puzzle when a hundred puzzles are mixed together, and the one I’m assembling has half a picture, damaged pieces, and missing pieces. I will persevere, and I will move from survivor to thriver.
-Donna 2023
-For me, it was my stepfather. He had lived with us since I was two years old. I grew up with physical, emotional/mental, and sexual abuse from the age of 7 or 8. Some memories are still surfacing. My stepfather was a raging alcoholic. A Jekyll and Hyde type of guy. I walked on eggshells my whole life. He started molesting me after my brother went into the Navy. He knew I had no one to protect me anymore. I never told anyone about the molestation because they wouldn’t do anything about it. I knew this because even though they knew about the physical abuse, they didn’t do anything about that either. No one called the police or reported it in any way. Ever.
He continued until I was 18 and went to college. I went as far away as I could, which was only a couple of hours away, but it was far enough. I then turned to alcohol, drugs, and sex but didn’t know why. I would get so angry when I got drunk that I would want to fight. I was raped while in college and it was one of those nights, so I blamed myself. I lost friends but those who stuck by me are still in my life today. I realized that I was suppressing a lifetime of hurt and abuse and that was the only coping mechanism I knew. I eventually met a good man and settled down, stopped drinking and drugs, got married, and had two boys. The best thing that happened to me was meeting my husband. I am so grateful for him and my two boys. They are the reason I live.
I fought the healing process every day until I got so bad with depression that I found myself on my knees praying for God to do something, anything to stop the pain. I prayed for him to take me. That was the moment I decided I needed to start therapy. I started going and found a great therapist, but she wasn’t equipped to deal with trauma, so she referred me to a colleague of hers. This was the best move I ever made. I have come so far in my healing, one, because I found a great trauma therapist, and two, because I allowed myself to start feeling and letting people in. That vulnerability is something I still work on today.
I have had some bad downs, but I have always found my way back up with the support of a select few, my therapist and this group. This group has been a lifeline and helped me grow not just in the support of others but with the education that is shared here as well. I am so grateful for all the positives in my life and for the path that has brought me here. I used to worry that I didn’t have a purpose here on earth, but I think mine is the journey. All the hard work is worth it. And it is hard, but if you keep with it and really practice your tools, you can move through the healing process and one day see just how far you have come.
-Dee 2023
He continued until I was 18 and went to college. I went as far away as I could, which was only a couple of hours away, but it was far enough. I then turned to alcohol, drugs, and sex but didn’t know why. I would get so angry when I got drunk that I would want to fight. I was raped while in college and it was one of those nights, so I blamed myself. I lost friends but those who stuck by me are still in my life today. I realized that I was suppressing a lifetime of hurt and abuse and that was the only coping mechanism I knew. I eventually met a good man and settled down, stopped drinking and drugs, got married, and had two boys. The best thing that happened to me was meeting my husband. I am so grateful for him and my two boys. They are the reason I live.
I fought the healing process every day until I got so bad with depression that I found myself on my knees praying for God to do something, anything to stop the pain. I prayed for him to take me. That was the moment I decided I needed to start therapy. I started going and found a great therapist, but she wasn’t equipped to deal with trauma, so she referred me to a colleague of hers. This was the best move I ever made. I have come so far in my healing, one, because I found a great trauma therapist, and two, because I allowed myself to start feeling and letting people in. That vulnerability is something I still work on today.
I have had some bad downs, but I have always found my way back up with the support of a select few, my therapist and this group. This group has been a lifeline and helped me grow not just in the support of others but with the education that is shared here as well. I am so grateful for all the positives in my life and for the path that has brought me here. I used to worry that I didn’t have a purpose here on earth, but I think mine is the journey. All the hard work is worth it. And it is hard, but if you keep with it and really practice your tools, you can move through the healing process and one day see just how far you have come.
-Dee 2023
At the age of 57, I have finally learned two terms that name some of my childhood experiences.
One term is non-state torture (see https://nonstatetorture.org/), and the other is child trafficking.
Starting while I was still in diapers, my mom, who I believe suffers from untreated mental illness, angrily shoved objects into my body at diaper change time. My dad waited to molest me until I was three. It started out like a game, but soon enough it became overwhelming. When I was four, they started sharing me with other adults they knew. These people often acted in groups, raping and torturing children and animals. The group situation lasted until I was about 9, and my family moved away. Thereafter, it was back to what I call ‘garden variety incest,’ although I guess it wasn’t really typical because both my parents took their turn with me. I never managed to tell anyone what was happening. I literally didn’t know the words and was too scared anyway. I always had a person or two who I knew cared about me, though. I always knew Love loved me.
The Start of Recovery
At the start of my junior year of high school, my family finally blew up. My parents divorced. My mom hadn’t worked in decades and was not functioning, and my dad had found a new spouse, so those of us kids who were still minors were deposited in an apartment to fend for ourselves. Honestly, it was a relief. We finally got to do what we wanted! However, during this time, I began struggling with alcohol -- once I started drinking, I couldn’t stop. The next few years were spent learning by experience about addiction and self-medication. I ultimately decided I would stay sober if it killed me (I really thought it might.)
Healing
In my early 20’s, having been sober for a few years, I began grappling with the effects of my childhood, experiencing severe flashbacks and triggers. I have known some marvelous allies over the years. First Win, then Lucy, then Dianne, and most recently Signe. The two most critical factors in my healing have been honesty no matter what, and love.
For most of my life I have been deeply private about my childhood, feeling like I just wanted a regular healthy life. But my childhood experience is part of my life, and during the past few years, I have begun to really value interacting with other survivors and allies. It’s so consoling when other survivors can relate to me! And I LOVE showing solidarity to someone who is trying to take their life back.
I’m sharing my story to express solidarity with people who have experiences like mine and to educate people who would like to be our allies.
-Rachel 2023
One term is non-state torture (see https://nonstatetorture.org/), and the other is child trafficking.
Starting while I was still in diapers, my mom, who I believe suffers from untreated mental illness, angrily shoved objects into my body at diaper change time. My dad waited to molest me until I was three. It started out like a game, but soon enough it became overwhelming. When I was four, they started sharing me with other adults they knew. These people often acted in groups, raping and torturing children and animals. The group situation lasted until I was about 9, and my family moved away. Thereafter, it was back to what I call ‘garden variety incest,’ although I guess it wasn’t really typical because both my parents took their turn with me. I never managed to tell anyone what was happening. I literally didn’t know the words and was too scared anyway. I always had a person or two who I knew cared about me, though. I always knew Love loved me.
The Start of Recovery
At the start of my junior year of high school, my family finally blew up. My parents divorced. My mom hadn’t worked in decades and was not functioning, and my dad had found a new spouse, so those of us kids who were still minors were deposited in an apartment to fend for ourselves. Honestly, it was a relief. We finally got to do what we wanted! However, during this time, I began struggling with alcohol -- once I started drinking, I couldn’t stop. The next few years were spent learning by experience about addiction and self-medication. I ultimately decided I would stay sober if it killed me (I really thought it might.)
Healing
In my early 20’s, having been sober for a few years, I began grappling with the effects of my childhood, experiencing severe flashbacks and triggers. I have known some marvelous allies over the years. First Win, then Lucy, then Dianne, and most recently Signe. The two most critical factors in my healing have been honesty no matter what, and love.
For most of my life I have been deeply private about my childhood, feeling like I just wanted a regular healthy life. But my childhood experience is part of my life, and during the past few years, I have begun to really value interacting with other survivors and allies. It’s so consoling when other survivors can relate to me! And I LOVE showing solidarity to someone who is trying to take their life back.
I’m sharing my story to express solidarity with people who have experiences like mine and to educate people who would like to be our allies.
-Rachel 2023