How is it that we know?

I was thinking last night about the abuse I suffered, and that which other people suffered. The one thing I notice in common with many of those cases, if not all, is that we all knew something was definitely wrong. From the first time the Monster made me touch him throughout all the times he came into my room at night, I knew something was wrong. I could sense that it was wrong. Not just because I felt violated, though I’m sure that’s a large part of it. I also knew, instinctively, that what we were doing wasn’t right.

That’s an unfortunate part of Knowing. Because we know what’s going on is wrong, but we have no instinctual cue explaining to us that what THEY are doing is the depraved and disgusting wrong, not what we have been violated with.

Now and then I wonder if I had been less friendly to him, seemed less comfortable with him, etc, maybe he wouldn’t have done that to me. I wonder how I could have prevented it. Knowing that it was wrong did nothing to alleviate his power over me, but knowing did have the effect of making me feel more shameful and guilty about it. Over on Reasons You Shouldn’t Fuck Kids, Butterfly made a good point. It wasn’t my job to stop it. It was his. It wouldn’t matter if I ran around naked screaming “Fuck me!” it would still have been his job not to fuck me. Someday I’ll figure out how to make links, and ask Butterfly if I can link to that. It’s a powerful entry.

I suppose that’s the problem with knowing. We know something is wrong, and what is being done to us is evil. But our instincts fail to give us perspective as to who is wrong, and never tell us that we are innocent. So we suffer with not only the fear and the triggers and the pain of what the monsters do to us, but also the crippling guilt of having done it even though we knew something was wrong.

I suppose the thing I can take from this is that when I have children, I will tell them that if something feels wrong, run away. If they are with someone who makes them uncomfortable for any reason, they should run away and tell someone no matter what. And I will tell them that whatever feels wrong, it is not their fault.


~ by oniongirl13 on April 6, 2009.

3 Responses to “Knowing”

  1. I agree with you – I, too, felt it was wrong and bad the whole time it was happening. It wasn’t because anyone told me it was bad – I mean, I was so little, there was never opportunity to know about bad and good in those terms – I just knew intrinsically that it felt bad.

    I think the most disgusting thing that people who fuck kids say to themselves and anyone else who will listen is that it doesn’t really do any damage to children, and also that some children want it. This is the purest of bullshit, in my opinion.

    • Regarding that ridiculous myth of kids liking it…

      Before my abuse, I “played doctor” with a neighborhood boy. This, more than anything, provided me with a foundation of what DIDN’T feel wrong, what WASN’T wrong with sexuality. I -liked- that, but that was with a boy my own age, and that was innocent exploration.

      But there is NOTHING okay about adults being with children. They should be our allies, our protectors, and our authority figures. Not the person who violates, takes advantage of, or exploits us.

  2. The child becomes the repositor of the abuser’s blame and shame. Even knowing that takes such a long time to heal from. I only wish that it were easier for us all.

    I knew it was wrong. My soul knew it was wrong. It was disgusting and sickening to be used for someone’s sick pleasure. It was their job to not abuse. It wasn’t my job to say no.

    We don’t expect women who are being raped to be able to get away and cry for help, but we judge ourselves so harshly by expecting that a little child was supposed to do that and more with someone who lived with them, with a parent, with a sibling. It’s not our job to get free from abuse. We are little children. It is our job to be a child.

    Thank you for this post.

    Good and healing thoughts to you.


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