So this is my story. I don’t like talking about it and that is one of the reasons why I’m doing this. I guess I’m hoping it will be therapeutic in some way. That’s enough stalling let’s get down to it.
I was sexually abused in my childhood. I’ve said that sentence so many times that in the past I almost felt numb to it. However, I’m starting to feel what that sentence actually means and how bad that sentence is. I remember four occasions in particular but perhaps there were more, I can’t remember – that’s the thing about your brain it will repress anything it needs to protect you. Unfortunately you need to go to the root of that repression, unearth, feel it and deal with it. That’s the hard part.
No one knew until my ex fiancé made me tell my parents six years ago. What makes this situation that much harder and that much more painful is that the person who abused me is a family member. Hence, the need to hide it for so long.
Because of the abuse, I suffered with a mountain of mental health problems, which ended up with a diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder earlier this year. Discussing mental health within the Indian community is like getting blood out of a stone. It’s ignored and is thought to be a figment of your imagination.
Even after telling my parents I didn’t feel comforted or loved, they continued to ostracize me and I felt more alone than ever. When they didn’t know about the abuse, I told myself they couldn’t help because they weren’t aware. Once they did know they still didn’t help and I couldn’t find any excuse for their lack of empathy. Of course it must be hard for them given who the perpetrator is but even then, I couldn’t help but think: “what about my feelings?”
I’ve had to help myself growing up and I didn’t do a great job. I associated myself with some very toxic men and got into a few mentally abusive relationships. My self esteem and self worth were so low I believed that I deserved to be treated badly because that was what was familiar to me. It’s only through therapy, countless hours of reflection, my blog and continuous trial and error I am slowly realizing that what happened wasn’t my fault and I didn’t deserve what happened to me. I also deserve to be treated with love and respect by everyone in my life, men and women alike.
Instead of looking at what I don’t have or didn’t accomplish I am grateful for what I do have and how far I have come. I’m still learning every day and I hope one day that I can become a motivational speaker and help those who may be in a similar position to me. I can only pray that by sharing my story others may not feel as alone.
Here’s to us, the damaged but never broken. May you continue to hold your beautiful head up high and get through the days as best as you can until you can learn to thrive instead of just survive.
If you like my style of writing – I’m normally a lot more humorous – please check out my blog as well as follow me on Twitter and Instagram!