On Being a Sexual Abuse Survivor...

WARNING: Those who were bummed out by my depressing article "Just Another Day in Life" might find this article even more demure. That's because it is. But it is a topic I needed to write about. So here goes nothing.

Being a child born in a country which is as densely populated as India just multiplies your chances of being sexually abused. In fact, I believe that as much as 95% of kids today face some form of sexual abuse or the other. Do you want to know why I am assuming such a huge percentage? That's because most of my peers who felt comfortable enough with me to share their woes, told me that it had happened to them. In some cases, it was just some neighbor "uncle" touching them inappropriately and in other cases, it was more horrid than that. A girl I knew had confessed to having been raped between the age of six to nine by five different men, most of whom were either related to her or were close family friends.

I myself faced abuse at the hands of a teenage guy my dad had taken in when I was seven years old. He was "experimenting". Even today, thinking about that time brings me shame and gets me jittery. I still can't write about it as openly as I write about other stuff. Even my wife doesn't know the whole detail of what I went through as a child. The fact is that even though I have put those horrible memories behind me, they still affect me as a person. In a way, these experiences have played a part in shaping my personality for what it is today. I have always had a tough time making guy friends because of what happened to me way back in '97. Apart from that, I have had a somewhat confused sexual identity.

In fact, the only way I managed to lead a normal life was by compartmentalizing my feelings in a big way. And that led to me being perceived as "weird", "aloof" and sometimes "goofy". The biggest challenge was dealing with the abuse when it was happening. It was painful and traumatizing and to cope with it, I had to device a method to make it less so. I remember having convinced myself that it was all under my control and that I was making it happen. Sadly, that is the only way I managed to make it bearable, by believing that I was actually enjoying it.

And that coping mechanism made things worse as it brought with it shame and guilt. Shame and guilt that I had no reason to have, being a victim. It affected almost every one of my relationships. It affected my behavior towards people in general. For example, I have never been able to express affection to my grandparents in words. When my grandfather was in his last stage of life, I was the one who took care of him and it surprised my grandmother because until that point, she believed that I wasn't capable of caring that much.

In the years following my abuse, I had to train myself to be a certain way around people. Sometimes, I'd feel like my behavior was becoming effeminate and I'd start acting more "macho" to compensate for the behavior, which I attributed to being residual effects of my trauma. I never got used to people's touch. Even to this day, I am not fully comfortable with anyone I am not close to touching me.

I have read so many articles regarding this. I have spent so much time trying to understand how it affected me. And I have incurred so much pain hearing about other people who went through similar forms of torture. I have tried to create awareness regarding this through anonymous articles I have written on online support forums over the years. In fact, if you remember, I have dedicated a few earlier articles to the same cause. 

Throwing it out there, talking about it, talking about how it affected me has helped over the years. It doesn't actually change anything. It just brings a little relief with it. Sometimes you just need someone else to tell you that it is okay. Sometimes, when someone else tells you that it wasn't your fault, you believe it. And things feel alright for sometime.

I had a fantasy when I was younger. I wanted to adopt a little girl all by myself and give her a completely safe upbringing. Of course, I grew up, became more cynical and stopped harboring such idyllic ideas. I still believe that each and every child deserves an abuse-free childhood. 

So I urge people from my generation to be more aware and attentive of their little ones. And more importantly, be there for your kids, make them comfortable enough with you to share if something has happened to them. Give them the right care, make them feel safe. Only that can pave the way for a generation of more secure and well balanced individual. God knows we are in dire need of those.