A weekend of childhood sexual abuse
Nov. 5th, 2005 10:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
apparentparadoxWe didn't really plan it that way, but this has been the weekend of childhood sexual abuse.
Last night, we watched Mysterious Skin, and today we went to SJ Rep's production of "The Tricky Part". Both shows dealt with childhood sexual abuse, and how it affects the child for many years -- even if the child seemed to want what happened. In fact, one of the interesting things that Martin Moran (the writer & actor in "The Tricky Part") says that was hard to deal with was his own complicity in the acts. Some part of him did love the attention and what went on, and he had to come to terms with his own involvement in it before he could reach any true self-healing. He was very clear to say that the abuse was wrong -- that as a child he had no consent to give. He was just relating that he needed to process all the feelings surrounding the events in order to come to terms and move beyond the past.
One parallel in the two shows was a feeling that the child had been betrayed by his parents: that they didn't protect him in some way. Martin addresses that by saying that as an adult, one has to accept that one's parents are people, and that they do not have god-like powers, and that they sometimes make mistakes. [In neither case was the parent at all involved in the abuse, but, rather, the child felt like the parent should have protected him because parents are supposed to keep you safe.]
This notion of "my parents are people" is something that I've been working on for a long time. I'd like to think that I've accepted that my parents are humans, and that the mistakes they made weren't malicious. Looking at my mother as a person, and watching how she has grown and changed make me admire her much more than I ever did before. I don't agree with all her decisions, but her strength of character and her compassion are awe-inspiring.
I wish I could say the same about my father, but I realize that I just don't like my father. If I met my father as a stranger, I wouldn't want to include him in my life. He's chosen to exclude me from his life for the past few years, so it really isn't an issue right now. However, if he changes his mind, and decides that he wants a relationship with me, I'm really not sure what I will do. Years ago, I would have said that I wanted to make him feel all my pain before I could ever consider a relationship. Not too long ago, I would have just walked away as if he didn't exist, not even giving him a chance.
It's somewhat strange to me to feel that I don't have to make a decision or plan for that event -- that I can wait to see who I am on that day, and who he is, and then make a decision.
Last night, we watched Mysterious Skin, and today we went to SJ Rep's production of "The Tricky Part". Both shows dealt with childhood sexual abuse, and how it affects the child for many years -- even if the child seemed to want what happened. In fact, one of the interesting things that Martin Moran (the writer & actor in "The Tricky Part") says that was hard to deal with was his own complicity in the acts. Some part of him did love the attention and what went on, and he had to come to terms with his own involvement in it before he could reach any true self-healing. He was very clear to say that the abuse was wrong -- that as a child he had no consent to give. He was just relating that he needed to process all the feelings surrounding the events in order to come to terms and move beyond the past.
One parallel in the two shows was a feeling that the child had been betrayed by his parents: that they didn't protect him in some way. Martin addresses that by saying that as an adult, one has to accept that one's parents are people, and that they do not have god-like powers, and that they sometimes make mistakes. [In neither case was the parent at all involved in the abuse, but, rather, the child felt like the parent should have protected him because parents are supposed to keep you safe.]
This notion of "my parents are people" is something that I've been working on for a long time. I'd like to think that I've accepted that my parents are humans, and that the mistakes they made weren't malicious. Looking at my mother as a person, and watching how she has grown and changed make me admire her much more than I ever did before. I don't agree with all her decisions, but her strength of character and her compassion are awe-inspiring.
I wish I could say the same about my father, but I realize that I just don't like my father. If I met my father as a stranger, I wouldn't want to include him in my life. He's chosen to exclude me from his life for the past few years, so it really isn't an issue right now. However, if he changes his mind, and decides that he wants a relationship with me, I'm really not sure what I will do. Years ago, I would have said that I wanted to make him feel all my pain before I could ever consider a relationship. Not too long ago, I would have just walked away as if he didn't exist, not even giving him a chance.
It's somewhat strange to me to feel that I don't have to make a decision or plan for that event -- that I can wait to see who I am on that day, and who he is, and then make a decision.