When Sorry Loses Its Meaning

 

What is a person to do when someone else inflicts a traumatic action against you? I've asked myself this question over and over in my life. I've not been able to wrap my head around the actions of others who have overstepped boundaries and how they can change the life of another human being by their actions.

I'm speaking of course of my own childhood traumas. The one in particular that stands out the most and I have questioned why did it happen since I was just four years old. My Mom's cousin who was in his 20's followed me as a little girl of four years old into a restroom. Being only four years old, I tried to back out of the restroom when I saw him entering behind me, but he locked the door. He told me to go ahead and do what I needed to do. So I relieved myself and then proceeded to wash my hands and that's when my innocent life ended as I knew it. When I reflect back on the unpleasant memory, I can see every detail and remember everything that was done to me by this man. As an adult, I can reflect and imagine he probably sexually abused me for over 30 minutes. He then had me sit on the toilet again and told me to close my eyes and open my mouth. I did at first, but something told me to open them and that's when I saw what I saw and started screaming. I ran to the door with my clothes around my ankles and started screaming louder, until I could hear my uncles telling me to get away from the door. They knocked in the door and grabbed that man and took him out to the backyard. My Aunt looked at me and did a quick examination, then put my clothes on me and put me in her car. She just kept driving around. I don't remember much after that. However, I knew after a bit of time, all these people I didn't know kept asking me questions as to what happened. Eventually, my Mom and I were picked up by a police officer and he drove us to a courthouse. I remember sitting on my Aunt’s lap as the judge asked me questions. He asked me who was the man who did these bad things to me. I was able to identify the man sitting at a table across from me. And that's all I remember. Awhile later as I got older, I was told that man ended up going to jail and a mental hospital. I also remember asking my Mom, why did that man do that stuff to me? She told me about God, good and evil, but I really didn't understand. I also asked her why I was born.

I also found out that my Mom knew there would be a pedophile at my Abuelita's house that day. She had asked her Mom and my Aunt to be sure to keep an eye out for me and make sure that nothing happened to me that day. She had to work and relied on my Aunt and Abuelita to babysit me. However, as a Mother myself, I've often asked myself, "If my Mom knew there was a pedophile who was going to be present at that house, why did she allow me to be there?" I certainly would not have allowed my children near anyone like that. I never was told by anyone that they were sorry that such a horrific thing had happened to me. I was just going to move forward in life with this trauma in my past. As a Christian adult, at some point I decided to leave the past in the past as Jesus said. I also felt in my heart that I had to forgive what happened to me so that it wouldn't continue to fester in my soul and cause me harm both mentally and physically.

However, I've struggled with my Mom's decision to not have protected me at that time. It became more prevalent to me that there was a level of neglect when it came to me at a later time, when another close family member knew I had suffered sexual trauma when I was four years old and he, who was in his late 20's crossed the line and sexually molested me from 11 - 13 years old. One thing I hadn’t mentioned is that during these molestations, I never once opened my eyes (I prayed it would stop each time.) and pretended I was asleep as I was afraid of what I might see. The only time my eyes opened was when my Mom turned on the light and asked him what he was doing. Then I knew it was over. When this particular family member molested me, it was not reported to authorities, but instead I was taken to a family therapist to talk about what had occurred. This particular psychologist, even though a mandated reporter, also did not report it to authorities. I might add that the family member lied about the number of times he sexually abused me. All the adults justified what happened due to alcohol, even though I knew that alcohol was not a contributing factor for the majority of times I was abused. The psychologist told me that this particular family member was confused as to how to love me. (Can you believe that quack a doodle advice?) So life moved forward. I was asked by my Mother why I hadn't told her about what was happening to me. I told her a lot of my reasoning had to do with her mental state and what the results might be if I had told her.  I witnessed some unpleasantries when my Mom was a single parent and I didn't want those things repeated. But instead of helping me through the trauma, she told me that the reason why I hadn't told her was because I liked what was being done to me. I assured her that I did not and would pray every time it happened for it to stop. I even had gone to the extent of wearing five to six layers of clothing to try and deter it from happening, but it just kept happening. It was the most horrific thing I had to deal with as a preteen to teenager. Although I did get an apology from said family member, who informed me that I had exaggerated as to how many times it occurred and assured me it would never happen again. There was a level of forgiveness on my part, only because I knew things were not going to change for me household wise. I would be forced to live in the same residence until I became able to support myself and break away. There were changes made as to the vicinity of my bedroom etc., but the distrust was always there. I was never sexually or physically disciplined again by this family member. However, does one really forget about the trauma? As a person who lived it -- no, you cope with the betrayal and you have to release some form of forgiveness so it doesn't destroy you inside. You never forget.

After this event, I recognize now as an adult and how my family treated me that I was in fact the family scape goat. No matter what I did, nothing I did was ever good enough. A new abuse became a replacement and that was emotional abuse. I lived with it for 61 years. Oh yes, there were apologies, but then the word sorry started to lose its meaning with me. When someone truly is sorry for the hurts, you don't keep repeating the hurts, over and over again. Also, I know I have not been perfect in my life choices, but when family members keep bringing up your past and throwing at you to make you feel worthless, it started to destroy me. As a Christian, I had asked God for forgiveness of any transgressions I had done and I knew that I had been forgiven by God, but my family would never let me forget about my personal shortcomings and divorces. (Note: There is one of my ex husbands who I have regrets and know our divorce was hurtful to both of us -- I believe had we gotten counseling that was helpful in recognizing what I later learned in life regarding me, things may have been different. We have maintained being friends and have both taken responsibility. We asked for forgiveness from each other. I love this man very much. I actually enjoy seeing him and spending time with him whenever I'm down in that direction visiting my son.)  My Mom especially doesn't let me forget my past as she hangs on to her own -- she blamed me somehow for what the family member did to me. I finally at age 61 had to just walk away from the toxic behaviors and people involved and allow myself time to heal.

If you were to ask me if I am a forgiving person, I am and sometimes to a fault. I remember all the second, third, fourth, etc. chances I gave my husbands after they stepped out on our marriages. I would take them back after they expressed remorse and would apologize -- assuring me it wouldn't happen again. It would happen again, over and over again and finally I would just divorce them. Then I would have to reconcile with myself for hurting my children and myself in the process. God was always there by my side through it all. Jesus was always there to restore and pick me up.

At the age of 65, I finally have peace -- peace like I have never known. I have grown children and grandchildren who love me very much. I have many family members and friends who love me as well. I have a best friend and life companion to grow old with. I made a decision in my life to just let people who are uplifting into my circle. Living in dysfunction and drama is too exhausting and unhealthy. I no longer want any part of it. My purpose is to live for God through Jesus Christ and to share my testimony in the hopes that it might bring hope and encouragement to anyone who is reading it. As I've gotten older, I am finding that spending time in devotion, biblical studies and prayer is essential to maintaining peace and balance in my life. I also love giving and serving where it is needed. I can honestly say that even through these dark situations, God has pulled me through and I am abundantly blessed -- blessed far more than I deserve.

Matthew 18: 21 "Then Peter came to Him and said, "Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? Up to seven times?" Jesus said to him, "I do not say to you, up to seven times, but up to seventy times seven."