Blizzard
The following post is from my friend Brian. Sometimes, we need a safe harbor to let the demons of our pasts out and into the ether. You’ve always been that safe harbor for me, and I hope you will be the same for him. He asks that you comment on this post here and not his blog. However, I encourage you to visit his blog and be enchanted with his heart. Kindness on this post is not only asked for, it is expected.
Blizzard
I saw him recently. Clean shaven for a change. Hair cropped close and receding. His voice booming as he drew numbers and rattled them off during the gift exchange. His laughter infectious. We exchanged surface pleasantries about work and family. Ate greasy chicken, homemade noodles with beef, and store-bought pie. Went our separate ways for another year.
I’ve often wondered if he remembers The Great Blizzard of 1978. Not the snow but the little things. How we spent an eternity shoveling snow from around the front of my dad’s hunter orange Scout with the chains on the tires so he could fetch groceries for the elderly neighbors. How we carved out snow angels with our bodies and pummeled each other with snowballs in the back yard of the small house with the lath and plaster walls that my parents rented for a year.
The year he and I lived on the same street.
I wonder if he remembers other little things. Like the sunny afternoon he spent looking after me and my two sisters. I was nine and naïve. They were seven and six and innocent. He was fourteen and convincing. He told us it would be fun to watch us take off our clothes and roll around on the floor wrapped up in patches of old carpet. He took out his penis, wagged it around like some great thing, and then showed us how people lie down on mattresses with the lights off and the curtains drawn and put it between a woman’s legs. He’s to my right, on his back, with my sister on top, his penis sliding atop her buttocks. I am on top of my other sister, doing my best to penetrate, listening to him cheer me on. Perhaps it’s a small blessing that I cannot recall which sister was which.
I remember no “Don’t tell your parents!” speech. I don’t remember anything similar ever happening again. But I can easily recall many incidents since that time where inappropriate sexual advances occurred. Amidst Barbie dolls and pink pillows, I forced my youngest sister to snuggle on the bed with me as I kissed her. Sitting in the living room during an evening home alone, I manipulated my other sister into show me her breasts when she was in middle school. They were the easy targets of my misplaced affections. Other conquests were purely mental. Girls were objects to be ogled in person and later smooth-talked and bedded alone, in the privacy of my bunk bed. When I finally met someone demanding to be more than just an airbrushed image in a magazine, I nearly sabotaged it all with my wanton and fumbling dorm-room advances.
Experts agree that while many sexually-abused children turn their confusion inward, others become abusers themselves. Did I become an abuser? My sisters don’t think so. We talked about these things several years ago. I wept as I apologized for my actions, and they assured me that I was not a monster. They live close, say that they love me, and welcome my hugs. But in their eyes, as though through a blindingly dark snowfall, I see a lingering pain.
And I look at my own daughters. For years I lived with the notion that God would never bless me with girls. Believed it with my whole heart. And now I spend sleepless nights fearing that someone will touch them. Someone like me, who learned too young and yet knew so little. I am teaching them where to kick, and to kick hard. To yell and scream. Yet I’m achingly aware that doing such things work to foil only the stupidest of predators. And how they can seem so inappropriate until it’s too late. So I’m trying to be the kind of man they’ll be drawn to. Someone who will look beyond their beauty and see the treasure inside.
I wonder if memories ever fade. If guilt ever recedes. Like a blizzard in the Heartland . . .
September 7th, 2009 at 12:52 am
It’s not often that I am rendered speechless. I can’t imagine how you feel. But, B…you are a good dad. You are a good person. You did not pass this along to your kids.
I would encourage you to get some counseling about this, to properly deal with what your sisters have forgiven. It is time to forgive you, too.
September 7th, 2009 at 6:37 am
Thanks, my friend. You are a kindred spirit and a kind soul.
September 7th, 2009 at 7:15 am
I was assaulted by a doctor at work and it took me years to stop being angry at both myself and him. Since that time, I have done a lot of reading and have come to an understanding that sexual abusers learn to abuse by being abused themselves. Sex addicts have often been sexually abused as well.
Most importantly though, is the understanding that we all human, all looking for love and all connected. I forgave the doctor and even feel compassion for him now. He caused me pain but he feels pain as well.
A father is the first man to hold his daughter’s heart in his hands, love them and accept them as they are. That is the greatest gift a parent can give a child.
September 7th, 2009 at 8:20 am
The hardest and most urgent thing to be done is to forgive yourself. Sharing here takes you therebut there is that leap of faith that only you can make.
September 7th, 2009 at 8:21 am
…you aare worthy of and deserve your own forgiveness
September 7th, 2009 at 9:18 am
I wonder if there are places where people grow up happy and safe and smart about sex? I would sure love to find out what that society is like, because ours makes it so hard to have honest, healthy relationships.
I’m glad you talked to your sisters, Brian. That is so important. And I’m glad you are honest about your past. I think Flutter is right – some therapy may help you to get some perspective and to free yourself from this. You deserve to have a happy life.
September 7th, 2009 at 9:27 am
Wow, Brian. Thanks for sharing. Show some of your amazing compassion towards yourself, because you deserve it. You can blog on any topic you need to at my place, too. And keep nurturing the self-esteem and confidence in your girls.
September 7th, 2009 at 10:30 am
I’m really not sure what to say… and it’s not often I’m speechless. You come across as an amazingly forgiving and compassionate person – yet seem incapable of showing forgiveness and compassion to yourself.
The fact that you’ve spoken out here, that you’ve asked for forgiveness from your sisters, which must have been one of the hardest things you’ve ever done in your life – shows that you are NOT a monster.
I think it’s a wonderful thing that you have daughters – because you are more than capable of being the father that they need. A girl learns her self worth from her father, and you can give them that. You can also give them the knowledge and strength to protect themselves. I can’t imagine them growing up, feeling like they have no worth, no value, when you’re so obviously teaching them that they do. And that? Is one of the greatest gifts a man can give his daughter, especially in the society we live in today.
Thank you so much for sharing this…
September 7th, 2009 at 1:41 pm
Brian, if you are able to write this, you are ready to forgive yourself, and to ease up on some of your fears. I don’t know you, but I can hear the goodness in the writing.
September 7th, 2009 at 4:21 pm
Brian, nothing I can write here will tell you just how much I admire your courage and inherent integrity, not to mention how technically exquisite this piece of writing is. This had to be an incredibly hard piece to write, much less to publish, and I applaud you for having the cahones to air out your spiritual house. I hope that in letting this out you can forgive yourself and begin to heal. This post changes nothing for me; you are and will always be my twin brother of the heart and I love you, just as you are.
September 7th, 2009 at 4:42 pm
you were a child trying to navigate in the world, that is all. your sister know that. let them love you and love your self, too.
and this piece, your writing–amazing.
September 7th, 2009 at 5:35 pm
I have worked with sexual predators and my worries are very similar to yours. I believe our best shield is encouraging open and spontaneous communication with our kids. That they can talk to us about anything without fear of condemnation, without fear of punishment or rejection. Explaining to kids that their bodies belong to them and them alone. But like you, I know that we cannot fully protect our kids from a wily predator. It’s a frightening reality.
Aside from that, I hope you know and accept that you were a kid and a victim. Period.
It’s encouraging that you talk to your sisters about it and express your remorse. They believe you are sorry and are willing to put it behind them. I hope you will do the same. Get counseling if you find this too difficult to do so on your own.
September 7th, 2009 at 6:31 pm
Shit, Brian, you pulled the carpet out from under me. I didn’t expect this. Neither did you.
I’ve got only love and understanding, appreciation for your thoughfulness at discussing this with your sisters, and an open dialogue I hope you’re engaging in with your daughters. There is no magic right. But there is magic in trying.
September 8th, 2009 at 1:37 am
Brian, you are so strong, and your courage in sharing all of this takes my breath away. I agree with the others…it’s time to forgive yourself. I admire you so much for telling this story, and you have my deepest compassion, both for the man you are now and for the boy you were then. I hope you can show the same compassion to yourself. You’ve made a huge step toward that here, I think.
September 8th, 2009 at 5:36 am
God has already forgiven you. You have to forgive yourself. Redemption doesn’t come form some outward source, it comes from you believing you are worthy of the air you breathe, the breaths you take.
I don’t know if your guilt will lessen. I don’t know if the memories will go away. I do know that you can choose love over fear. You can choose to live the life you want and deserve. Forgive yourself. Be a good father. Love yourself and let not your heart be troubled. Live with a full heart.
September 8th, 2009 at 8:18 am
I think you should listen to your sisters. They understand the difference between the actions of a child and the actions of a man. What you have illustrated, frighteningly well, is how easy it is to get children to cooperate with just about anything.
September 8th, 2009 at 10:05 am
Thank you, to Christine for hosting this, and for all of you who left such encouraging and insightful comments.
Forgiving oneself is more than half the battle . . .
September 8th, 2009 at 11:47 am
Forgiving oneself is always the hardest thing to do. I’m so sorry. Living with this burden must be excruciating sometimes.
September 8th, 2009 at 2:30 pm
As the mother of a nine-year-old and six-year-old, I can’t breathe right now…literally can’t get a full breath. It’s not that you imparted anything I didn’t know happens in the world; it’s that you put such a fragile human face on it.
That you spoke to your sisters and looked it face on with them speaks to your character. Wow.
September 8th, 2009 at 2:49 pm
Oh, Brian.
First of all you are INCREDIBLY brave.
Second, you are in no way alone. I have heard so many similar stories, so many.
Finally, you are not an abuser. YOU are NOT an ABUSER. Do you believe me? You’re not.
I can’t commend you enough for writing this out, my friend. You have helped others today, I’d bet on it.
I admire you more today than ever.
September 8th, 2009 at 6:37 pm
Brian, besides your bravery and courage, you’re incredibly self-aware. Thank goodness. And that stopped the cycle. Another thank goodness.
And when I say, “Thank GOODness”, I mean it in every since of the word.
You are GOOD. Good enough that you’ve learned an incredibly difficult and harsh lesson that I wish you never had to go through. But, people shouldn’t be measured on their weakest moments. And good people make mistakes.
I hope that for you and your family’s sake you forgive yourself. That deep scar and regret will keep you from living in the moment joyfully. And that’s really all we’ve got. The moment. And you and your family DESERVE to be living without that regret. I urge you to take away its power. It no longer deserves it. It no longer deserves your attention. Thanks to YOU. Let it harm no more.
And Brian, I can fully identify with this. Fully.
September 8th, 2009 at 7:48 pm
This piece both broke my heart in some spots and healed some parts that have been broken. We get to choose whether or not we become abusers; I believe it as a look at my four children and know that I have never once thought of them as sexual beings, nor punching bags, nor easy targets. I believe it as I read your amazing, powerful words. WE choose-and you have chosen well.
September 8th, 2009 at 7:49 pm
Your honesty when looking at this whole situation is remarkable. And like another commentor mentioned “You are very self aware.” You are able to look at what you did as a child and realize that it was wrong. You are not doing these things as an adult. So that means that you are no an abuser.
You need to forgive yourself for the things that happened long ago and can not be taken back. God has forgiven you. So you need to work on you and let go of the pain and not let it cripple you.
Blessings
September 8th, 2009 at 9:18 pm
Yes, you have caused some pain to your sisters. And the fact that you face this together goes a very, very long way toward healing that. You must find a way to allow yourself that healing.
But you were all victims, and my heart breaks for you.
September 9th, 2009 at 11:00 am
i was a sister who was abused by her brother. there are still some things that my partner does that makes me feel threatened and shut of. yet it is now my journey. my turn to choose to turn towards the one i love rather than away. to completely feel rather than flatten out the experience. i love my brother very much. your post has helped me let go of a little bit of anger i still held onto. i thank you for giving me that small part of my heart back*
September 10th, 2009 at 3:51 pm
This is so brave…Godspeed to you Brian and your sisters.
September 10th, 2009 at 6:51 pm
Brian, Thank you for sharing your story. Thanks to Flutter for giving you a safe place to share. Every time a survivor speaks out, the world becomes a better place. I believe this with all my heart.
September 11th, 2009 at 4:44 am
I read this post over a day ago and at the time, I didn’t know what to say.
It’s stayed with me, this post, and here I am again…still not knowing what to say.
I guess I’ll just say that this post stayed with me, and will continue to.
September 12th, 2009 at 12:17 pm
How brave of you to write about this, Brian. I’m sorry for your pain and for your sisters’ pain. Your girls will be Ok ~ I’m sure you will see to that! Thank you for sharing your story with us…
September 13th, 2009 at 12:53 pm
Brian, you are incredible and courageous and I can’t express my admiration right now.
I hope this helps you to quit carrying that around with you, because you deserve to be free of it.
September 18th, 2009 at 11:19 am
This weblog is being featured on Five Star Friday –
http://www.fivestarfriday.com/2009/09/five-star-fridays-edition-71.html
September 18th, 2009 at 12:50 pm
First, I’m just so mad. Mad at that man, mad at the guilt you carried, mad that I don’t live close enough to hug you.
Secondly, I am so proud of you for telling your story. When I hear that people I respect, and admire, and just plain like, have been through stuff that I can relate to? It makes me stand up a little straighter, feel a little stronger.
October 7th, 2009 at 7:46 pm
God loves irony. Of course you were blessed with daughters! I’m sorry you had to cross paths with the demon who haunts you, but it does seem to be a sign that it’s time to address your past and move on. Bless you. I pray you find forgiveness and a release from these memories.