Survivors' Voices: New Beginnings, Part 2
Welcome to Monday friends! I am happy to share that my husband and I are both feeling much better after our short bout with Covid; just dealing with a few lingering symptoms and fatigue. Our son came down with it this weekend, but he seems to be doing ok. I’m grateful that we have fared pretty well, considering.
I am also grateful to be able to post this second installment of survivors’ responses on the subject of “new beginnings.” (If you missed it, you can read Part 1 here.) It’s beautiful to read the diverse ways these men and women have found new life and hope.
If you have experienced sexual abuse in the Catholic Church, I would be honored to include your perspective in this “Survivors’ Voices” series. You can find more information and express your interest here.
I've found a supportive group of friends, and that's been a new beginning. It feels more possible to move forward with people who aren't afraid to face the ugliness and walk through it. Before meeting them, I felt pretty alone and invisible.
Two years ago, I was in this same place - literally and figuratively - trying to (just) move on from the Catholic stuff. To get on with my life. And it was working. I was thinking about other things. It wasn't easy, because my archdiocese has consistently refused to help me, but being away from home, and being lucky enough to be able to be, was helping. And then, out of the blue, a fellow survivor, who I hadn't talked to in a year, contacted me. Just when I thought I was out, they PULLED me back in. While it's easy to tell survivors they need to (just) move on, the reality of surviving, and the need to help one's fellow survivors - because the church won't help them - gets in the way.
My first "new beginning" came six years after my abuse ended. I was curled up in my bed and cried out from the depth of my heart for Jesus to rescue me from the darkness and pain of the abuse. I had a longing to return to the Sacraments, but the darkness and anxiety were so severe, I was paralyzed by it. That night, Jesus answered the cry of my heart and He came to me as I experienced a deeply personal, intimate moment with Him. I knew in that moment that I was going to experience freedom and healing and that it would come through the Eucharist. I didn't know how exactly or what the time frame would look like, but that was my first glimmer of hope and it changed my life forever.
“New beginnings” happened when I got clean 14 years ago. The depth of my desperation propelled me into treatment and a change in my attitude and outlook. My willingness to participate in psychotherapy also provided me with a new beginning. I think the most drastic example of a new beginning for me was when my therapist helped me understand that what I experienced as a child was sexual abuse. That was the beginning of my mental, emotional, and spiritual 20 year journey into self. My conclusion after 20 years of therapy: "I like me."
I'm hoping for a new beginning in 2022. I suppose I've had many of them, especially when I first found my voice and started talking about my abuse several years ago. Finally, for the first time in almost ten years, I'm beginning work with a therapist to try and deal with the abuse and all of the impact it has had on my life.
For a long time I tried to push things away and just say I had "moved on" but the impacts of the assault continued on. It wasn't until I went public with my story and started working on things in therapy that I was able to find closure and an ending to that trauma. Once I had that ending, I was able to have a new beginning and see the kind of Catholic I would be. This isn't to say I don't still struggle with being Catholic or I can never go back to the way I was, but the Lord makes all things new... even the worst of the worst.
May the Lord make all things new in 2022 - for all of us.
~ Sara