Survivors' Voices: Trust, Part 2
I am honored to share these further reflections on the topic of trust. (If you missed Part 1, you can find that here: Survivors’ Voices: Trust.) Please read and listen with an open heart.
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.
Losing the ability to trust was and continues to be far worse than losing my virginity in the assault by my parish priest. Many years later, I continue to struggle to trust people. My family trusted this priest and so did I. Unfortunately, the first person I told about the priest’s repeated assaults also assaulted me. This person was an uncle. A number of years after the initial assault I approached a priest in my parish to ask if he knew the abuse had been going on. His response was “Thanks be to God it wasn't an uncle.” Many years later, when I asked my uncle why he assaulted me, his response was because he knew I would not tell anyone. I will say I have very few people that I trust in my life today. I recently told a close friend that I trust them. When I received a funny look, I explained that trust for me is far more valuable than love.
After the first time I was abused by a priest at age 19, I gradually lost my trust in priests and the Church, and eventually even my faith in God. I was an atheist for seven years before deciding to give the Church another try. I went to a counseling appointment with a priest half-trusting, with caution, and was again abused. I turned my back on the Church and on trusting those whose profession was preaching a morality that they did not practice themselves. However, I did eventually learn that a mature level of trust has to be informed by an understanding of human nature and tempered with skepticism. We cannot function without trusting others, but we don't have to take naive risks.
The break of trust was the Chancery's actions after I reported the abuse: The dismissive comments they sent me via email. Then not hearing from them, but experiencing a shift in how other diocesan priests acted around me. Confronting these priests about it, to hear that they had been "told about me" by the Chancery - that I was crazy, delusional. Applying for work, only to have a priest try to get me fired. When I asked "Why did you do this?,” he replied "I'm sorry. The Vicar General ordered me to send that email. What else could I do?" More than 10 years later and they are still engaged in these antics. I no longer feel safe dealing with the diocese.
Trust is usually earned over time. However, there are several instances where trust is automatically implied just because of the vocation or position of that person in your life. Parents, teachers, sports coaches, Boy Scout leaders, medical professionals, police officers, and clergy are among those we classify as safe and helpers. It’s implied trust, not earned. When those boundaries are breached, the impact is devastating to a sense of trust. Violated boundaries by caregivers when I was a child taught me to trust the wrong people while dismissing my own inner sense of warning. Now I have to learn to trust myself over another. I have to individuate, becoming self-sourced, with God at my center as a means of that source, over the professional implied trust in people in positions of power. Anyone regardless of their title will have to earn that trust.
I reported Father before anything physical happened. One day he asked me to come into the rectory alone with him. I refused. In retrospect, I believe I would have been in great danger had I gone with him that day. Despite my report and further signs that this is habitual behavior for Father, I do not know of anything meaningful that has been done to stop him. Three months after I reported him, his order moved him to a nearby, much-larger parish to be pastor there. There was no explanation for the sudden move. The diocese implied that I was not a vulnerable adult, therefore the matter was settled. It shattered me. It happened in 2017 and, though I am recovering, it still affects me every day.
I think my trust in general has been damaged beyond healing. I will probably always carry mistrust towards the Church and her leaders for the rest of my life. The area that hurts me the most is that I even struggle to trust God and see Him as good and loving after what His Church and priest did to me. This aspect of the wound seems to impact so many aspects of my life.
It occurs to me that each survivors’ reflection offered here is an act of trust itself - trust in me, and trust in you as a reader. May we strive to be worthy of that trust.
~ Sara
I am not a victim survivor but because of all this I have no trust in the Catholic Church. The church has broke me and all I want to do is help and support survivors.