Today is the ninth anniversary of my then 19-year-old son’s disclosure that his father had molested him. My world shattered into a million pieces that day, knowing that 19 years of what I thought had been reality was false and that my son had been suffering in silence all that time. My son was an excellent student, an athlete, very responsible and hardworking, and had no overt signs of having been abused. No drugs, alcohol, self harm or promiscuous behavior. He had friends but did not like to socialize in large groups, which I had attributed to being an introvert (and I still think that is true). He did have a deep fear of breaking any rules and was very guarded with his physical privacy (no locker rooms). 

My husband (who had undiagnosed frontal lobe brain damage) had told our toddler son that I wouldn’t love him anymore and that he (our son) would be sent away to strangers if anyone found out. So my son made sure that no one found out until when suffering from the effects of encephalitis, his defenses were not as strong and he revealed the trauma at age 19.

After disclosure, my son and I went to therapy (separately and together), I found this site a few years later, my son had a lot of EMDR, I took responsibility for not knowing and protecting him (even though looking back I don’t know how I could have known, given our particular set of circumstances). The wounded child inside my adult son needed to be angry with me and needed me to take responsibility for not protecting him. It was not about me at those points, it was about his healing. 

Of course he was more angry with his father and they had been estranged since the age of 12. My son chose not to prosecute his father because the brain damage had caused the behavior.

Nine years later, my son still has all the good qualities he always had, has faced serious health issues (and still does) is diligently working toward his degree, has close friends but has not had a serious romantic relationship since high school. He is relaxed and laughs, jokes and can be silly. 

Yesterday he did EMDR and discovered his lifelong fear of tests (a fear so deep that he felt he was going to be killed every time he took one) was rooted in, like every other problem he has had, the molestation. When he was little he made the connection that being forced to do something he didn’t want to (getting molested) meant he would die (as he feared he would each time it happened). Today the test anxiety seems to be gone, but it shows how deep and insidious the damage is. I always think of molestation effects as mold spores, invisible but there, spreading even though we don’t see them.

My son’s and my relationship was always close and still is. I had separated from his father 10 years before disclosure because his brain damage made him unpredictable and dangerous, and had full custody of our son. Four years ago my husband took his own life because he had begun to realize the enormity of the damage he caused his son and me and that he could never fix it or have any kind of relationship, ever. 

It brings me peace knowing that monster is no longer on this earth, but it does nothing to change the effect that molestation has had on my son’s life or on mine. Nothing can give my son the childhood I wanted him to have, and nothing can erase what happened to him. He has overcome most of the effects through thousands of dollars of therapy, years of hard work and support. I will feel like he has healed when he feels safe enough to let himself fall in love. In high school he chose girls who were wounded and who in turn wounded him.

I have just begun considering dating again. I no longer feel responsible and the molestation is no longer on my mind every day. Every other day maybe, but it is not so prominent. It is mostly just there in the background. I am not filled with rage (as I was for 3 years straight), just sadness for the loss of my son’s innocence and the incredible betrayal from my husband (who was no longer the man I had married).  I hate talking about my past so getting to know someone is hard. My life story is ugly because of someone else. I have considered moving to a new place, but I either have to lie and omit my life story (which feels inauthentic) or risk the judgment and rejection I have encountered from some people.

So nine years later, we have come a long way but I will never be the same. The day my son disclosed was his positive first step on a long healing journey, and I am relieved that he has been able to do so well. I am grateful that I am a therapist so could support him better than if I had not understood as much. That day for me was the worst day of my life and started a long journey of absolute devastation and self doubt. People often tell me I look wise now. I don’t know if I am, but I no longer feel like I have been burned with acid and I too can laugh, be happy and be silly. But memories of my baby are bittersweet and all the memories that were happy are tinged with sorrow. And I censor what I share about myself or my son’s life, even with people I wish I could trust but am afraid to lose if they judge me negatively. 

We are both survivors. I was also molested and have overcome many challenges, health and otherwise. It has been really hard, but I am grateful that my son is who he is and that we can enjoy our lives.

We are all survivors, wherever we are in this journey.