Kicking Against The Walls of Secrecy

"For there is nothing covered that will not be revealed, nor hidden that will not be known" (Luke 12:2 NKJ).

The very first wall I encountered was the wall of secrecy. The veil of silence and secrecy is a required part of an abuse victim's wardrobe. The "don't talk" rule is carved into the very soul of every abused child, whether that rule is clearly spoken or only understood to be a requirement, it is a rule that is seldom broken by the frightened child.

I had carried the secret of my sexual abuse for decades. The only person I had ever talked to about my father's inappropriate behavior was my mother. No one else either inside or outside the family was told until after I had become engaged to be married. I tofiancéfiancé so that he could run if he wanted to do that. He chose not to run then and he has not run since. He has been a solid and stable rock in my life. Of course, when I told him about the abuse, I told him all that I knew about it at that time. I had not yet realized that the majority of the abuse was buried inside my subconscious mind. Telling him what I knew about it was the first feeble kick against the wall of secrecy.

Following my marriage, my new husband and I moved to another state that was nearly 1000 miles away from my childhood home and family members. I soon became close friends with Barbara, who proved to be a very caring and compassionate friend. She was the next person I told about my past. It felt like I was doing something very wrong at first by telling the family secret, but I soon discovered that telling the secret brought a sense of comfort to my soul; someone actually cared about me. Keeping the secret had caused me to be so numb in my emotions that I had never really felt much of anything. After sharing my secret with a compassionate friend, I felt validated and cared for. This brought a new freedom to my soul and over the years that followed, I shared my secret with two other people. This brought the number to a grand total of five people who knew about my sexually abusive past. I had gently begun to kick against the wall of secrecy, but I had made only a very small dent up to that point.

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