Today, I want to write a little about our own experience. First, I'd like to say that we already had been seeing for years a family/individual counselor whom my daughter liked and trusted (well, as much as a little girl who's keeping a huge secret like this can like and trust any counselor, I guess). We kept seeing this counselor throughout the aftermath of Evie telling, but truthfully, Evie was so angry (and so spent from having to repeatedly relive the telling of the trauma with her new court-ordered counselor), that the benefit of continuing with the first counselor concurrently was questionable. It did keep Evie's sharing-other-things relationship open with this counselor, so that when court-ordered counseling was completed, Evie had a safe place to fall; however, it added nothing at the time.
Right off the bat, seeing a court-ordered counselor was awkward and uncomfortable because... here we were, the "victims" in this situation, and we were being told by people in power in the judicial system what to do. People who had already shown that my *daughter's* best interest is not what they were minding. People whose primary agenda was reunification. It made me feel as though my parenting skills were being questioned, and that I might be incapable of being a good judge of what my own daughter needed. I'm still disappointed in the way in which we were treated in the judicial system. It is clearly broken.
So, Evie's new counselor was nice, welcoming, and even tried to be relate-able for Evie, telling her that she herself was also a victim of child sexual abuse. Mind you, this woman was well into adulthood, and Evie was ten (and angry and ashamed). This woman related to Evie that her past sexual abuse was one of the reasons she became a counselor. Evie was like, "Well, I don't want to be a counselor. I want to be a writer.". ::laughing:: There was just no real rapport established, and then my painfully shy, quiet daughter was expected to open up to this total stranger about something she saw as being icky and embarrassing. Adding insult to injury, the counselor had Evie doing "workbooks" (which Evie was angry about, too... and not just because it felt like school homework, but also because of the content).
I would find the workbook pages torn into bits and pieces and buried in the trash. I'd meticulously tape them back together so I could see what needed to be addressed between me and the counselor (both trying to figure out what might help Evie). While the workbooks were not the right support for my daughter, *I* actually learned from them, from Evie's answers within them. I learned how literal kids (some kids) really are, and how much more specifically we must choose our words when talking about "inappropriate touch" situations. I talk a bit more about this in my book. I wish all parents would read that section, really "hear" what I am saying. Learn from my mistakes.
Please don't think that *your* relationship with *your* child is sounder than mine was. Don't think that just because you talk openly about "appropriate/inappropriate touch" with your kids, that yours will be able to protect themselves or even really understand all the nuances of this topic. Don't think that just because you ask an always-seemingly-truth-telling child if this has ever happened, that they will tell the truth about this issue. Don't think that you can reason away any threats the perpetrator used, or make your child feel safe in telling you...because the conceived power of the monster molesting them is so much greater. Don't think that you will be able to tell if they are lying about this topic.
For Evie (and for me, too), most of our healing has come from talking about this, from redefining a "new normal" for our lives, and from the passage of time....just putting that distance between the event and her life now. Everyone's experiences are different. What works for one may or may not work for another. Please never, ever give up on your child or yourself. Don't give up. Help is out there. You can heal.
Mad MONDAY!
Tomorrow is nearly here! I can't wait for you to hear Tell TUESDAY's guest blogger, my sister. She will be telling her own family's story. Her words. Her voice. No more silence. No more shame.
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