Let the healing begin
I've been married for over 20 years, have 3 fantastic kids.
Over the past 10 years or so, my relationship with my wife has been suffering; the past couple years saw a bit of an acceleration, she stopped sleeping in our bedroom, grew more distant. We were still friendly, but more roommates than a couple. We're both dedicated to raising our kids, and enjoy some time together, but the romance is completely dead.
A few months ago she asked me to move out. Not to separate, just to give her some space. I refused; there was a lot of negativity, I couldn't quite grasp what she wanted. My wife's description of my behavior seemed quite far off from my experiences; she gave me a book "Stop Hurting The Woman You Love" which was even more baffling - it described abusive relationships, mostly physically abusive, which I definitely have never been.
We decided to try couples' therapy. I also started with a therapist (only had one visit thus far) as the whole thing was quite stressful, as she asked me to move out multiple times.
The couples' therapy, at least, got our communication flowing. I thought we were making pretty good strides, but she was still insistent that I move out. This led me to break down each time, I just couldn't picture leaving my family. I did offer a compromise, to move to a room in the basement, she could have the bedroom, to have some space to herself (she's been sleeping on the sofa in the family room). She refused.
We drove to my office to pick up something of hers that I'd borrowed, and while we were sitting in the car I told her I knew that she was hurting, I knew I was the cause, and I wanted to understand her, to understand her hurt. In her description she mentioned (among other things) that she felt my behavior was tantamount to sexual abuse and coercion. She knew that it wasn't intentional, and that maybe made it even worse, in her mind.
We drove home pretty much in silence and I mulled things over.
I realized that what I had dismissed long ago as not being relevant to me was, in fact, everything wrong with me. I realized that my behaviors maybe had not been normal, or justified, or under my control. My wife was right.
When we got home, in the driveway, I decided it was the time to rip off a big scab and let proper healing start. I disclosed to my wife that I had been the victim of childhood sexual abuse. I told her about my neighbor, a teen who was maybe 4 years older, who abused me when I was 11 or 12, to the best of my recollection. It went on for months, maybe even a couple years, my recollection is hazy as memories of abuse often are, with little snips here and there.
I feel like this admission was a real turning point, both in our relationship, and in my own mental health. My wife has been incredibly open and supportive; a few weeks ago I wasn't certain our marriage would survive. Now I have hope for the future. She's cleaning out her storage room in the basement for me, and when there's space, I'll move downstairs to give her space to heal. I know physical intimacy is still a long way off, and to be honest, I don't know that I'm ready for it anyway - I have a lot of personal healing of my own to do.
Researching this more and more, lots of things start adding up - my generalized anxiety disorder, pelvic floor dysfunction, emotional outbursts, compulsive behaviors, and more. Maybe some of the things that I've dismissed as aspergers (which I'm pretty certain I am) were actually due to the CSA.
I'm also finding out that many of my experiences are not so uncommon amongst the abused; I had felt that I had enjoyed it, that I was at least partly responsible. My fantasies often involved my abuser. And more.
I have a second appointment with my therapist this Friday. It's gonna be... interesting.
I was abused almost 40 years ago. I never told anybody until a couple weeks ago.
It's well past time to let the healing begin.
Over the past 10 years or so, my relationship with my wife has been suffering; the past couple years saw a bit of an acceleration, she stopped sleeping in our bedroom, grew more distant. We were still friendly, but more roommates than a couple. We're both dedicated to raising our kids, and enjoy some time together, but the romance is completely dead.
A few months ago she asked me to move out. Not to separate, just to give her some space. I refused; there was a lot of negativity, I couldn't quite grasp what she wanted. My wife's description of my behavior seemed quite far off from my experiences; she gave me a book "Stop Hurting The Woman You Love" which was even more baffling - it described abusive relationships, mostly physically abusive, which I definitely have never been.
We decided to try couples' therapy. I also started with a therapist (only had one visit thus far) as the whole thing was quite stressful, as she asked me to move out multiple times.
The couples' therapy, at least, got our communication flowing. I thought we were making pretty good strides, but she was still insistent that I move out. This led me to break down each time, I just couldn't picture leaving my family. I did offer a compromise, to move to a room in the basement, she could have the bedroom, to have some space to herself (she's been sleeping on the sofa in the family room). She refused.
We drove to my office to pick up something of hers that I'd borrowed, and while we were sitting in the car I told her I knew that she was hurting, I knew I was the cause, and I wanted to understand her, to understand her hurt. In her description she mentioned (among other things) that she felt my behavior was tantamount to sexual abuse and coercion. She knew that it wasn't intentional, and that maybe made it even worse, in her mind.
We drove home pretty much in silence and I mulled things over.
I realized that what I had dismissed long ago as not being relevant to me was, in fact, everything wrong with me. I realized that my behaviors maybe had not been normal, or justified, or under my control. My wife was right.
When we got home, in the driveway, I decided it was the time to rip off a big scab and let proper healing start. I disclosed to my wife that I had been the victim of childhood sexual abuse. I told her about my neighbor, a teen who was maybe 4 years older, who abused me when I was 11 or 12, to the best of my recollection. It went on for months, maybe even a couple years, my recollection is hazy as memories of abuse often are, with little snips here and there.
I feel like this admission was a real turning point, both in our relationship, and in my own mental health. My wife has been incredibly open and supportive; a few weeks ago I wasn't certain our marriage would survive. Now I have hope for the future. She's cleaning out her storage room in the basement for me, and when there's space, I'll move downstairs to give her space to heal. I know physical intimacy is still a long way off, and to be honest, I don't know that I'm ready for it anyway - I have a lot of personal healing of my own to do.
Researching this more and more, lots of things start adding up - my generalized anxiety disorder, pelvic floor dysfunction, emotional outbursts, compulsive behaviors, and more. Maybe some of the things that I've dismissed as aspergers (which I'm pretty certain I am) were actually due to the CSA.
I'm also finding out that many of my experiences are not so uncommon amongst the abused; I had felt that I had enjoyed it, that I was at least partly responsible. My fantasies often involved my abuser. And more.
I have a second appointment with my therapist this Friday. It's gonna be... interesting.
I was abused almost 40 years ago. I never told anybody until a couple weeks ago.
It's well past time to let the healing begin.