Where abuse ends
When my grandpa was growing up, his father was a stern disciplinarian. He would chain the children up to a rafter in the barn and beat them with a horse whip. One of the boys disappeared. Family legend has it that he either ran away, or was beaten to death and fed to the hogs.
Grandpa claimed that when he was 16 and being beaten, he refused to scream or beg and was never beaten again.
What about that story might be true is hard to say. But grandpa never once lifted his hand against one of his children. He could become suddenly violent in a righteous cause, but he never hit his kids.
We know that abuse is a trait that is passed on. Abused children often become abusers. I am not sure how much of that is under our control. Many of us here are afraid that one day we might become abusers. The idea that it might happen to me use to worry me. But I am 50 years old now and my own CSA ended38 years ago, and I have never even once been tempted to do any such thing. I can imagine it, but to act on such thoughts is utterly repulsive. Is that because I am so self controlled or virtuous, or because of the genetics passed to me from my grandpa and the history that he altered by his virtue?
This is what I am suggesting: We were abused by people who did not have the genetic or social background that would allow them to alter their own behavior. It was our misfortune to have been subjected to the sickness of these lost souls. But it is our greater fortune to have the backgrounds to withstand the full force of their sickness and stop it here.
Forgiveness is a major part of true healing. The understanding that our abusers were , in the long run, less fortunate than us, can be the basis for that forgiveness. For all of the hurt in our poor broken hearts, how much more horrible would it be to have to live inside the mind of those who do such things? I know that you hate them, just as I often do. We cant heal them or even do much to hurt them at this point, but we can heal ourselves, and only hurt ourselves by holding on to the hate.
Were it not for my grandpa, I might be a predatory child abuser. For that I must give thanks. Of course grandpa was a short, fat, baldheaded, hemorrhoidal, chronically depressed old poop. When he was leaving me his legacy he could have left off some of that crap! But that is life.
Aden
Grandpa claimed that when he was 16 and being beaten, he refused to scream or beg and was never beaten again.
What about that story might be true is hard to say. But grandpa never once lifted his hand against one of his children. He could become suddenly violent in a righteous cause, but he never hit his kids.
We know that abuse is a trait that is passed on. Abused children often become abusers. I am not sure how much of that is under our control. Many of us here are afraid that one day we might become abusers. The idea that it might happen to me use to worry me. But I am 50 years old now and my own CSA ended38 years ago, and I have never even once been tempted to do any such thing. I can imagine it, but to act on such thoughts is utterly repulsive. Is that because I am so self controlled or virtuous, or because of the genetics passed to me from my grandpa and the history that he altered by his virtue?
This is what I am suggesting: We were abused by people who did not have the genetic or social background that would allow them to alter their own behavior. It was our misfortune to have been subjected to the sickness of these lost souls. But it is our greater fortune to have the backgrounds to withstand the full force of their sickness and stop it here.
Forgiveness is a major part of true healing. The understanding that our abusers were , in the long run, less fortunate than us, can be the basis for that forgiveness. For all of the hurt in our poor broken hearts, how much more horrible would it be to have to live inside the mind of those who do such things? I know that you hate them, just as I often do. We cant heal them or even do much to hurt them at this point, but we can heal ourselves, and only hurt ourselves by holding on to the hate.
Were it not for my grandpa, I might be a predatory child abuser. For that I must give thanks. Of course grandpa was a short, fat, baldheaded, hemorrhoidal, chronically depressed old poop. When he was leaving me his legacy he could have left off some of that crap! But that is life.
Aden