Prevention is better than cure: A survivor’s story

By MARIAH MASSE JUSTICE CONTRIBUTING WRITER

Content warning: This article discusses instances of violence and sexual assault.

I could see my intake form on the clipboard in her lap — she was fidgeting with the pen attached to it, trying to not make eye contact. When she finally looked up, I could see the tears in her eyes. She was the first therapist I saw, and being a psychology student myself, I knew that a clinician crying during a session is a cardinal sin. I thought, how fucked up must I be to make her cry in our first session?

I wasn’t comfortable with being vulnerable, and I didn’t like the idea of sharing the darkest parts of myself that I hated the most with someone I didn’t even know. Her tears felt like a betrayal since I had worked up enough courage to finally open up and ask for help, and it was too much, even for a professional.

Walking back to my dorm, my rage settled into numbness as my mind recalled the moment this all came out in the first place, a memory that I had shoved deep down and compartmentalized for three years. This time, though, I knew I was too triggered to block it out, so I sighed and allowed it to begin replaying in my head, knowing full well it would feel more like reliving it than just remembering it.

My throat hurt from screaming, but my body was locked in a fetal position, and I couldn’t stop crying. I could move my eyes, and I could see the terrified expression on my mother’s face. She cried, almost as hard as I did, while I explained to her that the trauma of being molested as a child had finally caught up to me after holding it in as an opportunity for learning what we can do differently to protect children from this trauma.

When stories of child sexual abuse come out, it’s inevitable for the “Why didn’t you tell anyone sooner?” questions to crop up. For many survivors, like myself, the answers are often complex and multifaceted. The statistics of child sexual abuse are startling and unsettling: 1 in 4 girls and 1 in 13 boys experience child sexual abuse in the US.

Given what I now know from being involved in this subfield of psychology, I have identified several protective measures that could’ve helped me and certainly may help others.

Like many, I received the standard “stranger danger” talk from my parents, so I knew to report if a stranger tried hurting me. However, 90% of child sexual abuse is perpetrated by someone that the child or child’s family knows and trusts. Conversely, not every child sex offender is an adult, with more than 70% of children being sexually abused by a peer. The reality is that abusers can be neighbors, friends, other children, or family members.

My case aligns with each of these statistics as I was repeatedly molested by someone that my family and I knew and trusted when I was around 8 years old. This often leads to immense confusion, as we all like to believe the people we trust would never hurt us. Emphasizing consent and body boundaries is critical in eliminating this confusion, as it’s far easier for a child to identify if someone, regardless if it’s a stranger or if they know them, is violating their consent.

Perpetrators of child sexual abuse will often dedicate “special” nicknames for more difficult for a child to communicate what’s happening to them if they’re unable to label where they’re being victimized. Educating kids about their bodies in an anatomically accurate way can eliminate this barrier.

The traditional awkward “sex talk” needs a significant update. As sexual development is ongoing, it’s time to move away from a one-off awkward conversation and towards continuous conversations about sexuality. Treating these conversations with openness, honesty, and security encourages healthy attitudes and relationships with sexuality.

However, a common misconception is that talking to kids about sexuality will make them engage in sexual behavior sooner and more frequently, however, this is a myth, much like the misconception that asking someone if they’re suicidal will put the idea in their head.

Education equals prevention, so the rule of thumb in this field is the sooner these conversations happen, the better. Fostering safe and supportive dialogue surrounding sexual development can make all the difference.

Iwish I was more forgiving and empathetic to myself for the child molesting. I was a kid, I didn’t know any better. I was angry at my parents, and I felt that they failed me when each time they had an opportunity to put me in therapy following each of my disclosures they didn’t. It’s taken two therapists and three years of weekly sessions for me to let most of my anger go. I have forgiven the people who have abused me, but as I say in my sessions, “I can forgive it, but my body will never forget it.”

I’ve learned, practiced and built a toolbox of skills to help me navigate my PTSD, mindfulness techniques, prioritizing self-care, establishing boundaries, and strengthening my mind-body connection through physical activity and daily positive affirmations. Thankfully, after many years of self-growth and hard work, I am able to both remember and talk about these events with no stress response reaction, which helps me function on a daily basis.

Since August of 2022 I have been lucky enough to work with Dr. Emeritus of the Psychology depertment as Brandeis University, in his sexual violence lab. My master’s thesis is on identifying characteristics of child sex offenders with the hopes of exposing commonalities of behavior and traits.

The clinical application of this research is to educate communities on developing prevention and intervention efforts to reduce child sexual abuse. After all, “child sexual abuse is preventable, not inevitable,” according to the Johns Hopkins Moore Center for Prevention of Child Sexual Abuse.

It’s taken several years of self-growth, empathy, forgiveness, acceptance and countless hours of therapy for me to feel healed enough to pursue a career in this field. It’s an indescribable burden to bear as a survivor; the weight of responsibility to heal from these experiences.

My diagnosis of PTSD, which still gets triggered to this day nearly 20 years later, has forced me to learn a multitude of coping skills that I utilize on a daily basis.

As I say to my therapist, “I’ve forgiven it, but my body will never forget it.” The reason I decided to finally share my story publicly is the same reason why I still show up and work on myself in therapy every week: because there is so much strength in