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Hiding In Plain Sight
I had to hide her. I needed to tuck her away. Protect her. I was so young. I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t ask for help. I knew I had to do this on my own. So I hid her.
She is safe. That much I know. No one will ever hurt her. Because no one else gets in. Just me.
***
I was young when he sexually abused me. I don’t know how many times it happened. I know that he was only in our lives for a short time. I don’t know whether it was over weeks or months. Some of those details are hazy. I was too young to have a good concept of time. I was so young that my mind could barely process what was happening and the words to describe it or to talk about it simply didn’t belong to me yet. I don’t remember everything. But I remember enough.
It’s the parts I don’t remember that haunt me. Flashes of memories. Horrible dreams that have been visiting me on a regular basis my whole life.
When he would come for me again and again. When he would whisper with heated venom, Don’t cry. Don’t you dare fuckin’ cry. And my young brain could barely understand what was happening…
She hid.
When I would feel the hot tears but I would stifle the sobs. When I refused to make a sound because it could invite something even worse…
She hid.
And the anger, the paralyzing fear, the pain, they hitched a ride with her.
I let her take all of the bad stuff and put it someplace safe where I didn’t have to see it or think about it. What was left of me? I put on a happy face.
I protected myself and the people I love by putting on a happy face. By ignoring all the bad stuff that happened. I couldn’t deal with it. And I somehow decided the danger of letting anyone else know was too great. Don’t let anyone see.
And because she hid, she saved me.
She preserved a part of me that allowed me to go on. Long after he was gone. Long after his face became a sickening blur that I didn’t try to bring into focus. She saved me.
That was a long time ago.
And she’s still hiding. The part of me that had to go into protection mode is still hiding. She’s keeping a vigilant watch.
Because of her you don’t really know me.
Because of her I’m hiding right in front of you.
No one knows the whole me.
It’s a wonder that I am able to have deep and meaningful relationships with people. With my family, my husband, my friends. I need people in my life. I need connections. Over the years I learned just how much to give to the people I love while still protecting the deepest part of me.
But it’s not all good. There are consequences to this carefully calibrated exposure. I have trouble with negative emotions. I deny sadness. I stuff it down. Don’t cry. Don’t you dare fuckin’ cry. I don’t know how to get mad. I deny my anger. Even if it’s wholly justified. The hurt gets buried. The anger gets squashed. Don’t let anyone see.
The consequences? I’ve gotten so good at hiding that I don’t even know when I’m doing it. It’s become innate. Intuitive. A retreat as deft and soft as a blink.
It happens so often that I end up confused by the feelings that ooze their way back in. What? Anger? Why? Where did this come from? Is it in fact anger? The befuddlement of a toddler to basic human emotions.
And it plays out in my relationships. It can be days before I realize I’m angry at my husband. I can withdraw completely while I try to decipher the simplest of emotional codes. It’s not a game or a ploy or passive aggressiveness. It’s just confusion.
The crazy part? I didn’t know the charade was taking place. My whole life I have been not only hiding from everyone around me, I’ve been hiding from myself. It wasn’t a bad gig, really. Bad feelings out – good feelings in. The result: Happy. Not a lot of drama. Not a lot of dwelling on the negative. But real? Apparently not.
And being real is kind of important. Because not being real? It’s exhausting.
Now, as I realize what’s been going on under the surface all this time? I’m tired. The effort to keep things buried, to dismiss and ignore all the bad feelings? The regimen has become cumbersome.
I’m tired of hiding. I have no reason to hide any more.
I’m safe.
I’m not ashamed.
I’m proud of who I am. Of my life.
I don’t want to hide any more.
I want to be free.
I want to feel and to understand what I’m feeling.
I want to yell. Scream. Cry. Growl. Throw things.
I want to say what I’m feeling when I feel it.
And I want to deal with all of it.
I want to be free.
I want to deal with the good and the bad and the ugly and the prickly and the painful. It’s never been about strength. I know I can withstand the assault of decades of feelings. I’m ready, I’m itching to unleash all of it.
I just don’t know how. Not yet.
I’ve had moments. Moments where I’ve been mad and I knew it right away. And I didnt hold back and question it or try to deny it or rationalize it. I yelled and I said everything I was thinking and feeling. I was harsh. Maybe even a little too harsh. But I’m told a little over correction is ok after all this time.
And it felt good. It felt real.
It felt clean.
I felt a little lighter.
So I’m going to keep working on it. I’m going to try to get better at cracking the code of my emotions and dealing with them. I’m going to work on unlearning a lifetime worth of response.
I’m glad that part of me hid. It was self preservation. An act of survival. And even for years after the abuse ended, it still served to give my young mind room. Room to grow and mature and learn and be a kid. The hiding was essential. It served a purpose. It saved me.
But now I don’t need saving.
She can come out of hiding. She can take leave of her duties. She can go be a kid and laugh and play and make flower chain head bands and sip honey suckle off the vine. She can ride her bike and stretch her arms out wide trusting the steadiness of her balance. She doesn’t need to hide any more. She can be free.
Because now I’m here.
I’ll take all the feelings and I’ll learn to feel them.
I’ll accept the fear and the hurt.
I’ll feel them. I’ll deal with them.
And I’ll be ok.
I’ll be here, all of me. I’ll be safe.
I’ll be free.
I guess it’s your turn to make me cry this week. What a revelation that this child can be free! And so can you. It seems to me that you have found courage you didn’t know you had and are able to stand as a woman, not a frightened child. I hope that continues to grow and both of you remain, as you deserve to be, free. Such courageous conviction, my friend. I am proud of you and grateful to know you. You’re beautiful.
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Thank you so much Sandy. I do feel 100% certain that I can be free of all of this. Last year when I really started digging into everything I was scared to death. I thought I’d end up going crazy or be institutionalized if I talked about it. But a year and a half later, I already feel so much progress and so much more free. I’ll get there. I’m just trying to be patient and allow it to happen without trying to force it. I like to rip off the band aid quickly and apparently that’s not always the best way. I’m proud and grateful to know you too…
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Oh Gretchen…I wish I could take that away from you. I’m sorry you were hurt.
I get not understanding feelings. I am very often confused by mine and I get hiding..I’ve hidden for so long that I don’t recognize the mask anymore..
I’m glad you’re talking about this. XXOO
I wish you peace.
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I guess a lot of us are hiding… We all have things that screwed with us in some way or another. It seems like some lash out in anger and some hide and try to fly under the radar. I’ve always been a little envious of the angry ones. At least they get it all out. Hey, maybe I’ll be an angry bitch when I’m through all of this. That might be kind of fun! (and thank you. I do feel more peace these days. <3)
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I found I feared feelings. So the feeling would be a sensation, not even particularly unpleasant to feel fear or anger, but the fear of the feeling would be overwhelming- what if I showed it?
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This post ended me. Not forever, I mean for the day. I’m blow-away by your willingness to be so vulnerable here (and honored as fuck). while reading, I had chills and kept uttering, “holy shit”.
Chillingly candid, brave, inspiring. Wow. I’m beyond BEYOND sorry that this is a part of your history. I hope that part of you does come out of hiding because you, my friend, are one of the most incredible humans I know, and not one tiny shred of you needs to be hidden anymore. *hugs*
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YOU have completely ended me Beth. Thank you. I don’t even know how to say how much your words are making me feel- less scared about laying it all out here, but also more confident in kicking the ass of this thing that holds me back. Thank you for giving me this after three days of sweating through writing this and biting my nails in nervousness. I can breathe now. Thank you. *hugs*
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Your understanding of your own reaction to this….horrific violation…is both painful and empowering. Hard enough for us to let others know who we are without someone else in our world and in our head to make us afraid. So courageous and so important for others in your situation to hear. Well done, Gretchen.
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Thank you SH. For most of my life I was adamant that none of this had any long term affect on me. And for the most part it’s not something I spend a lot of time thinking about. But yeah, it did a number on my mind and only took me just shy of four decades to realize it! What can I say, I’m a slow learner 🙂 But seriously, thank you for your words and your support. I’m so glad we’re here together.
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In the face of such horror, there are no words. But I know this: You deserve to be safe, be free, be happy. Your words are powerful. There is beauty.
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Thank you so much. The fact that I was too young to remember all of the details is definitely a blessing. I do feel happy for the most part. The freedom? That’s what I yearn for, I’m not sure what that looks like, but I hope to get there soon. Thank you for your sweet words.
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Heart broken understanding. The innocence taken, the having to hide, I wish I could say more… I can’t. Thank you for not hiding this. Thank you for writing it.
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Thank you Rachel. I completely understand not being able to say more. Thank you for your kind words.
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Though our circumstances were different, I understand the exhuastion of hiding your real self all too well. It is a tired that hangs from every movement and thought throughout the day. it is a dry, dull ache at the edge of our vision. It is a lack of energy to fully comprehend the world as it swirls around us.
Thank you for sharing your story with us. I wish you a happy and peaceful path as you walk towards total freedom. Happiness even as you let every other type of emotion control in their time and place. Happiness even as the ravages of the emotions are finally allowed to manifest. You are strong, your words prove that, so I have no doubt you’ll walk this path succesfully.
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Matticus, your comment is… I am in awe of everything you just said. You really summed up my whole post beautifully. You just phrased this in a way that is like a little bit of light breaking through, allowing me to feel relief that someone understands but also allowing me to understand it a little better. We write these things hoping to relieve ourselves but also hoping to maybe help someone who’s been through something themselves. And I’m reading your comment and I am the one who’s being helped.
Yes to the dry dull ache. Yes to the lack of comprehension of what takes place all around us. I want to take your words and paste them into my post for anyone who may not read them here. And yes, let the emotions control in their own time and place. That’s the part I struggle with now. I want to speed through the process and wipe my hands and be done. And I know that I have to be patient. When I’m feeling frustrated and impatient, I’ll remember your words. Thank you for all of this.
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You’re welcome. I’m glad my comment helped, and feel free to use it however you want. It was written for you and anyone else who could benefit from knowing they aren’t alone, exactly like your post.
Patience is something I struggle with too. I think, perhaps, we all do in our own way. And, I’m not quite to the point where I let my emotions roam free… not yet. I’m not sure I’m even on the path yet. I know I’ve written things that have helped me understand the emotions I hold in check, and relieve some of that pressure building within me through those words, but I haven’t yet made the choice to consisently work towards freeing the real me. The prospect, the unknown consequences, are terrifying. So, I am in awe of you, and I can only hope that watching you succeed will give me the bravery to follow.
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Wow. Just wow. Thanks for sharing your story. I wish you happiness and good things. 🙂
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Thank you Lynette, I wish the same for you. 🙂
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ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…
sorry… that was a primal scream of rage… at men… at cruelty… at those that take advantage… at the users and takers and abusers… because what the hell else can I do?
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I know. It’s too much sometimes reading this stuff. Honestly, I feel the same way when I read these things that happen to other people. Feeling helpless just sucks. But to have you read and respond, even though it frustrates you and pisses you off, it helps. I do believe that unless we start talking openly about these things we won’t get rid of the shame that survivors of abuse inherently carry. And until the shame is gone we won’t have honest conversations and change won’t really happen.
So my point is that you coming here and being a part of this helps me and ultimately helps take away a little of the stigma. Does that make any sense? I have no idea if what I’m writing is translating. (and your primal scream did make me chuckle. I know you weren’t necessarily trying to be funny, but it’s always nice to lighten things up a little). Thank you Art.
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no… thank you… sniff…
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Oh, Gretchen.
I’m sorry you were hurt.
I’m sorry people can be awful.
I’m glad that you are brave.
I’m glad that you are honest and kind and open.
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Thank you Diana. I’m glad that I’m able to have a safe place to be open about this. I’m so incredibly grateful that the little corner of the internet that we operate in is so encouraging and supportive and kind, and I’m glad that I’ve been able to meet you and find a kinship. The connections have helped me tremendously. Because of you and so many others in our blogging community I feel like I’m surrounded by a lot of good people.
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🙂 It is nice to have a place that is so supportive of writing from different perspectives and about such varying topics.
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Gretchen — I am at work and grateful for my office door. You have me weeping openly. I can’t even say anymore. I’ll talk to you when I can.
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Oh, I’m sorry this upset you or caught you off guard. Yes, we’ll catch up later. Thank you, my friend.
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No need to say sorry… it just broke me.
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Good lord, Gretchen. I don’t cry, and I’m a mess right now. What a fucking warrior you are, so brave, so strong, so resilient. I sit here amazed at your resolve filled with hope because I know you can and you will. I want to be hear along the way should you need someone to remind you of your words and to continue to tell you to “be free.”
Your writing never fails to leave me with all of the feels as Lizzi would say.
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Thank you Mandi. All of these comments have me emotional at the moment. You are amazing and your support and encouragement is so vital to me right now. I will likely need the reminder, if you ever get the sense I’m retreating just slap me on the back of the head and yell at me “Be free, dammit!” Thank you sweet friend. xo
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My heart is breaking for you, yet filled with hope, because I can feel your hope. Children are so resilient. It’s just sickening that they have to be, sometimes under the most hideous circumstances. There are times when I think nowhere in the world is safe for children. Not even their own homes. This is a brave and powerful post. If only it could’ve been about something other than this. I’m sending you hugs over the interwebz.
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Thank you so much Kathleen. I am very hopeful. Honestly, I’ve lived a very happy life. But the idea that it wasn’t affecting me or my relationships was a myth I told myself my whole life.
I too sometimes feel like the world’s not safe for our children. I struggle as a mom with trying not to be too overprotective yet still vigilant. It’s a tough thing to balance.
Thank you for your kind words. *hugs* to you too.
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Gretchen…I had no idea. Absolutely none.
It’s a weird feeling knowing you can come out of hiding but not knowing how. It’s also a weird feeling to knowing you can hide without even being aware of it.
You can do this, though. Tearing down a wall is a process and it will take time. It sounds like you’ve got a really good support system, too.
I wish you all the best. If you ever need a sympathetic ear…I’m a descent listener and I’ve played the hide and seek game, too.
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Scott, you’re good people, you know that? Thank you. It is incredibly frustrating to not know HOW to come out and allow the emotions to happen. It sounds ridiculously simple but for some reason it’s the hardest thing for me to do. Multiple layers to work through I guess. And yes, that damn wall. That’s a whole other beast. Thank you for always being so supportive.
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Your words are so powerful. I was cheering you on, I felt you right there spreading your wings. You’ll be reborn. You’re safe.
I’m so sorry for the abuse you were subjected to. Your writing is going to help survivors everywhere as well as begin your own healing.
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Oh Lisa, if this can make one person feel less alone or come out of the place of shame and guilt, I would be so incredibly grateful. I love that you say you could feel me spreading my wings, I kind of feel that way too after writing this. I believe in imagery affecting outcomes and every time I feel stuck I’m going to try to remember what you said here. Thank you.
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Interesting. You shut me down a different way. No chills. No coldness. Just the odd feeling of a box of some kind, descending around *something* and folding it away.
I am numb. I hate that. Because I feel like I can’t support you properly or offer anything good, instead I’m making this comment about me, and that’s pretty shitty too.
*sigh*
You wrote beautifully. Wonderfully clearly, and it seems as though you’re developing your self-analysis and figuring out where the different feelings come from and where they should go, and what their heritage is. I’m proud of you, and I really, really hope that it helps you heal.
I want you to be able to cry and throw things and scream your rage.
In all honesty I want you to be able to sharpen your fingernails and find some spiked knuckle-dusters and hob-nailed boots and do a number on the bastard who did this to you, and I want you to hit him until you can’t move your arms and spit on him and tell him he’d better not fucking cry. That’s what I want.
Compassionate sort, aren’t I.
But I want you to be able to take that broken, scared little girl by the hand and bring her out into the sunshine, where she can feel its light on her skin, and look into your eyes and know that she did so, so well. I want you to be able to hug her and thank her, and for her to know that she saved you and allowed your life to be GOOD.
And then I want you to walk hand in hand and climb trees and talk about all the things which got missed. And in the end, I want her to be as free as she’s allowed you to be.
I love you, G. I want you to heal and I’m convinced that you will. And when I come to Murica, if you don’t stalk me, I’m gonna find you. I need to hug you, at least once. If that’s allowed.
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You make me laugh and cry all in the space of one comment Lizzi. First, you’ve never given bad comment in all the time I’ve known you. Second, you make me laugh with the “spiked knuckle-dusters” and the “hob nailed boots” I’ll never think of “Bless your boots the same.” 🙂 And I suppose I should want to beat the shit out of him but it’s not something that occurs to me, even when you suggest it. I’m pretty sure that is indication that I’m not “there” yet. I think when I want to do that it will be a victorious milestone.
And third, to hear you say the rest, about talking to the young me, wow. I’ve had to force myself to view it that way because for some reason I refuse to believe that I was as young as I was (the mind’s eye is a tricky thing). But you say it in a way that I relate to, in a way that makes me WANT to do that. And fourth, I will hunt you down (in a good way) when you come to Murica and I will probably piss someone off when they have to share you with me for a few hours or a day, and you’re damn right you’ll hug me! (I’m big on hugs) I love you too Lizzi, I’m grateful that this crazy blogging world brought us together.
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Me too 🙂 And there shall be hugs, then. BRILLIANT.
I’m so glad to know you, and that you ‘got’ what I said. I know I was a bit odd about it, but I’m a bit odd about all sorts of things, so…it is what it is, and if it made sense then FAB 🙂
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Gretchen, I so relate to this post. I am sorry you went through all of this but happy you were saved. Not long ago, I wrote a story for another site and I hope you will read it sometime so you will know that there are others that know EXACTLY how you feel. Love and light to you!!!
http://www.bluntmoms.com/the-performance/
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Wow. It’s going to take me a minute to comment over there. I just read it. I have to gather my thoughts before I do. Thank you for sharing it with me here. Love and light to you, too.
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I so related to how the little girl inside you saved you and held your secret as mine did for so long. Stay in the light ❤
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This is so brave and, somehow, despite the horror, uplifting – welcome out of hiding.
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Thank you Sara, I am so glad you find it uplifting. I was really worried writing it that it would be some depressing awful thing (not that it’s a million laughs or anything!) But I really wanted to convey the hope that I feel.
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It gets lonely by yourself in there.
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(It gets lonely by myself in here, too.)
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Glad you are here, and am convinced that you will be safe and you will be free. 🙂 Thank you for sharing. 🙂
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Thank you! I will be free. Progress…
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I get so angry and full of despair when I read about situations like this that happen to little girls and boys. It’s just wrong, wrong, wrong! And I feel useless and powerless to do anything and I wish I could. And so often abusers were once a little boy or girl who themselves were abused and helpless – and so I’m also angry for them while I am angry at them. It’s heartbreaking all the way around. While your post was raw and brutal, I’m so glad your on the way to your happy ending!
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I know. I get angry too. But predators are created and I agree, something must have happened to them too. I always think about that. It’s such a vicious cycle and it’s something no one wants to talk about which means it just continues… Thank you for your kind words.
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Yes!! This is awesome. Come back.
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Ha! I will! 🙂
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Reblogged this on newworldmom.
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This hit me like a ton of bricks. It feels like you opened up my psyche and just started writing everything I have ever felt. Thank you so much for writing this, so beautifully, I might add. It is so nice to know that other women have been through the same situations and are now strong amazing talented women. I just want to hug you!
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Aww, thank you Darla. Your words are so affirming and encouraging. I hate that anyone can relate to this. But there is some strange comfort in knowing that others are surviving and thriving. *hugs*
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