Telling The Truth Is Dangerous
But it’s worth telling. And what makes it worth it, sometimes, is when someone else contacts you out of the blue–about something you’d kind of forgotten you’d written–and tells you that they had the same experience and they understand, and that your words have helped them in some way.
This is why it’s so important not to bullshit on the page. You never know where your words are going to land.
It took a long time before I was willing to simply state things I’d kept secret for years. When one grows up in a severely dysfunctional household, silence is enforced so the dysfunction can reign. Even when you become an adult and are ostensibly “free”, the silence is enforced. You’re not allowed to speak clearly because the world will end. Nobody will love you, the world will end, disaster will ensue and it will be ALL YOUR FAULT.
Or so you’re told.
To speak clearly and simply, to refuse to obfuscate, to stand your ground and refuse to carry the secrets for the people who should have loved and protected you and didn’t…that requires courage, or stubbornness, or whatever damn thing you want to call it. It becomes so much exponentially easier when someone else speaks the same kind of truth and you realize you are not a horrible freak and a mistake, you’re not the only person in the world who went through this, that you’re not somehow lacking. It strikes right at the heart of the myth that is forced on children in that kind of situation–the myth that they somehow deserved to be treated that way.
It is a myth. It is untrue. No child deserves that.
But children grow up and we are faced with a choice. Telling the truth also requires that you don’t treat the people you love like trash, using that childhood trauma as the excuse. Sinking into a sea of victimhood is another lie, and an insidious one at that. This is our choice: to face it somehow, or to sink. Some of us sink, and I understand why. The weight gets to be too much when you’re struggling for a shore that always recedes like a gambler’s dream. It’s hard to tell the truth when your entire life conspires to keep you complicit in a lie. I am not angered by this. Understanding breeds compassion, and I understand. Christ, do I ever understand.
I am one of the lucky. And maybe I can throw a line, and there’s a chance someone can catch it. That chance is worth taking, to me. I am lucky that I have the energy to throw the line–and I am endlessly lucky to have a line to throw. The language is a line. It was my salvation.
I will not let go of my end. I promise to hold on as long as I can, as hard as I can, and to pull with everything in me.
So to you–you know who you are–thank you for telling me that my words mattered to you. We do not have to feel alone.
Thank you for having the courage to speak.
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February 19th, 2009 at 1:16 pm
I can’t believe the amount of lies we are “required” to tell each day. My husband came from such a family. It affects our relationship of 39 years every day. Anyone that survives is lucky. Anyone who survives without scars that affect daily life is a miracle.
February 19th, 2009 at 4:59 pm
I grew up in a household of great fun and great dysfunction, alcoholism, sexual abuse, my brother dying of leukemia and on and on.
I said great fun first because I realize that I was very very lucky that amongst all the crap we still had laughter and fun.
I am also very lucky because my family grew better with time, a few confrontations and for me, a heck of a lot of counseling.
I survived childhood through books. Lots and lots of books, a 1st year university reading ability in Grade 5.
I still use books to ease my days and love your writing Lilith.
Keep writing, keep reading, keep talking. It only gets better if you work at it.
I have done my best as an adult to never use any of my childhood crap as an excuse, a crutch or as an apology for anything I have done. I couldn’t control what happened to me in childhood but I have to own my behaviour now – good or bad.
Does it still affect me, at times. Does it control me, nope.
February 19th, 2009 at 5:38 pm
well said Lili, well said.
February 19th, 2009 at 11:51 pm
Thank you for saying this. I grew up with a verbally abusive father until I was 16 (the first time I cut him out of my life) and it was not an easy thing to deal with – especially because he never directed at my sisters, just me. And it was ALWAYS the “I deserve it” defense. “You know, we’re never tense until Friday when we know you’re coming over for the weekend.”
After I stopped talking to him for a while he seemed to get over some of his anger and we started talking again, and for a long time I never said anything because the understanding was that if I brought it up, I was dredging up old issues, or causing drama. So I had to pretend to have a good relationship with a man who, at the worst of times, made me ill to be around and at the best of times just made me feel uncomfortable and then guilty for feeling uncomfortable.
It wasn’t until recently that I finally tried to sit down with him and say “I still have a lot of trust issues with you because of the way you were when I was younger.” I wanted to talk to him because I thought, “hell, if I’m going to try to have a relationship with him, I need to be honest and get the issues out on the table so we can work on them.” His response? “Suck it up.” Yeeeeeeeah. Horrible man!
He didn’t like that I was bringing something up that made him feel uncomfortable or like a bad person. “I’m not gonna feel bad about that for the rest of my life.” I basically told him that if he couldn’t at least try to talk about it with me, we wouldn’t have a relationship because I didn’t want to be around a man who couldn’t even admit that what he did to his own son was abuse. He chose the lie. I chose the truth.
I’m happy with my decision to stop talking to him. My shoulders feel a lot lighter without him in my life and the holidays were certainly much more enjoyable. And now—I don’t feel guilty for thinking my father is a bad man. Because he gave me all the proof I needed to set the truth free.
Thanks for telling the truth, Lili! It really is important to others who are out there and are still afraid to tell the truth.
February 20th, 2009 at 5:33 am
Thank you…I’m not quite sure how to put in to words how much this means, for someone else to understand.
I was well protected growing up, well loved my mother and grandmother; they say that when abuse happens is usually from someone you know. Mine was my uncle, it wasn’t awful and it was only once, but it still haunts me 20 years later. Even to this day I fight the emotional scars…but I will not let it rule my life, or control who I am.
Once again; thank you Lili. You rock!
February 20th, 2009 at 9:09 am
I think I’m going to get my hair cut.
February 20th, 2009 at 10:57 am
Thank you Lilith. I am ever-grateful for the line you throw out there to us.
February 20th, 2009 at 12:54 pm
Lilith, I love it when you write this stuff, it is so honest and so good and so healing. I grew up with a mentally ill, brain damaged father who was extremely abusive. We had NO visitors, so I had no idea how to have a visitor when I got my own home. I still freak out inside when someone comes to visit, and i’m 51 and a psychotherapist!
keep telling it. Keeps holding on…
March 8th, 2009 at 8:54 pm
Thank you, Lili. I was absolutly breathless when I saw this post and spent the next 20 minutes crying my heart and eyes out.
At months end, it is tentativly planned for me to leave. Scared, confused and having second thoughts. I know you had previously written that you got out and were gloriously happy when you did.
I know this is not what this blog is for- I was trying to find an email address in which to contact you and in finding none, figured I’d take my chances here.
My move will not be far- I am moving with two others, but too far from my current job, which I will most likely have to quit (my hours were reduced anyway). My worry is trying to find another job in the new area. At 25, I know this move is long overdue. I’ve started looking and know it will be a tough one. I am almost tempted to stay where I am, but know I will hate myself if I don’t move.
Might you have any advice for me? Or know of any organizations that be able to assist me in finding a new job? Or anything at all??
Again, thank you. I’m sorry for bothering you about this, but I thought you might be able to point me in the right direction.