I wonder how many people have never told. Have chosen to forget. Have fought to forget.
Sometimes you succeed at forgetting until the evil rises up through your skin like oil on the surface of the water. And people scoff at the oil. And call you dirty.
Maybe they call you weak. Or weird.
And wonder why you haven't cleaned yourself up.
In Christian circles they say you "just need to trust Jesus." They think that enough theological knowledge will fill the gaping, bottomless void that is the damaged soul.
The damaged goods become suspect within the community that should be the safest place in the world. Obedience becomes the key. Emotions become the enemy.
There are no victims, they say.
Take responsibility for your own sin, they say.
Sort your own junk, they say.
Get over it, they say.
How? Just how?
When you have been rendered voiceless, personless, powerless.
How do you grab onto bootstraps that are broken with hands that were severed?
Statistics say that at least one in four women have been sexually abused in some way by the time they are 18. At least.
And one in six men.
And yet the silence. So much silence.