There is a place deep inside each of us that houses and protects the most elemental parts of who we are. Our identity is there, and it is guarded with great care in a place so secure, that to access it takes remarkable effort and trust. Its origins begin even before we are conceived. We are imprinted with certain traits and propensities through our genetics.
What happens when this place, so treasured and individual, is invaded by a virus? A stealth-like manipulator that can at its whim, rearrange the most intricate nuances of our being. How is this possible? It is done discretely and methodically at an age where the individual cannot combat its machinations.
This is childhood sexual abuse. This is where you learn who you are, your value, your importance and whether you are loved. This is the place where your life is defined.
At this core, my core, I was broken. So complete was the damage that it wasn’t even recognized for decades. It’s shown me my worth, how I was “loved” distorted any chance of a normal relationship. This existence is my prison and it is a life sentence.
Now I have separated myself from the world that so often tore this child apart. I have closed my relationships off so as not to harm or be harmed. I have given up every goal and dream for the realization they are literally impossible, because I have decided they are. I am through with life and now I am marking time.
This is childhood sexual abuse…this is the destruction of a person.
The Place to be Real 