One summer weekend, we decided to put up the tent in the backyard. I was so excited to spend time with my brother. We laughed, played, rode bikes, and watched movies. That night, we brought our sleeping bags and flash lights out to the tent, and opened the top so we could see the stars. We laid there telling silly jokes and making faces in the light of our flash lights. Suddenly he was in my sleeping bag and started touching me. I tried to push him away, but he told me to be quiet or I'd get in trouble. Before I knew it he was forcing himself on me. When it was over, I climbed out of the tent, threw up, and ran in the house and shut myself in my room. I had no idea what that was. I was only ten. My mom hadn't even explained sex to me, appropriate and inappropriate touching or to tell an adult when something happened. I knew it wasn't right, I felt so dirty, sick.
The next morning I stayed in my room. I didn't want my mom to see me. Somehow I thought that if she looked at me she'd know what I just did. I took the longest shower, and avoided my brother the rest of the day. Never again did I stay the night in the tent with my brother. I avoided him every weekend he was home for the next seven years. I didn't talk to anyone about what had happened, didn't date, and didn't have sex again until I was eighteen.
When I was seventeen I finally got to the point where I could forgive my brother. He had called every day for a year wanting to talk to me. Every day I told my mom I didn't want to talk to him. One day we received a disturbing phone call. The boys home that Ken had been living in for the past few years was being sued for sexually abusing the boys. My brother was one of the boys who had been repeatedly raped by the staff during his stay there. I didn't believe it. I thought he was just lying about it to get attention. I told my mother I wanted to be there in the court room to hear what happened. I needed to. After hearing Ken explain all that happened to him, I cried. A part of me felt so glad that he had to endure that. But my heart broke for him as well. Now he finally knew what it was like to be violated. I cried for days about it. I had so many emotions. I was happy, sad, angry, devastated. But most of all, I felt relief. I felt like I could finally forgive him for what he had done. About a week after court was over, he called home. Again he asked to speak to me. My mom was surprised when I said I wanted to talk to him. He talked for a little while, and asked me what I'd been up to. That's when I said, "I forgive you". He didn't know what I was talking about. He asked me what I was talking about. I remember pausing, wondering how to say it. I finally just said, "I forgive you for raping me when we were younger". My heart was pounding out of my chest. He was quiet for a little bit, and then I heard him start to cry. He cried for about ten minutes. He apologized for hurting me and vowed to make it up to me. We talked for a while, and things were different after that.
Forgiveness is the most important part of healing from abuse. Whether the abuse is sexual, physical, mental, or any other type of abuse, if you don't learn to forgive, you can never move on with your life. Many people can't move past what was done to them, and blame themselves, or continue to hate the person who hurt them. If I had not forgiven my brother, I never would have been able to feel better about myself and start to date. I had to forgive in order to be able to start to trust. I know it's hard, but if you're holding on to a resentment, or anger, please forgive. Forgive your abuser. It's not your fault.
*Name has been changed.
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