When Is It Safe to Tell a Story?

UNITED STATES
Psychology Today

February 27, 2018

By JoAnn Stevelos, MS, MPH

Safety First When Reporting Child Sexual Abuse

I was thinking about the issue of child sexual abuse (CSA) as a whole, and in the context of keeping children safe during disclosure. It caused me to evaluate my intentions in writing this post. My intentions turned into a keen interest, as well as felt paralyzing. I froze. What was I doing? Why I am trying to write this blog? Will anyone care? Does it matter what happened to me over forty years ago? Who am I to tell this story—another story—there are so many now with #metoo and #timesup? The capacity to feel apathetic, cut off from one’s own feelings about significant trauma, betrayal, collusion, and abandonment is the defense of ego, of self. It is the coping mechanism I have learned to use when feeling vulnerable and at risk for exploitation.

There are moral and ethical concerns I have had when writing about my experience of sexual abuse. Deep moral questions bothered me when I set words to paper. What is my moral obligation to share my story? What is our obligation, and what is the obligation of others to protect future children? It is easier to say nothing, or do so quietly, involving as few people as possible. This is what the organizational cultures of many patriarchal institutions have constructed as an acceptable practice in handling claims of crimes against children. Where are the witnesses to these crimes? Who is bearing witness? And why don’t they speak up? It has been my experience that their silence is imposed from above, and or internalized. And what lies underneath the silence are complex relationships—typically family relationships— because children are most often sexually abused by someone they know.

Note: This is an Abuse Tracker excerpt. Click the title to view the full text of the original article. If the original article is no longer available, see our News Archive.