It was the darkest time of my life. For the first time I was personally experiencing what evil really was and what it does to destroy lives. When someone brings darkness into your life it’s so hard to see the light that is waiting to help you.
In my mind, sexual abuse had always been one of the worst things that could happen to a person. I don’t know why I thought it would be the worst thing over a myriad of many awful things that could happen in a person’s life. I had never experienced abuse in my childhood. I had been raised in a home where things like this did not happen. Like all families, mine was not perfect, but my parents loved each other and they loved their children. They were good people who were active in the community and strong in their church, committed to living the gospel of Jesus Christ. I was taught right from wrong and was encouraged to live a good life, to be honest and kind to others and have compassion for everyone. I was taught to be respectful and to love my family and other people. It was a happy home filled with love. It was not an abusive home, and I had no comprehension of such behavior and how such a dark thing would feel.
There hadn’t been much talk in the media about sexual abuse up to this point, but there is no doubt that it been a serious problem for hundreds of years. Though it had been going on for a very long time, I think no one had dared address the problem publicly. But the subject of child sexual abuse was slowly beginning to emerge in television and in the media. People were beginning to open up and discuss their experiences and the devastating affects it had on their lives. It still wasn’t in the mainstream, but it was in the beginning stages of awareness. I don’t know why abuse had been in my thoughts, other than I think I was being prepared to deal with it.
One night a few weeks before my “hell day”, Phil had been working late. After getting the children in bed, I was tired and sat down to watch some T.V., not a common activity for me with two little children to take care of. When Phil arrived home, I had been watching a detective show. The subject of the show was about child sex abuse. In the story line the detectives were trying to solve the case, and find out who was responsible for sexually abusing a child. This subject matter made me feel so uncomfortable and was very troubling to me, but for some odd reason it was riveting to watch this story unfold. Phil’s arrival came at the very end of the show. He walked in the door, saw that I was upset and asked me if I had been crying to which I replied, “Yes”. I explained to him what the show had been about and that I was crying because it was so upsetting to me. I was sitting on the couch as I explained my feelings and he remained standing. When I finished telling him about it, he just stood there staring at me for a minute, didn’t say a word and walked out of the room. I had an odd feeling about his lack of response to me, but I couldn’t imagine why he wouldn’t say anything. I didn’t realize it then, but Phil was guilty of doing the same thing I was watching on TV, and he was already past feeling any emotions that would admit that what he was doing to children was wrong.
Time after time I have asked myself, “why didn’t I see this coming?” I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t seen the signs of his dis-function or of the abuse. Now they are glaringly obvious to me, but they hadn’t been apparent to me before. I wanted to know what was wrong with me and why I hadn’t seen the signs that would have caused more suspicion, so one day in a counseling session I asked my psychologist to give me a “personality test”. I wanted to understand the flaw in myself that allowed me to be so stupid about it all. He said that it really wasn’t necessary, but I insisted on it, so he administered a test. At my following counseling session I asked Mark, “OK – tell me what the test said. Tell me what is wrong with me.” He smiled kindly and said, “Sophia, nothing is wrong with you. The test showed nothing.” We talked further and concluded that I wouldn’t have known about what was going on because I was naïve to the signs of sexual abuse. It was unfamiliar territory to me. I also had to realize that Phil was a master of manipulation and deceit. He knew how to cover his indiscretions. My counselor told me that he had met and worked with other pedophiles and criminals who had done horrendous crimes, and it was his opinion that Phil was one of the most manipulative people he had come in contact with. In a way that made me feel better that I had been duped, but it also made me feel worse.
There were signs of Phil’s problems that I didn’t recognize, and at first I blamed myself for them. I often felt rejected by Phil. At times he made me feel that I was not lovable, unattractive and just plain unworthy of being loved. I thought that if I had been just a bit prettier, a bit smarter, more of what he needed me to be then he wouldn’t have done this appalling thing. I know now that this train of thought was wrong, but for a while it was very real to me. I took personal responsibility and blamed myself for something that wasn’t my fault even though I honestly had no idea what behaviors Phil was participating in. Through the years I still occasionally blamed myself for what happened. I didn’t blame myself because I had known that Phil was abusing or what was going on, and I never would have approved of or encouraged his abusive behavior. But I blamed myself because I made the decision to marry Phil in the first place. If I hadn’t married him, none of this would have happened. Children close to me wouldn’t have been hurt, people’s lives wouldn’t have been damaged if I just hadn’t married him, so I blamed myself. I was experiencing my worst fear and I blamed myself that it came into my life. But I also know that the adversary had a part in what I felt. Satan continued to try and make me doubt myself no matter what course of action I took. He would love it if I would continually blame myself and focus on it being my fault rather than where the blame really belonged – on Phil and his choices.
The Lord has comforted me and reminded me that though I have not been perfect in my life, my desire has always been to follow the Lord. I am trying to live the kind of life that God would want me to live. After some time of healing, I know that none of this was my fault, but at times it felt that way.