Something died inside me !

13th of July 2020

Being a victim of sexual abuse changes the world. It makes you vulnerable and fragile, or it makes you extra strong and a fighter.

If you are by nature an over sensitive individual you find a way to survive in the cruel world and you shield you with emotional armour.

It might be difficult for your fellow human beings to realise who and how you are. Even those closest to you might wonder.

I was rejected by my abuser, or that was my feeling as a child. The rejection followed into adulthood and I found a way. I made sure to reject you before you rejected me and then you would not be able to hurt me, at least not as much.

The abuse also took away from me the ability to trust and most of all the ability to trust love.

Love was something ugly and mean, love was mean and it hurt, love was not for everyone and love was never going to happen to me or so I assumed.

I was 17 and longing for someone to care for me, someone to make me happy and someone to hold me close and never let go. I did find someone to hold on to. I fell madly in love and we were madly in love with each other. What more could there be? I was happy and thought the world was waiting for me and would embrace me.

I loved my school and I loved learning, but I also loved my lover. We got engaged on a rainy day and I came home to my mother and asked if she would not wish me well. She told me NO.

Everyone that wanted the best for me told me not to continue the relationship. The more they urged me to think the more I loved the one and only. I was not going to listen to people who did not know how much he did love me and how happy he made me. I was not going to listen to the people who told me he was not a very good man. I knew him differently and he was nice to me.

There were signs, I did not notice them or I did not want to notice them. In my heart I knew I was not being treated with dignity. I did not want to see that in many ways I was put number 2 and he was number one. We were not equal and I did not want to see it. I had after all in my mind found the love of my life, I thought he loved me and I loved him with all my heart and soul.

I got pregnant.

We got married.

My mother made my wedding dress and she refused to attend the wedding. She hated the man.

The sun shone and we got married in a church. I did not want to have a party, my mother would not be there and I did not want everyone to know that she did not like my husband. There was a dinner, the grooms parents, the priest and one friend of his family were the guests. That was the wedding day but some gifts arrived and the mother in love decided to have a party, a wedding party, for those who had sent gifts. Some days later the party went on and still not my mother and in fact not a single person from my family or friends.

Even though obvious I did not understand how strange this was, my friends did not accept my choice, my mother did not accept my choice and once again I was alone among several people, rejected by those I wanted by my side.

There had been high hopes for me and my education; I was the one in my mother’s family that people thought would be a scholar. The intelligent girl, that was me and I wasted it all on an illusion.

When I was in labour something happened between my mother and my husband. I never knew what but after that day they hated each other dearly.

I went to the hospital and gave birth to my baby.

My mother never came for a visit at the hospital. She came to my home when I got home from the hospital and she wanted to see her grandchild.

I opened the door; my husband told me that if she came inside he would leave and never come back. My mother looked at me and asked if I was really not going to show her the child.

There I stood, 18 years old, having to choose between my mother and my husband and child.

I chose my husband and told my mother she had to leave. She was angry. I was afraid and broken.

At that moment something broke permanently inside me, not far from similar to when the young man went on top of me, the eight years old child, and it hurt so much but I had to allow it because of love!

Many years later in my life, a dear friend and psychologist, told me that this moment at the front door to my apartment having to choose between my mother and husband had damaged me for good.

After some time and another child I got a divorce from an abusive husband.

When I look back I understand that I never forgave him for letting me make the choice. I never asked what happened between him and my mother when I was taken to the hospital to give birth. I did not dare to ask.

When I look back I understand that my friends and family saw what I did not see, that the love I thought was there for me, was not.

I was damaged goods. I know that now. The sexual abuse during childhood had damaged my soul. I did not remember the summer and there was no way I could get help. I just knew something was strange inside me.

Why did I sometimes feel this terrible anger and hurt suddenly out of the blue, a bleeding hurt which I could not explain.

Why did I sometimes feel like I was crying with so much pain that I would not be able to breathe, even though I was not crying?

The consequences were there, I just did not understand because my soul knew that it would be too much to remember and it would destroy me if I did.

My soul protected me. My strength grew, my life continued and my lessons I learned. I hid my pain, I never spoke about how I felt, my children did not know, they just knew that I was not a good mother!

Now I have got a teacher, a teacher that has showed me how worthy I am of me, a teacher I can trust for me and my feelings and a teacher that taught me the hard way that it is ok to feel and be vulnerable.

A teacher that also taught me that being rejected is ok. Rejection has nothing to do with my self-worth. I can love myself with all my heart, no matter what others think. I know me, I know how strong I am and I know where my strength comes from.

I don´t have to be the one to reject so I won’t be hurt. I can have my heart broken for a while but I rise up and mend my heart and become whole again. It is my birth right.

Piece by piece I mend my soul. Piece by piece I share my life with you my reader. Piece by piece I walk one step ahead every day and love my life more by every step taken.

I am one of the lucky ones. I have a task to mend my soul and it will take time. I have got time and I am using it well. I am getting to know my little child and my grown woman again and I am embracing them both with love and keeping them close to my heart. I can share my experience with you and it might help you or someone you love. Take what you think is useful and leave the rest.

Hulda Björnsdóttir

Author: hulda9

I am Icelandic but live in Portugal. When I was young I had a dream. I wanted to travel around the world. I wanted to experience different cultures. My dream came true and I went to London. When going through the Chinese display in the British Museum I began to cry. I cried and experienced this longing and sadness. At that moment I knew I had to go to China. Arriving there for the first time I felt finally at home, a feeling I never had in Iceland. In Iceland I was an outsider. My mother passed away and I decided to move. My destination was China. I lived there for a while but had to sell my house and move because permanent residence was not granted to me. I moved to Portugal and that was 6 and a half years ago. In China I taught English and dance. In Portugal I am a retired resident. Now I am 72 years old. I love to write and want to share with you some of my experience in those 2 countries and also just my simple thoughts. Portugal is my final destination on this earth. Even though I have many years behind me, my mind is clear. I enjoy the life and make the most of every day. I love to sing, to study and most of all I love to be alive. I hope you will enjoy reading my thoughts that I share with you.

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