Warning label

 

I should come with a warning label:

 

Open in a well ventilated room.

Contents under pressure.

 This is a story about sexual abuse.  It’s about pedophiles and sexual predators.  It is not pretty.  If the subject makes you squeamish, then please read on. You need to hear this.  As long as we continue to look away, the wounds will fester and the villains will walk free. This is not the story of one person but the story of how the sexual abuse of children is the “gift that keeps on giving”.  It destroys the lives of all it touches.  The person who’s abused is crippled and unable to sustain a healthy intimate relationship.  As parents, they are either insanely protective or they blind themselves to the problem and make their own children perfect targets.  When the girls are abused, the brothers are damaged by the events too.  The predator either alienates the boy from his family,  making him feel impotent or he pulls him into the act making him a co-conspirator.

 I reject the word “molested” – it minimizes the crime and makes it seem like a small thing, an accidental jostle in the hallway, a molestation, no harm intended.  In order not to offend delicate sensibilities, we call it molestation.  It’s actually rape and we should call it rape.  In this country, we allow grown men to rape children and treat it like it’s a misdemeanor.  Treat it like it’s a matter of reimbursement for property damage.  It’s more like homicide.  It’s a soul killer, not just for one person, but for the whole family.  Not just for one lifetime but for generations, as people struggle in silence to heal a broken spirit.