Broken boys, mending men

That is the title of one book I found in a lonely shelf in National Book Store. Subtitled “Recovery from childhood sexual abuse,” the book was written for survivors, parents and teacher. The writer, Stephen D. Grubman-Black, knows whereof he speaks. Aside from being an associate professor at the University of Rhode Island, he is also a counselor and the survivor of childhood sexual abuse.

The book notes that one out of six American men was sexually abused. But such an abuse is underreported and largely misunderstood. Stereotypes abound, one of which is that the perpetrators are all sick gay men. Far from it. Some are, but most of them are straight men who themselves were victims of childhood abuse. The problem is spiral, and it stems from a question of power and control.

The survivors describe how their father, mothers, brothers, uncles, neighbors and trusted family members destroyed their notion of trust, and turned sexuality into something dirty and shameful. As in the case of female rape victims, the perpetrators tell the victims that they were abused because they wanted it. The abuse, and this perverted mind-set, can only reverberate in the adult life of the victims.

They become emotionally barren as they grow into adulthood. Said one victim, “Since then I had been so afraid of emotional closeness, too. I suspected deep down that people had ulterior motives and I feared that I, too, was guilty.” If not emotionally barren, they employ the approach-avoidance technique in relationships. In short, urong-sulong. This leads to a sense of isolation, and difficulty in keeping long-term relationship.

 Listen to one confession: “I end up giving conflicting messages to people: ‘I need you. I want you, and it has to be now and always and forever, but if for any reason you don’t live up to my needs and expectations, just forget it. I don’t want to be bothering you. Good-bye.’ That way, I get to say goodbye first.”

 The sacredness of sexuality has also been lost. “The burdens of denial, forgiveness, and secrecy are indeed crushing and suffocating for the boy-victim. As boys, we were put off-balance many times, not knowing or understanding how to react to our feelings, yet feeling responsible for someone else’s. We grew up too fast. A 10-year-old is not supposed to be worried or concerned about ‘taking care’ of someone else’s physical needs. A seven-year-old boy is not physically or emotionally prepared to be a ‘surrogate’ sexual partner for one of his parents. A 15-year-old should not feel that his only escape from a situation that is taking advantage of his physical excitement exists in drugs, self-inflicted injury, or prostitution.”

 But we are only partly defined by our past. We have to let it go, so it will stop haunting us. “We have the potential — we have the right — to be sexual beings. We need to understand that regardless of the sensations and feelings associated with our early victimizations, these experiences did not define our sexuality. Nor did they define or describe our sexual preferences. We should never permit them to define who we are now.”

The last point is important, because we live in an age of clichés. Just because one’s father was distant when one was growing up, or one was sexually abused by another man at five, then one automatically grows up gay. One can be straight and seemingly in control of one’s life such that it looks like the shimmering surface of a lake — until one fine day when something ripples beneath the surface, and the turmoil rises.

How to begin healing? By the ancient way of telling and retelling the stories that bruised us. “The process of telling stories is difficult because we had been told (ordered, threatened, frightened, or emotionally coerced) not to tell, and the old echoes may be quite loud at times, although nobody but us hears them. It is very important for us to tell, the sooner the better. Remember, though, it is never too late to tell.”

Prayer, meditation, and keeping a journal; music, poetry, and the arts; counseling, therapy, and self-help groups — all these could help. They are markers on the road to healing the victims of childhood sexual abuse. But in the end, “the key words are listen, patience, acceptance, and love. I don’t think, unless he asks for it, that he wants advice on how to feel or act. I believe that what he still wants is someone to love him, a need and feeling whose source lies deep within the little boy lost and hurt.”

* * *

Comments can be sent to danton_ph@yahoo.com.

Show comments