For years, I never told my husband that I’d been sexually abused by some of my uncles. Why? Because (1) I was stupid enough to think that because I didn’t let them actually have sex with me that it didn’t effect me, and (2) because I didn’t want him to view me as “damaged goods.”
But about six years into our marriage, I finally took my counselor’s advice and explained to Greg everything that had happened to me when I was between the ages of 11 & 13. One particular uncle would wake me up in the middle of the night and escort me from my cousin’s bedroom into the living room where he would grope me and force me to kiss him, which was like licking an ash tray, and my upper lip felt so assaulted by his thick, bristly mustache.
As I explained all of this to Greg, he exclaimed, “Is THAT why you get so angry when you smell cigarette smoke? And is THAT why you rarely kiss me anymore since I grew a mustache?” I had never consciously made those connections, but I couldn’t deny that they made perfect sense. The very next morning, Greg shaved his mustache off, climbed back in bed, and scooped me up in his arms to catch up on the months of kissing we’d missed out on. I felt so incredibly SAFE in his arms, and discovered a new level of sexual passion for my protector.
Ladies, if you’ve suffered any sort of sexual abuse, please know that I am SO sorry you had to endure that. But don’t let your abuser rob you of any more than he already has!!! Invite your husband into your healing process, share what you’ve experienced, and let his love be a healing balm to your soul.
Wishing you the wholeness you deserve,