Sexual abuse, an unseen, lonely and shame-creating experience. Our bodies hold sexual trauma whether we acknowledge it or not. They will try and tell us that something is not right. They will tell us by numbing the pain or by having extreme reactions to what might seem trivial. 

As someone who has experienced multiple sexual traumas, I feel the score. I feel the toll it takes on my body. 

Our bodies hold the footprint of what has been done to us. 

We live with the consequences of others’ actions. These are the repercussions of sin entering the world.

Our bodies will try to heal themselves and cope with pain by eating too much or too little, or by acting out sexually, physically or emotionally. Until we acknowledge the pain and the effect of trauma on our lives, our bodies will continue to try to warn us. 

Our bodies want to be heard; they want compassion for what has been done to us. This may seem different from person to person. Trauma is not a linear experience, nor does it take the same shape. Each person’s trauma and response looks different.

The effect it has on how we view food, our bodies, and our relationships with others can be monumental. Sexual trauma is confusing, painful and severely lonely. Food restricting, binging or purging allows a sense of control when control has been ripped away. These reactions to gain control serve a purpose. They keep us alive and must be acknowledged for what they have done for us in the name of survival.  

My body reacts when anything gets somewhat close to the wounds. I react in ways that those around me don’t quite understand.  The way I cope with my pain looks confusing and wrong on the outside, causing some of those around me to distance themselves. For others, the pain of my experiences can be too heavy for them to hold, causing them to distance themselves from me. Being isolated after trauma will only cause more loneliness, shame, and pain.

A common reaction to pain is to try and fix it. This is not a wrong reaction. Our minds and bodies were designed to want to help others. Often, in my vulnerable state, when turning to friends and family, others have tried to fix my pain, and in turn, I feel that I am the problem to be repaired. In moments of vulnerability, all I desire is someone with skin and bones to sit with me. No fixing, just presence.

Jesus offers us unconditional love; the love that I have a hard time believing, feeling, seeing, and receiving. The truth is that we will be in a cycle of pain and hurt and trauma until we are with Jesus. The least we can do is show ourselves, and others, compassion, the same compassion that was shown to us by Him. 

To those who desire to sit with us in pain: resist the urge to find the right words, resist the need to fix the pain. The best way to be there is to simply ask, “How can I be there for you right now?” And to repeat over and over “this isn’t your fault” and “this sucks so much.”  

On earth, we see each other as broken and needing repair. But, Jesus doesn’t see me as broken. He sees me as whole and capable of bringing love and joy to those around me.