in the form of a short note, a meal or dessert, or
the propriety of a listening ear.
There are also some actions we can take in the
civil realm. Lobby your representatives to eliminate the statute of limitations for crimes against
children, both in the criminal statutes and for civil
liability. Institutions should not be shielded from
civil liability by using their leverage to “run out the
clock” on their jeopardy to legal action. Understand
that the Bible teaches clearly that the courts exist
to provide justice for the victims of child sexual
abuse. The Scriptures should not be misused to
manipulate or to dissuade victims from seeking
justice and reparations.
Why did you choose to write the book “Naming
Our Abuse?”
There are many books written on sexual abuse for
women. Unfortunately, the library is pretty small
when the victims are boys who are now men. We
believe we had a unique perspective to share and
wanted to build a tool that could be used by survivors, therapists, and pastors to help men confront
their child sexual abuse experience in a constructive manner. In short, we wrote the book we really
wanted earlier in our journey.
We met after Andrew shared his story as part of
a Sunday morning message series presented at
our church. Kudos to the pastor for his courage
in giving the pulpit to a survivor! A group of male
survivors formed following this message which
continued for several years.
Each of us have undergone years of therapy. In
fact, we still seek professional therapy today, for
various issues. In the course of treatment, we
were encouraged to journal and to write about
whatever we happened to talk about in a session.
Note that each of us has different therapists who
are not affiliated. During our support group meetings, we began to share excerpts of our writings
together. The experience was so powerful for us
we wanted to invite other men and the people who
love them to get a taste of writing therapy.
We settled on a theme and a structure and each
of us contributed four entries for each part of the
book. We intentionally limited the level of detail of
our stories. We avoid salacious and shocking ele-
ments. We sought to share just enough of our stories to invite the reader into the narrative but our
goal is always guided by the desire to prompt the
reader to connect with some of our metaphors to
enter into his own story. Each section concludes
with questions for reflection, writing prompts, and
coping tips. In fact, we’ve already heard from
some therapists that these questions and coping
tips are proving very helpful!
The survivor’s story is validated in the writing.
But there is an indescribable dynamic in, after the
writing, to read what you’ve written out loud. Read
it aloud to your therapist and, hopefully, in a group
of fellow survivors. It’s not easy but it is powerful and it makes a difference. Tears may fall from
everyone, and that’s completely appropriate.
When we had completed the book, we challenged
one another to take an incredibly difficult step, one
endorsed by our therapists. The book ends with
letters each of us wrote to our “little boy.” Doing
so, in a sense, helps to complete the story and
integrate various levels of healing by inviting that
lost, forgotten, lonely little boy that was left beaten
on the side of the road to enter in. In the experience, each of us found a new voice deep within
that facilitated a richer sense of healing and connectedness.
Was Naming the Abuse a tough subject to
write about?
Each of our therapists had been encouraging us
to journal and to write about different aspects of
our recovery process. During our church support
group meetings we would discuss how difficult it
was to attach words to our feelings. So we began
to gently encourage one another to give it a try. At
our next meeting we would take turns reading our
essays. Our hearts were continually lodged in our
throats as we would reflect back to one another
what we had just heard – both in what was spoken
and in what didn’t need to be spoken.
The subject was tough to write about because it
is so intensely intimate, personal, and scary to
see our broader stories connected in ways even
we hadn’t fully seen. What would the other guys
think if I shared the different contours of my anger,
my grief, my gnawing pain, my deepest fears, my
addictions, and so forth? What we found was