We have a serious problem with how we think and talk about child abuse.
by Lynn Beisner
The first time I became aware of
adult children being abused by their parents
was when I went on my fifth date with Ken, a guy I met when I was in
bible college. I was meeting his family for the first time at a
bountiful and delicious Sunday dinner his mother prepared.
I was concentrating on getting a forkful of creamed peas into my
mouth without disgracing myself when Ken’s head snapped back, and I
heard the distinct and grotesque sound of bones and flesh colliding. For
one second, he just let his head rest where his father’s punch had
landed it, back and slightly to his left side. And then slowly, Ken
steadied himself, wiped at the blood streaming down his face, and let
his face fall into a stony mile-long stare.
Ken never looked me in the eye again, not that night, not the next
day, not ever. And I understood why. I was now privy to his darkest
secret, that as a man pushing 30 he was still a victim of child abuse.
After that family dinner with Ken, I fell into one of the darkest
depressions of my life. I was a young adult, still living in my parents’
home and still trying to find my feet while I was constantly being
pushed under by abuse. What kept me going was my belief that at some
point the abuse would end.
Watching Ken’s family, it dawned on me that the abuse I was still
enduring at 19 would probably go on for the rest of my life. It was as
if I saw the entire course of my life flash in front of me. My mother
would never let me go. She would keep abusing me, never allowing me
enough autonomy to leave her, until the day that she finally pushed my
soul so far under water, it drowned.
As it turns out, some of my
dark thoughts that followed my date with
Ken were wrong. Within two years, I slipped my leash by getting married
to my first husband. And while I continued to be abused by my parents
until well after I was 40, I still managed to have a lot of good
moments.
Ken and I are not alone. Many adult children of abusers
continue to deal with ongoing abuse long after we have reached the age
of maturity.
We have a serious problem with how we think and talk about child
abuse. Many people seem to think that child abuse ends when the abused
child becomes an adult. But if we talked to adult survivors of child
abuse, the abuse they survived in childhood was their parents’ way of
laying the groundwork so that they could continue tormenting and
manipulating their children for the rest of their lives.
I have searched in vain for a single
book or support group that acknowledges that child abuse often
continues or even gets worse after a child reaches adulthood. Child
abuse is always spoken about as a thing of the past. We either deride
adults for being unable to “overcome” it or we encourage them to deal
with their “wounded inner child.”
Do we think that a timer goes off and somehow disengages the abusive
nature of the abuser? Do we believe that once their victims have the
theoretical right to leave, abusers will actually let them go? Or do we
imagine that, at 18, a fairy visits abused children and bestows on them
the ability to stand up to their abusers?
Imagine applying that same logic to survivors of spousal abuse or rape.
I am sure that some abusers change, and become less abusive or even
nurturing to their adult children. But in my experience, that is the
exception, not the rule. What happens more often is that the abuser
adjusts the type of abuse to suit the new circumstances.
In writing this article, I asked people on social media to send me
their stories of ongoing parental abuse. I could not believe how many
people I heard from, and each story was more horrifying or sad than the
next.
I was surprised by how many people wrote to tell me about ways in
which their parents financially abused them. Without any hesitation or
feelings of regret, these parents took from their children as if it was
their right. And when they couldn’t guilt their children into handing
over money, many parents have stolen from their children’s bank
accounts, have taken out second mortgages on their children’s home, and
run up credit cards they took out in their children’s names. Every time
that these children crawl out from under the oppressive debt their
parents place them in, the parent starts burying their child all over
again.
If the stories of financial abuse shocked me, the stories of new or
continued sexual abuse left me bereft. Now I know that Mackenzie
Phillips is just one of many adult children who has had a parent
initiate or continue sexual abuse well into their adult years.
People sent me stories about parents who have beaten their adult
children so badly they had to be hospitalized. Others kept their abuse
more strategic, mostly to keep them from feeling strong and independent.
And then there are abusive parents who force their children to care
for them. They call their children at all hours of the day and night
threatening suicide. One man told me that his father repeatedly put
himself into financial jeopardy so that his son would have to let him
move in with them. Once ensconced in his son’s home he would claim the
role of patriarch and begin verbally and physically abusing everyone
right down to the family dog.
The fall-out from continued abuse in the lives of adult
survivors is colossal. And the shame of being abused by a parent when
you are an adult is overwhelming.
I am grateful to all of the people who are still enduring abuse who
have written to me. I wish I could tell you all of their stories.
What I can tell you is that there are many, many child abuse
survivors who are still dealing with daily ongoing abuse. Their
suffering is very real, and begs to be acknowledged.
Above all, adults who are still being subjected to child abuse need
to be able to tell their own stories. And they can only do that when we
acknowledge that it is not only possible for parents to continue abusing
their adult children, it is a likely outcome. Our default assumption
should be that abusive parents never stop abusing. They just change
their tactics.
