Pain is relative. And when you figure that out, you realize there will always be people with more reasons to hurt than you, and less than you. Accepting that your pain is real, and in the whole scheme of things there are many others worse off, can help you begin to heal from the abuse you suffered.
I learned that lesson at a sex abuse survivor’s group.
I’d been sexually abused as a child by two different boys. The first time happened once, when I was about 6 or 7 years old. He was a stranger, much older than me and it was at my favorite play area. The second abuse was done by a family member which involved sexual, physical and emotional trauma. I won’t name him here for several reasons. While some in my life feel he doesn’t deserve forgiveness, he admitted what he did and apologized many times. To move on and heal myself, I’ve accepted that apology. However, I do believe he still doesn’t realize the depth of the pain he caused though I’ve tried to explain it to him.
In the United Way sexual abuse group, a dozen or so of us circled our metal chairs and began the meeting. It was an ongoing thing, with women coming in and out throughout the life of the group. I entered the meeting as a college senior, 22 years old, hoping to figure out how to live the rest of my life with the fact that I was sexually abused and needed to talk about it. I needed answers why this happened and what could I do about it.
The other women were between 20 and 50. Without a moderator we just talked and tried to help each other.
Two women in that group left an indelible mark on me. The first, I’ll call her Jane, was meek, introverted and seemed like she was scared of kittens. She was a mess. The other was Josie. Josie seemed happy. She laughed and had good energy. I enjoyed her.
Their abuse histories could not have been more different and it taught me this perspective I’m talking about today. Now I want to say something here so you understand where I’m coming from. I am not judging these women’s abuse. I’m trying to put some things into perspective the way I saw them years ago.
Jane the meek was a mess. She had zero self-esteem and was terribly damaged by the abuse by her father. To look at her and hear about her struggles, you would have imagined terrible violence, awful sexual assault. But that’s not what Jane went through. The only thing Jane told us was that she was forced to undress in front her father at night for years. He didn’t touch her or masturbate or do anything overtly sexual. Yet Jane knew she was being abused in this way, being made an object for her father’s pleasure and it wrecked her. As an adult, Jane had a hard time with relationships, working and making friends.
Josie, the happy one, went through abuse I can’t even imagine. Josie’s father raped her as a teen for many years. Eventually she became pregnant with his child. Her father told her mother that Josie was a tramp and had gotten pregnant by a boyfriend. The mother believed him. Josie’s father positioned himself as the best father in the world when he announced he and his wife would adopt the child and keep it, rather than kicking his 15 year old daughter out. The baby was born with a birth defect that Josie suspected came from the incest. Complete deafness. Despite the horrible way the baby was conceived, she loved her son. The child was raised as her “brother” until she moved out. She found a job and a husband. She was doing everything she could to have the best life possible. When she told her story, I was dumbfounded. I couldn’t even imagine how she lived through it. She was so brave. A true survivor. I can still remember her hilarious sense of humor and was amazed at how she coped.
Looking at these two sweet women, you may have expected Josie to be the wreck and Jane to be OK, since the sexual abuse didn’t seem “as bad.” But that’s not how it went down here. And that revelation opened my eyes to pain and its relative nature.
I had a lot of pain from my years of abuse. I listened to all of the women’s stories and compared my abuse to theirs. What happened to me was worse than Jane, and not nearly as bad as Josie. I was in the middle, and realized that I had every right to feel the pain I was feeling. I was hurt. I didn’t have to discount my experiences or try to downplay them. They were what they were, and it was awful. It was OK to feel what I felt.
I won’t go into the details here. That’ll come later. For now, I just wanted to share the story. Pain is relative.
Another interesting story I read as a teenager that made me realize that pain is relative. The one about Miss Joni (pronounced Johnny) Eareckson. She has an amazing story. To summarize, she became a quadriplegic at age 17 and wrote a wonderful book about how she coped and survived. I remember one such story about the relative nature of pain that gave me great perspective and respect for those who are suffering.
Joni was in the hospital, in traction, with new growth coming in on her shaved scalp and had metal screws in her skull. She’d been recovering in the hospital for some time and everyone was getting used to her new condition. One of her friends, a middle-aged woman, came in and started talking about her own terrible day and complained that her husband had brought over dinner clients without telling her in advance. To make things worse, the woman said she’d just broken a finger nail and couldn’t get it fixed in time! Horror upon horrors.
Joni laid there, upset that this woman would not see how ridiculous her complaints were when Joni would never walk again. But Joni said she realized pain is relative. Breaking a nail and having to entertain dinner guests while unprepared was the worst thing that had happened to that woman. And Joni said she could take herself out of the equation and feel sorry for woman, because pain is relative and deserves recognition.
That profound lesson stuck with me. A 17-year-old quadriplegic could feel empathy for a woman who had everything. Such grace. It taught me you don’t have to have it worse than others to deserve to be taken care of, loved, or respected. Your pain, whatever it is, is valid. Showing empathy for those who are suffering, whether it’s a small thing like a broken nail, or a bigger challenge with a health issue, will allow you to put your life, your pain, into perspective. And knowing that you don’t have it the worst, or the least, can be encouraging and a source of inspiration to move past it.
BOTTOM LINE: Empathy. We must cultivate it, encourage it. Especially these days in our country.
Whether you are a victim or a perpetrator, I encourage you to talk to someone about it. Get help. In my case, opening that door was very painful. It opened wounds I didn’t realize I had and sent me into a deep depression while I dealt with it. But I had good people helping me and came out on the other side stronger for it. And opening that door led to over 30 years of self-discovery and a major change in the way I look at the world, at my life, and at other people.
Need help? Call the National Sexual Assault Telephone Hotline
Call 800.656.HOPE (4673) to be connected with a trained staff member from a sexual assault service provider in your area.
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