How to tell a child that the next adult won't hurt them again

As a child we learn what we can expect from our environment, and how to adapt to best survive in it. Or even build up a life that fits our expectations. Most children learn that communication and honesty are important skills to get ahead in life.

Some children learn that there are monsters lurking among adults.


I know that every adult is a potential monster. Because I have been there already. I have seen the monsters in human disguise.

I can still feel their hands groping me. I can still feel the terror. The helpless anger as they savaged me.


I never got away. I never truly escaped. Because I know that there are monsters out there. And any adult can be one of them.

I do not know which one it will be. The next one to attack me. So I have to be wary of all of them. What's more important than to defend yourself against monsters, after all?


I wish I could forget the groping hands. The hands painfully grabbing me and treating me like a piece of meat. I'm glad that so far I cannot recall everything that happened, though I'm well aware that the memories are slowly coming back. I can feel them crawling back inside of me, like slimy, rotting pieces of a nightmare that should have stayed forgotten.


How do I tell the child in me that then isn't now?

How can I possibly tell the child such a thing, when I know that it is a lie? For I have seen the monsters. I know that they are real.


How can I ever accept a person's touch on my body again without my mind reeling in disgust and withdrawing itself, just like my mind did back then?

How can I know when it's really a person, and when it is a monster?


Even as I become more and more aware of this deadening of my emotions and this seemingly infinite divide between myself and something as seemingly uncomplicated as physical contact, I do not see how I can deal with it. Maybe I'll never be able to.

Why would I want to be able to accept any attempt at physical contact from another person again?

To be able to hug another person and not feel like one's body is just a piece of dead flesh. To perhaps feel more human.


It's so isolating to always feel this wary of everyone. Every adult. Every potentially dangerous situation. To even imagine getting kicked and beaten up while lying in bed. To have one's mind work through some flashbacks for the heck of it.

I'm pretty sure that this isn't something which one 'fixes' by simply 'getting over it'. Those feelings of horror and disgust aren't getting any less.


If this was a fairy tale, I'm sure that there would be an easy fix like 'true love' or something equally cheesy, but this is real life. With real monsters. And pointless deaths and suffering.

Real life is rather short on happy endings, sadly. Real life prefers to teach you to accept that you cannot change some things.


I do wonder how this story continues. Every child deserves it to grow up happy, after all.


Maya