Supportive Circles

I Never Loved My Body. Here’s Why.

When I broach the topic of my own sexuality and where I am inside of it, I am sometimes told that my state of mind and feelings regarding my sexuality are just skewed by my child sexual abuse. I don’t completely disagree with that perspective. It’s not a new concept. It’s a scientific fact that child rape shatters a human both mentally and physically.

I do however, disagree that’s its skewed. I wouldn’t use that specific word.  My whole view of sexuality was formed from being raped as a child.  To define my perspective as skewed is implying that I once had a choice to know what sexuality even was.  Just as I have had to travel a path of re-programming my DNA back to its authentic thought perspective form, to expel physical and mental childhood trauma, so I’ve also had to do work specifically with my sexuality.

 “You see, I’ve never loved my body, but not because my body isn’t lovable. It’s that the natural urge to love myself in any way was taken from me by abusive adults.”

Vennie Kocsis

You see, I’ve never loved my body, but not because my body isn’t lovable.  It’s that the natural urge to love myself in any way was taken from me by abusive adults.  When I say, “never loved my body”, I don’t mean standing naked in front of a mirror and being happy with what I see. I didn’t love my body by not caring how it was used. I didn’t know what boundaries were. I didn’t know that I had an option of saying no. By the time I was old enough to learn I could say no, I was formed into a fearfully compliant and sexual system. I often moved into a space of sexual robotics, dissociated away from the act itself, even convincing myself that I loved individuals I did not love, so the programmed guilt of my sexuality would not plague me.

Growing up in a religious cult, I was taught that my body was a temple. Masturbation was a sin. Females who had sex before marriage were vile, dirty whores. Girls who were caught being seductively raped by much older men were blamed for their own fear and compliance. We were taught that our bodies belonged to the Christian God until a husband was chosen for us.

We were taught purity in conjunction with being raped by pedophiles, who came in droves to backwoods communes full of children; pedophiles who sought healing from the religious ministry, a ministry more intent on their doctrine and accepting the pedophiles into the fold to cast out the “pedophile demon”, than on the safety of us children.

If you think all rape is violent you are wrong. There are many ways a predator takes what they want from children and/or adults. Sometimes it’s soft coercion through gifts and items given, so the predator can later say, “Now you owe me.” Sometimes it’s offering sweets, toys or gadgets to little children. Sometimes it’s seducing a teenager or adult who blindly believes and hopes for love. Sometimes there is the use of drugs and/or alcohol. Sometimes it is taken by force as the victim fights to no avail. The list of ways rape is enacted is long and varying.

The media tends to highlight violent rape when soft coercive rape is possibly more often used. It can leave even the victim blaming themselves. It can coerce the victim into believing they participated and even enjoyed it. It shatters the mind into countless pieces.

Whether through physical violence or mental coercion, when the intent of the rapist is to TAKE for them-self, it is, indeed, rape. It is not a fully consensual act.  Children cannot consent to and should not be consenting to sexual acts.  It is a violation for which there is no coming back.  There is no argument for this.  The fact that child rape damages a human so deeply, is proof enough of its dissecting aftermath.   When fear or falseness is involved in the taking of anything from another human without their awareness, it is an absolute act of taking. It leaves scars. It leaves a broken body and mind as the predator walks away full and fed.

Shattered throughout my whole-body system, physically and neurologically, I ran through life in many modes. At times I was in fight or flight for days. Other times I was dissociated. I had other states of being come into my forefront as the authentic me wandered and self-moved like a robot behind them. I had no way to gauge what was healthy for me.

I would search many facets of sexuality, from bisexuality to the lifestyle of fetishes and BDSM; to poly-amorous attempts and more. Being a sexual abuse survivor, I had no self-awareness to connect my spirit with my sexuality.  I had yet to call my soul back into my body.  Instead, sex became a way to both numb and sometimes expel rage and pain.

I had been trained to never say no. I had been trained that saying no would leave me punished and/or shunned.  Saying no meant I wasn’t a good person.  Saying no meant I was selfish. I had been trained for compliance since the age of three. It was all that my mind and my body ever knew.

Many victims of sexual abuse take a journey through exploring extreme sexuality. I do not blame them or judge them for this journey. There is both a disconnect and a confusion in the mind towards our sexuality when we have been raped starting at a very young age. We sometimes become dominant to control being hurt. Yet, in the quiet of our mind, the pain still exists. We sometimes become compliantly submissive, believing if we give our bodies fully, that we will be loved, often ending up further abused.

I am not ashamed of my sexual past.  You should not be either.  Let no one shame you, and please do not shame yourself.  All my experiences, especially the ones which left me hurt and damaged, with more scars, remnants of my pain left in the hands of men who only cared about their own wants and having visuals to hold for their own pleasure, have formed me into who I am today. This does not erase their accountability for their predatory behavior. Acceptance is merely my path to freeing myself from the hold these sexual patterns have had on me.

I believe deeply in my own sacred sexuality. I now know that my vagina belongs to MY body. I am not a fan anymore of the ideal that sacred sexuality means giving my body away. This does not at all feel in alignment with my spirit or what makes me feel comfortable inside.

I have misgivings about the industry of sacred sexuality. It is a new-age trend rife with predators, many seemingly moving through one partner after another, and charging money to other humans to “free them from their sexual traumas and blocks”. One can only wonder the effect this has on individuals emotionally, especially when they have been severely sexually abused. I see the trends of sexual gurus, and their followers crawling behind them, believing that “free sex” means “healed wounds”.  I’ve see the aftermath from those who have awakened to understand they were being preyed upon by ill-intended individuals.

I am becoming very comfortable in owning this personal space. As the numbers of my age rise, the more I am deeply connected to the ethereal strand holding my body together. I have come to many realizations over the years. I have given my body to other humans for the wrong reasons, most of which did not align with my greater good.

Sexual healing, for me, has been learning to say no without fear of rejection and loss.

Healing from my sexual abuse has meant being willing to walk away from anyone who can’t respect the space I am choosing to be centered into, who would still coerce me or place me in a compliant or humiliating position, even after me having said it wasn’t where I wanted to be.  Healing has meant walking away from those who may have a hold on this part of me. Healing is putting my body first in health and energetic care.  Healing has involved learning to be alone with myself without feeling lonely and loving my body with a healthy perspective.

I dare say be mindful of your intuition, fluttering there below your rib cage. If you feel as I feel, in a space of exclusivity, with no urge to give yourself to others out of a “free sexuality” trend following or patterns of past abuse, don’t let anyone persuade you away from yourself.  Do not judge, but more so, do not let yourself be judged for not following along with any patterns of group think.  You have the right to be an individual with your own choices.

This poem grew out of this journey, as my childhood sexual abuse has been the deepest wound I’ve had to clean.  It is the wound which has held the densest toxins and had the strongest hold on me.

Somewhere

There are kisses invisible

Sent by men who

Stare at ceilings

Dripping with strands

Of hair.

I don’t dare travel there.

Imagine surprises;

Beach town getaways,

Watching watery sunrises.

But aloneness

Doesn’t call

For such privileges.

Floating to other circles,

Hoping for different hues;

Something new,

Unfamiliar.

Some call it

‘Being loved unconditional.’

I don’t know what

That feels like.

I know abuse and use,

Sex feigned as passion.

Forever exists;

Waiting somewhere.

by Vennie Kocsis, 2015

As I am rising higher inside of my own power, I am wielding an invisible sword called boundaries.  I reserve and demand the right to say no. I do not consent to being love bombed and flattered into giving myself away. I hold onto my power, as it is my sovereign right to be in full control of my human body. My mind can no longer be persuaded to go against the greater good of my own thoughts and desires.

As it is, so shall it be.  img_3657Vennie Kocsis is the best-selling author of CULT CHILD, and hostess of Survivor Voices radio show every Sunday at Freedom Slips.

VennieKocsis.com

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“Ownership” Featured Blog Post

**TRIGGER WARNING**

One of the ideas that I have struggled with the most this past year is that I was a slave. I was owned. Words that are hard enough to type and still stumble and bumble off of my tongue. My heart clenches, my hands shake, and my mind screams NOOOOOOOO every time I delve into this subject in therapy or on my own. I still ask how? why? Questions for which I will never really have answers.

Read More at Sunset – Fire, Ashes, Rebirth

Why You Need To Make This Small Investment In Your Life

I’ve been through some of the worse a child can endure; torture, sexual abuse, child labor and more. Cult life was excruciating, daunting and extremely emotionally isolated.

My healing journal has been difficult as well. Being diagnosed with mental impairments thrust me into shame and despair for a long time.

So, how did I get through? Fifteen years of hard work and a big mirror reflecting back at me.

This brought me to a place of wanting to share my journey with others. One of the excruciating parts of talking to survivors, is how many are alone, can’t afford therapy and are just struggling to be heard.

So, I started a channel where I can listen and share. Through videos and posts, you, the subscriber, can come to understand more about mental health struggles. I am currently doing a video series on Dissociative Identity Disorder.

I am in love with this channel. Subscribers are private unless you choose to comment or openly participate. I can garauntee a constant stream of information and so, so much more.

Click to join:  My Private Channel

Art Therapy for Trauma Survivers

Sometimes it helps me to dump my head through visuals.   I believe deeply in art and photography therapy for trauma survivors.   Many of you say “but I’m not a good artist!”  See, it’s not about being “good” in someone’s eyes, even your own.  It’s about figuring out your method to expel pent up energy.

Slashes of red and orange paint swiped across a canvas can be an abstract release of anger.  Photos of flowers you love can lift your spirits.  There is no method set except the one you choose.

Here are a few examples of art pieces and photos of things that called my to me.  If you’d like to see more, you can visit my art store at:

Vennie-Kocsis.pixels.com

Photography

Digital Art

Canvas art / mixed media

Now go! Create! Gather leaves and stones and paint.  Let your body naturally lead you into the outlet ever human is gifted with.  💫💫

Abused Children Wear Multiple Faces

What the un-abused cannot understand is how a child can be raped and defiled, then smile at school the next day.

What I can say as a sex and physical child abuse survivor is that a lot of us victims don’t fully understand it either, except to explain that this is where fragmentation of the mind happens.

We function in multiple settings, some violent and horrific, some considered normal, and we move between these fragments in order to survive. As a species, we don’t fully understand the absolute capacity we have to get through horrible events and experiences. So, in order to thrive, there must be in all of us, an acceptance, instead of a need for explanations or closure that we may never recive.

Why do evil humans do what they do?

Who cares.

Let’s stop them.

We spend more time researching, than we do focusing in on victim rehabilitation and harsh sentencing for perpetrators.

We spend more time debating theologies on news panels for television time, than we do walking into the lives of the victims so we can truly understand what they have experienced.

If you want a solution to an epidemic like child abuse, ask some of us victims. You will find that maybe you should listen to us, whether you agree with our view or not. If you have not been a victim you really aren’t the expert. The victim is. To put yourself in your own absolute bubble makes you a part of the problem.

Start to listen, as we are speaking very loudly, and our Survivor Voices are rapidly growing.

Cult Child at Amazon:

When Childhood Gaps Haunt You

I wish I had one less tear for every time I heard the advice to stay more focused on the future than I do the past. Or one less ache for the unsolicited opinion that letting go is always best.

I have spent many years contemplating this.

I revert to the line in a journal that was gifted to me. It says, “Remember to get through it. Don’t stay in it.”

I’ve met many abuse survivors who have all of their memories. I have felt a mixed twinge of jealousy that they remember everything and sadness that they recall all of the hurt. Still, there are some of us survivors with time gaps.

For me, those gaps are not completely blank. They hold flash and impression memories. Flash memories are 3-10 second images which sometimes have no specific beginning, sometimes no end or sometimes both. Impression memories are feelings and thoughts for which there are no accompanying images. Both of these types of memories are cloaked with a big question mark.

There is no closure for them. To forget and let them go is as impossible as the inevitable fact that if one tries to stay awake for as long as possible, eventually, they will fall asleep. The memory will go nowhere whether we will it to or not.

Therefore, instead, to dive into the dark and dismal pits is sometimes the definitive path to wholeness. To finally reach the destination may include feeling our way through some very dark hallways and caves.

The key to this expedition is behavioral awareness. There will be tears and weariness. There will be moments of wanting to give up. There will be times anger will emerge. Being aware of whether or not this is affecting our behavior is important, as it affects those connected to us, our health and well being.

Balance is the ying to the yang. It must be set in place by way of grounding into the present. Dissociation begins with physical symptoms such as a heavy chest, difficulty breathing, rapid heartbeat, nausea, tunnel vision and more.

To dive into the abyss requires a safety belt and a wire. It is not impossible. The more we care for and accept signals from our physical form, the more the gateways of the mind become open.

To enter the haunted house, one must remember the number one rule.

It is not real. Right now, in the present, it is not real. It is a memory. We get to control our response to it. We get to be patient as we learn how to enact that control.

And once our bodies have become accustomed to the trapeze, to know there will always be a net, we can be free to swing between the poles of our soul gaps.

And all that is darkness will be exposed by the light. As horrible as it will be, don’t turn your eyes. Let the images and accounts embed themselves so deep, that you never lose your empathy.

Are You Afraid To Write Your Trauma?

We are often encouraged to write out our trauma memories. As an author, I am definitely a supporter of this process and understand what it can do for the mind, body and spirit.

Often I have spoken with trauma survivors who don’t have any kind of outlet for the pain they are holding in. So it sits in their skin like weights. It becomes despair, sinking them deeper into hopelessness and the unknown.

When I ask them if they’ve ever tried writing out these moments, there is one phrase I hear the most.

“I’m not a very good writer.”

This is what has inspired me to share some things with you about the writing process.

Writing out your trauma has nothing to do with whether you deem yourself a prolific writer or not. Writing out your trauma is simply about getting it out.

In her book, “PTSD: Time To Heal“, Cathy O’Brien stresses the importance of writing by hand. I completely agree and have at least 5-6 journals going at once. For me, the reason I hand write certain things is because it makes my brain slow down. It lets me really pause to do sensory recall. I sometimes will have a crude, coinciding sketch emerge.

I also can tell who inside of me is scribing based on my handwriting. One of us writes in all caps. Another tends to use cursive. Another is messy and lazy with writing, and her wrist will start burning and become tired quickly. A couple speak telepathically and I am their scribe.

My writing out a memory may, in the beginning, look like this:

Potato dugout
So dark in here
Smells like mold
Do demons really lurk in shadows?
Don’t want to go back there in the back part.
What if a demon gets inside of me?
Where is the boy who usually is here to help?
I hope it’s not a mean boy.

I don’t always use full sentences. I get in a first person voice so I can re-visit it in the present. I will use fragments of sentences, literally writing whatever comes to my mind. Sometimes more information about that memory will come later, and I will go back to write more on that particular page.

The point, you see, is not to feel the pressure of writing well, or to put out a novel or even a blog, unless you want to. It has nothing to do with writing skills and everything to do with Purging and Visualizing.

Have you ever had a difficult time grasping a concept until you saw it outlined for you? Our memories can work the same way. Writing out even one or two word phrases can open up our minds, expansively allowing more to emerge.

So when you are writing out your trauma, remember it’s not about the manner of your writing. It’s about the ink letting of your pain.

Remember to get through it, and not stay in it.  Soothe.  Take a break when you want.  Have cool water and whatever comforts you nearby, and Remember to Breathe.  ❤

Vennie Kocsis