The First Hard Truth After Speaking/Reporting Abuser

I wish I could look into your unfocused, exhausted eyes and tell you everything will be okay. Everything will work in your favor and there will no longer any more pain to endure. That once you tell your truth to the world everything will fall into place and will be rainbows and butterflies.

But I want to share with you the hard truths of speaking up about your abuser to authorities, loved ones, or even strangers, not to stop you from speaking your truth, but to prepare you for the possible outcome. I was blind-sighted by the whole traumatic experience. I thought I knew what to expect. I was a teacher I’d dealt with quite a few sexual incidents. But until the unspeakable happens and you are thrown into the fucking tornado, no one knows what to expect. And no one has the right to judge you for how to handle the situation thrown at you. Just please ask for help if needed. You don’t have to fight this war alone.

What I felt and how I handled the situations thrown at me, I made quite a few mistakes, and I want others to learn from mine. And that is why I am sitting here this very minute typing the 5 hard truths after reporting your abuser.

I am not a therapist nor a Doctor. I am just a warrior wanting to speak out and help others realize they’re not alone. I hear you. I support you. And I am proud of you.

You’re so much more courageous than you feel. I promise you. I know reporting your abuser was/is absolutely terrifying. But now is not the time to crumble, it’s the moment you want to rise and fight like hell. And I am here to help you and to guide you through this journey.

The first hard truth after speaking/reporting my abuser is to trust absolutely no one, AT FIRST.

You may think you know how each person is going to react to your devastating news, but people will surprise you. And it’s those that you least expect.

My mother was my biggest heartache. I never thought in a million years my mother would choose a man over her daughter. I thought our bond was never to be broken.

Click 👇🏻 for the story about my mother

A Note to My Mother

After my mother shattered my soul into a billion pieces, others soon followed. My brother. My father’s family. And my mother’s family with a few “friends” in between.

I never felt more alone than when I reached out and told others. Now to be completely honest this was a huge mistake.

How I reached out and spoke my truth.

Not for one second do I regret telling the world my story. But I do regret some irrational decisions I made that hurt others that didn’t necessarily deserve it.

And to those that made mistakes along the way. Please don’t beat your soul. You deserve the world because you escaped.

For me, I just came to a point in my life where I could no longer hide behind the hushed lies anymore. I wanted everyone to know who my adoptive father truly was. A child molester who taunted his daughter for 25 years of her life.

Click 👇🏻 for my story.

My Story

I decided the only way to end the denial and suffering was to tell the universe my truth. I reached out to a girl I knew in high school. she blogged about life, and it just so happened that day, I noticed she wanted to tell a story about suffering.

Every bone in my body was shouting “Brit do this NOW.” At the time I was so desperate to be heard, it seemed like such a perfect idea.

And this is where life gets tricky.

My mother, of course, was not blind-sighted by my adoptive father doing horrible actions towards me. My mother knew and was quite aware of how I felt.

Click 👇🏻 to find out the day I told her about my adoptive father molesting me.

That Dreadful Day

I convinced myself, however, that my mother was too being abused by Tim, my adoptive father, and that she needed an escape to leave him for good. I told myself that my mother just needed an extra boost and others would help her face her denial.

This is the first reason I blasted my story on the internet for everyone to read.

All I wanted was my mother to leave the man, who she called my father, and live a life of happiness she so desperately deserved. Or again so I thought.

I put my mother’s feelings above my own. And I too was living in denial about what my mother was going to do.

How could a mother not choose their own daughter? My mother wasn’t going to be like the rest. She was involved in my life and my brothers. Never missed a birthday. Always had family vacations, that still are distant unwanted memories, and holidays were to die for in the Weaver household. Present overload.

But none of that meant that my brother and I were truly loved by our parents. It meant that Tim and Rhonda were definitely amazing at hiding their hushed, dark secrets. On the outside, we looked like the “perfect” family. But on the inside during Christmas, we were all in separate rooms and enjoying our new gadgets.

My blue-eyed, pale freckled face, little brother and I never got along. Ever. We were constantly fighting and neither of us could stand being next to each other.

We were always in competition with one another and not once do I ever think I looked at my baby brother and told him I loved him. Without being forced by our loving families.

Our relationship never had an opportunity to grow because my parents taught us to envy instead of love. So when I found out about Tim, our father, videotaping me naked, in my bedroom and outside of my bathroom window, my brother was the last person I thought of. But sadly he should have been the first person I protected.

But sadly even if I would have chosen to protect my brother, our relationship is completely nonexistent, and he would have ultimately broken my heart. And then I might not have had the outcome I love so very much now.

And that would have been absolutely devastating.

Hence why I said to you many paragraphs above to always put yourself FIRST. No matter what your circumstance may be. Forget what others are whispering in your ear, and figure out what YOU need. And trust me, sweetheart, your moment will come, when you are ready to accept it. Our subconscious has a funny way of reopening our minds. My hardships, numerous triggers, flashbacks, and confusing memories may surface, but the way I see it, at least I know the truth. The good and the ugly. Truth has an interesting way of healing the soul of you allow it.

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