It’s less than two weeks until my book launch for Confessions of a Trauma Therapist: A Memoir of Healing and Transformation.
Talk about telling the world! In it, I tell everything about how I recovered my lost childhood memories of incest.
Let me tell you, it’s much easier to tell the world than to tell one’s own family.
Of course, I had to alert my family to the fact that I was publishing a book about having been sexually abused by my father and his father, our dignified old grandfather.
I sent the letter to my sister, her children and their children, the youngest of whom is 19. In it, I tried to explain why I was revealing such unsavory family secrets.
I said, “I have written the book with the goal of encouraging other survivors of child sexual abuse. I want to help professionals and anyone else wanting to understand the victim’s struggles with trauma-based shame and betrayal.”
“This letter will stir some strong feelings in you. I want to hear from you when you’re ready.”
Why would I inflict such painful news on innocent family members? After all, they are not the perpetrators. The adults who betrayed me are long dead.
Here’s the reason: I believe the truth sets us free. For the rest of the world, I believe my story is a healing one, one I need to tell.