It's no secret that abuse is dark. If you speak to anyone who has been abused or walked with someone who was even without experiencing it personally, you will hear the imagery of darkness and light a lot. From the moment abuse starts, a darkness unlike any other sets in, but when the abuse stops, the darkness does not lift. It sticks around. It suffocates. It traps. It also somehow feels safe. It protects. It comforts in the most uncomfortable of ways. As the years add up and the darkness only grows, it somehow becomes familiar. The darkness hides secrets. It hides hurts. It hides pain.
Those secrets, hurts and pains are ones that I want to wish away. I don't want to know they are there. I don't want to feel them or acknowledge them, and the darkness is just enough of a band aid to dull the secrets, hurts and pain ever so slightly to allow me to function and live. The darkness is an invisible cloak that offers me a feeling of safety and a hiding place, but the very darkness that feels like it is protecting me from my own pain and secrets suffocates and overwhelms me. Over time, the darkness I have fought so hard to hide behind started to warp into a burden I can't stand up under. My darkness is both my place of safety and of suffering.
When I began to walk this path towards healing, I unknowingly started walking out of the darkness I hate yet cherish. God is light, and He shines His light into the darkness, exposing it for what it is. His light shatters the darkness of lies and the light of truth takes its place. Light is, of course, better than darkness. Truth is, most certainly, better than lies. However, the light can bring with it excruciating pain.
To explain this better, allow me to make a comparison. Think of a time when you were in a dark place. Maybe you were in the shade of a large tree, or inside a house with all the lights turned off and windows covered. Have you ever left this dark, shaded place and stepped into the brightness of the sun? When you do, you turn your eyes away. The brightness of the sun's light hurts your eyes and sometimes even your entire head. You must give your eyes time to adjust before you can lift your head and see the world around you, including the gorgeous day illuminated by the once excruciating sunlight. You may have only come out from under a shady tree, but the stark contrast of the sunlight is still enough to be blinding and quite painful until your eyes adjust, and you can finally enjoy the beautiful day you find yourself in. This is very much what it is like each time God shines a new ray of light into the darkness that has allowed me to feel safe and protected for so many years.
Even though I have begun to walk away from the depths of darkness and towards light, the darkness still feels safe, like a shield protecting me from myself and others. God has been gracious to shine His light little by little as I move forward. With each new ray of light, I find myself begging for the darkness once more to feel relief from the pain brought about by the light. The pain is intense and deep and inescapable despite all my efforts to get away. Though the light is the way forward, the way towards healing, it is terrifying and hurts more than I can put words to. I have to adjust to the truth God is teaching me as I learn to let go of the lie the truth is replacing. The adjustment is hard. It's uncomfortable. It's scary. It's necessary though.
Recently, God shone a single ray of light into my darkness to replace a lie with His truth. The lie He was overturning was the lie that I am at fault for what happened, that I caused the abuse I went through. It is a lie that was fed by people who were supposed to help when I first told what happened. I have held on to this lie for well over a decade. God used many different things converging all at once to shine His light and allow me to see what others had been telling me for the last year. It wasn't my fault. I did not cause myself to be abused. It was my coach's fault. It was his sin. I did not do anything to invite it. I am not responsible for his actions. All these years later, the light allowed me to see that it really wasn't my fault.
It would seem that this would be a good realization to come to. In my head, I know it is good to know that. The pain from that little bit of light breaking into my darkness crippled me. I found myself barely able to function at times. I could hardly breathe, and keeping my head above the proverbial waters seemed impossible. I wanted to go back to believing the lie to be fully true. I wanted it to be my fault. I knew how to live with that heavy burden. I knew how to feel safe in that darkness. Dark and light can't coexist though, and you cannot unsee something. I already knew. The light had already shown me the truth. I had to adjust.
It's been a slow process. I am to the point where I can acknowledge that the abuse was not my fault. I still struggle to accept it though. My head is above the water again and breathing is easier than it was when the light first pierced through and temporarily blinded me. I still find myself longing for the darkness though at times, wanting the safety I felt even though I know it wasn't really as safe as it seemed. I'm still adjusting, but the light isn't crippling anymore. It is still quite harsh, but it is softer than it was at first.
I know more light is up ahead somewhere. I don't know where yet, or what lie it will attack. I often times don't know what lies I believe and hold fast to until the light rips through the dark. With each bit of light, more pain will come...more hurt will have to be faced. Each time, I will have to allow time to adjust my vision as God works in my heart one moment at a time. As I adjust, the light will no longer seem so harsh. I haven't experienced the beautiful day illuminated by the light yet, but I have to believe one day I will as the light softens and darkness isn't so terrifyingly comfortable. Without that hope, I cannot face the light coming my way. Thankfully, God is a God of hope, and He has promised that His light will shine in the darkness to bring joy and peace and hope realized.
I say all this for a reason. I have a small group of people walking this journey with me. They each walk with me in different ways, but I need each one of them. All of them can see the lies I believe. All of them have a clarity that I don't. They spent a year telling me the abuse was not my fault and watching me fight against that with every ounce of strength I could muster. Then at long last they watched me understand the truth they had seen so clearly and fall to the blinding light. Something good left me reeling in agony and unable to move forward. Truth that they each saw as good for me to get and understand left me crippled. I imagine that has been very difficult for them to see. I know they each care for me deeply. I would guess that watching me "get" a truth they have wanted me to get for so long and falling down under the weight of it was painful for them too. I could see how they may not understand such a reaction or know how to walk with me through that.
I want to explain why the truth is so hard, why light in the darkness is so painful. I want to say that if you are walking with someone who has been abused, the light can be crippling. When the light hurts, please don't walk away. I know it seems like the truth and the light are good. They are. They hurt at first though. Be patient. Keep speaking encouragement to the one you care for while they adjust to a new truth and ray of light that shatters a darkness that felt like the only safety in the world. I'm sure it is hard to see. I'm sure it hurts you to see someone you care for hurting more. Hold their hand while the light blinds them. Their eyes will adjust, but it will take time. In that time, your patience means everything. When you stay by their side, even when they aren't moving forward and are stuck, you say more than your words ever could and give them just a little more strength to take one more step. Even when you don't understand it, just stay with them. Even when the light hurts, wait with them while the harshness of new light subsides. It is a very scary place to step out of darkness. When you stay with them while the light hurts, you are offering comfort beyond what you can know.
If you are like me and are walking this road to healing, from dark to light, know that it's normal for the light to hurt. It's okay to be scared as the light pierces your safety net of darkness. You are not alone. The hurt and harshness of the light that strike in you fear and panic will subside. The light will soften and opening your eyes won't be so hard. Each ray of light your eyes adjust to is one step closer to a beautiful day of healing that is coming. I know it hurts to step out of the darkness. I feel your pain. Light hurts, and adjusting takes time I don't want to wait for. I'm waiting with you though. It will hurt, but it will not last forever. The hurt will be replaced with joy when we are fully in the light with our vision adjusted. The light will be softened, and we will see the glorious day illuminated by the very light that cripples us now. Keep pressing on my dear sister. The truth and light may be hard and may hurt, but it will bring about a freedom we don't yet comprehend. We may only see ashes right now, but in the light, those ashes will be beautiful.
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