I’ll never forget the first time that I told a man that I’d been sexually abused. His response was far from what I’d expected. He became extremely uncomfortable and then asked me: What exactly did he do to you?
I have no idea what he hoped to achieve with that question, but I can tell you that I felt horrified to be asked.
It’s been equally painful, at times, trying to explain sexual abuse to compassionate male partners, who tried to be sensitive, but seemed confused as to how to respond. The worst moment was one in which my lover said nothing, leaving me to feel painfully exposed.
Don’t get me wrong there have been deeply loving men in my life who voiced their horror at my abuse and thought my perpetrator should have his testicles removed, but I didn’t get the sense they could empathize with the pain of how deeply it had affected my life.
If you tell a man that you had the life nearly choked out of you, or you were stabbed repeatedly with a switchblade, he’d not only feel it, he’d groan at the pain of it. His face would contort to think about how that must have felt. But talk about being sexually assaulted, and you can get a face that’s really hard to read.
The most important thing is, don’t shy away from her pain. You didn’t do it to her; it’s not your fault.
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I recently had a coaching client ask me if his wife’s long-ago sexual abuse was a valid reason for denying him sex. He’s not the first to ask such a thing. Why would a man ask this? Well, because, as they have admitted, they couldn’t imagine a sexual wound persisting for so many years, much less a lifetime.
Of course, men who have been sexually abused never question the gravity of sexual abuse, nor would never think to ask a woman: What exactly did he do to you?
I have a theory that some men (when hearing of a woman’s sexual abuse) feel shame for their entire sex. They may also feel shame that at some point they fantasized about raping a woman (operative word here is “fantasized.”) When a man feels shame, of any kind, it makes sense that he’d become paralyzed about what to say and how to feel.
What I’ve hoped for, and imagine a lot of women do, is empathy for the pain and what I’ve done to transform my pain. I never wanted pity.
Of course, it’s hard to get this kind of compassion if the man hearing you can’t imagine the horror of sexual abuse and what you went through to heal it.
So, how can a man respond to something so awful that he has personally not experienced – in a way that is sensitive to a woman’s feelings and her healing process?
The most important thing is, don’t shy away from her pain. You didn’t do it to her; it’s not your fault. Don’t take her abuse on as your problem to fix. Instead, see her as bigger than what happened to her. She doesn’t want to be identified with the wound. She wants to transcend it. If you can trust her a powerful source for her own healing and know she’s not “broken,” it will empower her and she’ll feel heard and seen.
If a man could say the perfect thing to a woman who was sexually abused, I think it would be: “I’m so sorry that happened to you and I’m amazed by who you are today despite it. “
Instead of asking why it happened or what was done to her, just feel the sorrow for her loss, and celebrate how she’s found herself, if she has. Find that respect and quiet awe you might feel for someone who’s survived any kind of great loss.
Photo: Getty Images
This is an important topic, but to be honest – when I saw the link to it, I expected to see an article on “How a nab can respond when he’s been sexually abused sexually by his partner.” The jolt I got was understandable, but there does remain the topic of how, as a man (who throughout his life, with regards to relationships, been taught that if anything, he is always the abuser – never the other way around) can both acknowledge (become aware of) and appropriately respond / deal with abuse. The working model I have of abuse in… Read more »
don’t see a way to edit here: nab => man