Monday, December 6, 2010


Masks. We’ve all worn them at times. We’ve all pretended at times to be some one we really aren’t. Masks can be a lot of fun. You can become anyone you want to be. When you put on a mask you can fool the world. Nobody can see behind it and see who you truly are unless you chose to take it off. The thing about masks is, after awhile it gets old and you do take them off.

I’ve worn masks throughout my life, a mask of shame because of sexual abuse. I tried in so many ways to hide the hurt because I allowed it to happen to me. I used to feel so ashamed and that somehow it was really all my fault. I tried my best to cover myself so no one could see that deep down inside I was really just a very hurt little kid. I did this well into adult hood. It doesn’t matter how old you are if you suffered sexual abuse in your life. It can and does still hurt. I was talking recently with an 89 year old lady that shared how as a little girl she too had been abused. She was so angry about it and for the life of her had trouble understanding why I would speak out about my own abuse.

I have many reasons for sharing my story. The first is that I was tired of pretending and wearing a mask. I tried many ways and many masks covering the pain in my life. I needed change. I wanted to find me. I wanted to find who that little boy was supposed to be. I didn’t like who he had become. He was destroying who that little boy should have become had it not been for the abuse.

Today I can stand. I can and do stand proud of who I am. I have come to realize that I am special and God has a plan and purpose in my life. I believe that all victims of sexual abuse or rape are some of the most special people on earth. It has taken me many years to come to that point of realization and it is only because of the special people here at SNV. So I invite you to be part of something special here. You don’t even have to be a victim of sexual abuse. I'm sure you know many survivors. You just don’t recognize them. They have a mask on…

Article by Jack Stoskopf

No comments:

Post a Comment