Showing posts with label sex abuse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sex abuse. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 6, 2017

Autism Answer: Alibi (Video/Song)

I wrote another song. Weird, right? I mean, I'm not a songwriter. But I am a writer so I suppose songs happening isn't that unbelievable. :D

This one was inspired by the #MeToo movement. Quite different from my last song (Sexy Daydreams, My Life Is Awesome) which was inspired by me loving and celebrating every little thing about my life. Yet also quite the same since it was inspired by my life.

Anyway, here is a video of me singing it. 




And here are the lyrics:

Alibi 
written by Tsara Shelton

I was sleeping
when he came in
he was touching
I was frightened

Why do I cry
when it's not my
crime, I am my own
alibi

I was drinking
he was driving
lying, trying 
to keep me quiet

Why do I cry
when it's not my
crime, I am my own
alibi

He was kindly
saying "no, please"
I was pushing
hardly listening

Why do I cry
when it is my
crime, I am my own
alibi

They were growing
I am teaching
wanting, needing
to do this right

Why do I cry
when it is my
crime, I am my own 
alibi

Why do I cry
while I do try
to stop this crime
I'm my alibi

My own
alibi

# # #

Hugs, smiles, and love!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Sunday, October 15, 2017

Autism Answer: No Means No - And Even More, You Need Permission

Me, thinking.

"What did I do? How did I screw up again? What is it about me? Why am I so weak and pathetic?"

Those are the things I wondered every time I was sexually harassed, molested, or raped.

"Well, it was only boob touching, it was only rubbing my bum, it was only uncomfortable sex, it wasn't me screaming and fighting and getting punched and stuff."

Those are the things I said when loved ones encouraged me to tell, to bring the incidents to the attention of authorities.

"No means no. Even if you think it's a game, even if nobody is screaming, no means no. Every time. Not only that, you need to get permission. You need to be told yes. Every time."

That was the thing a judge said when I did go to court, when I did listen to my sister and my mom and go to authorities.

It was a huge, huge, huge important thing. Because, you see, I hadn't known. My rapist hadn't known. We were equally surprised to learn it. I had felt certain that my promises of sexual interest the weeks before gave me next to no rights that day he showed up with a friend. I believed my tears and quiet pleas of, "no, I changed my mind," were, as my rapist said, unfair and invalid.

I had heard, of course, that no means no. I had heard it before that day. But I hadn't believed it. I hadn't seen it proved true in the the world. So, I hadn't really believed it. Not until that judge said it with such clarity from his important place in that room. 

I listen, we all listen, to authority and power in a different way than we listen outside of it.

When authority and power takes advantage, sexually and otherwise, we hear it different. We believe it different.We expect different things from ourselves and the people around us.

By that same token, though, when authority and power chooses to teach, example, and insist on equality, on kindness, on speaking up, we hear it different. We believe it different. We expect different things from ourselves and the people around us. 

I would like to say that when I left that court room I never blamed myself again. I'd like even more to say that I never had reason to wonder who's fault harassment and sexual abuse were. I can't say that. 

It still happened. In this world, where the culture is one that breeds a belief in "boys will be boys" and "what a cock tease" and "way to go man, high five" and "well, you shouldn't have been alone with him" it's more likely to happen than not, I fear. 

I can tell you, however, that I knew now that no means no. I knew that people had no right to touch my boobs or my bum without me telling them yes. And I knew I had no right to do such things to others without their permission. 

I can tell you that I started expecting different things from the world, and I started walking away and telling authorities when things were inappropriate. I had learned that sometimes people just don't know that what they are doing is wrong, and when they do know I have a right and responsibility to speak up so it might not happen to others.

"What did I do? How did I screw up again? What is it about me? Why am I so weak and pathetic?" This is one reason people don't tell when they are abused or harassed.But there are many others. Losing our jobs, thinking it's normal, knowing that other stronger women have been through more and handled it, these are a few other reasons. And there are more. 

Some people don't tell because they don't have the ability to. In the world of disability sexual abuse and harassment is a big problem. Also, pedophilia is a big problem. Disabled people and children are already too often taught by society that they ought to shut up and do what they are told. Often they are treated as less than or as lucky to be taken care of in the first place. Often, they just don't have the ability to speak at all because of their disability or young, young, young age. 

I wish I could gather everyone into that courtroom with me, everyone in the world, and we could listen together in the same way I listened that day. I wish everyone could hear, the way I heard - with conviction and belief and life changing tectonic plate shifting clarity - what I heard that judge say. 
  
"No means no. Even if you think it's a game, even if nobody is screaming, no means no. Every time. Not only that, you need to get permission. You need to be told yes. Every time."


If you ever catch yourself, as the done-to or the doer, justifying by thinking these sorts of things: 

"Well, it was only boob touching, it was only bum rubbing, it wasn't screaming and fighting and getting punched and stuff."

And there was not permission given, no clear "yes" offered, then something went wrong. (And where disabled people are concerned "yes" can be not enough, depending on the disability, and where children are concerned, just NO.)

Don't hate yourself. But take steps to change it. Reach out and apologize or admit your cruelty if you were the doer, talk to the safest person for you, in your situation, if you are the done-to. 

Sex and sexuality are interesting and exciting and filled with valuable fun, love, learning, and exploration. I encourage you to do the work of making sure it is done carefully and mindfully. 

We have to change the culture around this issue. We have to be not afraid to ask for sex while we aren't afraid to say no. We have to teach each other that it is never ever okay to push or force or sneak in unwelcome touches. 

No means no. And even more, you need permission. 

It's simple, really. 
Let's make sure everyone gets the memo. 
Let's change the culture.  

We've got to.

Hugs, smiles, and love!!
__________________________________________________________
For more on this topic I suggest this article by my mom, Lynette Louise ("The Brain Broad"): When I Was Easy To Rape It Was Still Rape

As well as my mom's survivor spotlight on RAINN (Rape Abuse Incest National Network): 

Survivor Spotlight Domestic Violence Awareness Month 

Also consider checking out this documentary that my mom was a part of: HUSH: Hollywood's Uncovered Sexual Harassment 

Or even purchase a copy of my book, Spinning in Circles and Learning from Myself: A Collection of Stories that Slowly Grow Up where I talk candidly about being molested by my step-father and mention being groped by a fellow co-worker as well as threatened by a creepy phone repair man. I also tell the story of me raping a boyfriend. As is my habit I tell these stories with an eye on answers and hope. It is my intention to always tell the difficult stories, to not hide from them, while seeking helpful nuggets of wisdom and suggestions for change. My success rate is yet to be determined. Actually, scratch that. I am successful because my home and my life and my mind are healthy, happy, and safe. :D
 

Saturday, March 26, 2016

Autism Answer: It Takes A Village To Abuse A Child

My mom with my sister and me.

"If it takes a village to raise a child, believe me, it takes a village to abuse one." ~A Brilliant Line from the movie Spotlight

My mom was an abused child. Emotionally, physically, and sexually abused. 

I had abuse happen to me. Emotional and sexual. But I was not an abused child. 

The difference was made so clear in that line from the movie. My mom grew up surrounded by abusive grown ups and grown ups who looked the other way, manipulating what they were seeing in order to look away and live with themselves.

Because my mom insisted on breaking the cycle, walking away from abuse, learning and making changes, because of this I was not an abused child. Me and my siblings were given the gifts my mom craved when she was a girl. Unconditional love, brave support, and the absolute certainty that we were important and our lives had value. My mom insisted on giving this gift to me and my sister, and then adopted several kids who did come from abuse. The labels they had were many but my mom peeled them away to reveal children. Just children.

This is powerful to know! Because we all make mistakes as parents, friends, and spouses. We all do things that are abusive or cruel now and then. 

But when we insist on seeing our mistakes clearly and making changes, when we are willing to walk away from people and places that hurt us or our children, we are creating an environment of safety and love. Sure, abuse might happen - bullying, pushing, inappropriate talk or touch, stifling of passions, name calling - but when we are open to seeing these things and making changes or walking away, our children are not "abused" children. 

There are, oh so sadly, children who grow up abused. Beaten, molested, manipulated, told in all kinds of ways that they are worthless and their existence is worse than a waste. I wish with all of my heart this weren't true, but I know that it is. 

But there are many more children who grow up loved and adored, with people who will do whatever it takes to be sure they know that. Grown ups who will do whatever they imagine is right to help these children become successful. Children who have dedicated loved ones that also make mistakes.

Abusing a child is not the same as surrounding a child with love that evolves and makes mistakes.

For any of us who worried that we might have been abusive because of these mistakes, this is powerful to realize.

For those of you who stepped in and loved a child when they were in need of support and kindness - in big ways like my mom did or in small ways as I have done over the years - I hope you know that you made a difference. You planted a seed.

And for those of you who were abused children and then did the painful, rewarding, scary, eye opening work of changing things for your children or for other people's children, 

Thank you. 

Thank you, thank you, thank you! 


Hugs, smiles, and love!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

 My mom with with my sister and I. 


Friday, April 3, 2015

Autism Answer: They're So Big, These Small Silly Things

*Trigger Warning-
I've written this in honor of sexual assault awareness and prevention month.* 


"Let's Face It, Your Prince....
Turned Into A Toad."
I'm sorry. Love you Mucho,
~Dad
___________________

That's what the card my step-dad gave me when I was twelve said. That's one of the ways he apologized for molesting me. 

I had told my mom about the midnight touching and she kicked him out of the house. But first she insisted he apologize to me. 

At the time this card, with a cartoon drawing of a prince on its cover and an adorable little toad on the inside, seemed almost ridiculous.

It wasn't. 

I still have it today. 

My mom is brilliant. 

My step-dad not only admitted his guilt, he gave me something physical that blamed him. Not me, him. 

You have no idea how big that is. How comparatively easy it made my healing, and possibly his. 

Well, maybe you do know. 

A scary number of boys and girls, men and women, are raped or molested. 

A scary number are never believed and are alone in their healing. That's after they've gotten the courage (and boy, does it take courage!) to tell someone what happened to begin with. 

A scary number never tell in the first place. 

My mom is brilliant. 

Not only was she aware of how important it would be for me to know entirely that I was believed and not at fault (because she is one of the scary numbers who was not believed and even blamed) but she insisted he apologize and make it obvious. 

Not only did I heal in ways my fellow molested brothers and sisters often never do, I learned the value of small seemingly silly offerings. 

If I can do something to help someone, or can do something to make up for my own mistake or failure, but the something seems inadequate, I'm tempted then not to do it at all. It's almost embarrassing sometimes to do such small silly things. 

But then I remember that card. Bought by my step-dad at our corner drug store when my mom insisted he apologize for molesting me. 

"Let's Face it, Your Prince...
Turned into a Toad."


He did. 

But by clearly acknowledging it we were both free to find new princes and far away lily pads.

How big they are, these small silly things. Don't ever be afraid or embarrassed to do what little you can. 

Because quite likely it's not silly or little at all. 

Hugs, smiles, and love!! 
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook) 

Jeff: A Sexually Realized Spiritual Odyssey of Stepping Into Love-- by Lynette Louise


*I never saw my step-dad again and he passed away about ten years ago. He had a new life and I hope it was worthy of him. Of course, because I never saw him again, I don't know what that would be.

**If you are struggling with abuse the effects of abuse, past or recent, I encourage you to reach out to RAINN (Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network) and also to read the book my mom wrote. Jeff: A Sexually Realized Spiritual Odyssey of Stepping Into Love. With poetry, candor, and masterful storytelling she'll find you wherever you are in the dark and hold your hand as you step together into the light. My mom (Lynette Louise, The Brain Broad) is kind and strong that way. Hugs!!

Thursday, October 10, 2013

Autism Answer: What's Your Story?

Someone asked me a while back: So--what's your story?
I told them this:
I was molested as a child and felt responsible for many of the struggles that followed.
I've lived life surrounded by autism (my mom and brothers were on the spectrum) and dealt with the guilt I felt for years as the sister who didn't truly believe. My brothers seemed so limited to me, and my mom so embarrassing! 
I was outwardly sweet but silently slightly resentful of my adopted sisters, who were beautiful and horribly harmed in the homes before ours. Their beauty could make me jealous and their true abuse made me feel like mine was silly. The guilt drove me to do some pretty wild thing... all in hopes of running away from it. All of these things (and many more!) are part of my life, and part of me.

But my story is simple. I am a mother who insists on discovering her passions, so that I can comfortably expect it of my children. I willingly--and with a curious nature--dive into my darkest thoughts to shed light. And then I share and suggest change! I choose to remember the me I once was without anger or judgment as a way to easily accept and believe in my own boys when they admit to similar thoughts and deeds. And in hopes that I can help them avoid much of it and make intentional change!
We are a mismatched family of colorful misfits, and acceptance has become our war cry! 
And I have chosen to reveal the importance of an accepting nature with volume, smiles and silly true stories!
My story is simple. I am a mom who knows what kind of world she wants for her children!

So--what's your story?


Monday, September 16, 2013

Autism Answer: ONE: It's not your Fault. TWO: What can you do different?

I wrote this article with a focus on sex abuse survivors. 

However, the idea that we are often afraid to learn from accidents or traumatic events where we really aren't to blame, but did play a a role, is universally problematic. Traveling down the "what could I do differently" path often reveals harmful choices we ourselves made that may have encouraged a disaster, or put us in the path of one. 

As parents we have to get comfortable knowing that the way we played, or didn't play, with our children is part of who they are becoming now. We must be willing to look at some of the rules we made, or didn't make, that may have been accidentally harmful to our children, because at one point we just didn't know better.

I see a willingness to look at our own part to play, even when it really wasn't our fault, as strong, brave and powerfully important. 


If you choose to read the article I wrote, please keep that point in mind. It's not about sexual abuse so much as it's about being open to learning from ourselves, even if it means seeing what we could have done different. 

Especially then!

Hugs, smiles, and love!!!!

Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)


Us teens enjoying some sun.
Man, that was long ago!! 




ONE: It’s not your Fault
TWO: What you can do Different

When a child is molested or an adult is raped they are told—rightfully!—that it’s not their fault. 

However, it is far less common to then point out what they could do different so that it’s less likely to happen again. It’s in this place that many of us survivors of sexual abuse are let down and harm ourselves even further. Because if it isn’t our fault, but there are no steps we can take to avoid it happening again, then the world is dangerous and unpredictable. And it has chosen to hurt us specifically. 

My step-dad (who we all called dad) molested me when I was twelve. I knew it wasn’t my fault, and I knew that if I told my mom she would not only believe me but would also make it stop. But I also felt like telling my mom would mean ruining our family, and that a strong woman could keep her mouth shut. I mention this because no matter how sincerely you tell a victim that they are not to blame, they’ll find something to feel responsible for—so it’s important to give them more. After my dad came into my room a second time I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle life in our home if I didn’t tell my mom. Plus, by then I’d started to see all of the other things he was doing inappropriately, even outside of the midnight molesting. It took some time and an unlikely opening (my mom told me I needed to keep my room cleaner and so I yelled at her, “Well maybe if someone would stop sneaking into my room at night to touch me, I would!”) but I did disclose the happening, and she did believe me. She also made it stop and we spent years learning about the cycle of abuse. 

After telling my mom our lives did change. For my mom it meant taking care of eight kids (six adopted, four on the spectrum of autism) by herself, but with a freedom to learn and teach and become who she’d always wanted to be. Life was much better, but also harder. Learning what you could have done differently is important, but it hurts. Because before you knew, you made dangerous choices. My molestation wasn’t my fault, and it also wasn’t my mom’s fault, but we both could have made choices that would have kept it from happening. 

This is what we are afraid to tell victims, because it sounds dangerously like blame. But it’s not blame, it’s knowledge and power. And if we care enough about victims then we need to be strong enough to listen, believe, and then let them hate us while we reveal what habits they can change to stay safe. In truth it is the victim themselves who will have to discover their own habits that need changing, but a friendly push in that direction is often needed. And potentially lifesaving. 

Think of it like this. You’re on your way to the mall and stopped at a red light. The light turns green, you go, and some distracted dork runs the red and hits you. The accident was not your fault, but you’d be a fool not to change a habit. From now on you’ll hopefully look and assess before going through the green, even though it should be perfectly safe. Likely you’ll also start wondering if it was your fault—were you thinking about that purse you want to buy or the hot guy that works in the shoe department? Regardless, it was not your fault, but there are things you can do different. 

When I was twelve, all I had to do was tell my mom about my step-dad’s lingering fingers when I was saying goodnight and he never would have actually molested me. This is an absolute truth, because my mom would have kicked him out. And if my mom had taken the steps to learn why she had been raped, molested and beaten as a younger woman, she never would have married my step-dad in the first place. This is an absolute truth. 

So if you are a victim, if you know a victim (or even an abuser, but that’s for another post!) please speak up and out. Don’t blame, but don’t ever be afraid to see what can be done different! 

The world is full of all types of kind and cruel, and though it isn’t your place to judge which is which in the lives of others, it is your place to judge for yourself. It is your right to keep yourself safe. You are your most important responsibility. Love yourself, respect yourself and take care of yourself. Almost always that means to learn from yourself.  

It’s not your fault. Now discover what you can do different and take control of your healing. Take control of your happiness. 

It happened, so give it a reason.