Personal Development

Get Over Your Sexual Abuse and Stop Talking About It: The Pain of the Second Wound

Disclaimer and Trigger ALERT Warning:

This article discusses topics of sexual abuse and may be very upsetting and triggering for some readers. It also contains heavy sarcasm, which, while intended for emphasis on the nature of the topic at hand being discussed, i.e., the second wound, might not be for everyone. Please read with care, and take breaks or seek support if needed. Reader discretion is advised.

Ah, yes. The classic family rebuttal to childhood trauma: Just get over it. Nothing quite hits the spot like being told to stop talking about it when you’re trying to process the nightmare of childhood abuse. Of course, you actually haven’t ‘talked about it at all’. They are referring to the unmitigated threat posed when you mentioned it in the first place: the so-called abuse that you probably made up for attention anyway! It’s almost as though families believe the power of silence can magically erase years of post-traumatic stress and internal anguish. Because, clearly, the real issue here isn’t the abuse — It’s that YOU are making others uncomfortable by bringing it up. Your first mistake was thinking what happened to you was the family’s priority.

The title of this article, Get Over Your Sexual Abuse and Stop Talking About It… is a prime example of the second wound: it’s that added, almost invisible layer of trauma inflicted when people respond to abuse with indifference, dismissal, victim-blaming, or disbelief. “Stop talking about it,” they demand, as if silence could cure the deep psychological damage. But, of course, silence is a balm, right? Wrong. It’s more like salt in the wound — just a little seasoning to spice up the pain.

You’ll ruin the family if you talk about such things, child! Ah, yes. Because everyone knows the foundation of a happy, loving family is built on secrecy, shame, and sweeping things under the rug. Truth? Oh, no, we don’t want any of that. Honesty? Nah. That would require accountability, and heaven forbid we confront reality. The family’s reputation is far more important than a child’s well-being, right?

It’s almost laughable when you think about it. The truth will set you free, the preacher at church says on Sunday morning, his voice booming with righteous conviction. But when the truth is uncomfortable, the response is a resounding, Shhh. Don’t talk about it! And just…like…that…, we enter the bizarre world of the moral hokey-pokey where protecting the abuser becomes the priority, and shielding the child. Well, the child’s just collateral damage.

Now, let’s get real for a second. Childhood sexual abuse has become so pervasive, so ubiquitous, and (dare I say it?) so financially lucrative (like sex trafficking) that the response from families and friends has become nothing short of mind-boggling. The indifference, the disbelief, the silence — it’s so shocking that it feels like we’ve stepped into an alternate reality, a parallel universe where the very act of abuse seems to be the norm. Want to know what that universe looks like? Here it is:

Hey, if no one’s going to do anything about it, why not just legalize it? Throw it out there in the open! Let’s moralize it. Advertise it. Why dance around the elephant in the room? Let’s just take the mask off and boldly proclaim what people seem to be fine with anyway!

And why stop there?

We could create a whole new world of pro-sex abusers vs. anti-sex abusers. It’ll be like a morality-themed sports match. Who’s winning this week? “Oh, the pro-abusers are up by three! Can the anti-abusers make a comeback, or are they too weighed down by ‘feelings’ and ‘empathy’?”

Back to reality…Why, oh why, do families get so upset when children need help after being abused? Is it because their cries for support make everyone else feel, I don’t know, uncomfortable? It’s almost as if people believe that children should just accept their lot in life. You were abused? That’s unfortunate. But, hey, chin up! You’ll be fine if you just don’t talk about it. We’ve got a reputation to maintain here!

The real kicker is when people act as though protecting a child is somehow burdensome. Wait, you want help? Protection? After being abused? Seriously? Wow, you are WAY too needy! It’s almost as if people are so wrapped up in their own discomfort and avoidance that they can’t comprehend the depth of a child’s suffering.

The irony of it all is that we treat other childhood issues with such reverence and delicacy. Childhood asthma? Let’s hold a walk! Childhood leukemia? Let’s bike across the country! But childhood sexual abuse? Crickets. Absolute silence. You’ll never hear someone say to a cancer patient, “Get over it already.” Or tell someone paralyzed from the neck down after a major accident, “You’re making it up. Just move on.” But a child abuse survivor? Oh, you’re still talking about that? It’s time to let it go. Aren’t you tired of dwelling on it?

The truth is, we are uncomfortable with addressing childhood abuse because it challenges our deeply ingrained illusions about family, safety, and trust. It makes us question the very foundation of our moral reality. And instead of addressing that discomfort within ourselves, we lash out at the victims, telling them to bury their trauma so we can go back to pretending everything is fine. We say, “Wish it into the cornfield, please, son, wish it into the cornfield!” just like the father said in the Twilight Zone episode, “It’s A Good Life.”

So, to every child and adult survivor who’s been told to shut up about their abuse, here’s a message: Don’t. Stop. Talking. Your voice is your weapon, your truth is your shield, and your story deserves to be heard. It’s not your job to protect others from the reality of what happened to you. It’s not your burden to carry their shame or discomfort. The pain of the second wound — the disbelief, the dismissal, the silence — can be worse than the first, but it’s one you don’t have to bear alone.

And to the rest of the world, it’s time we stop being so obtuse about who we choose to help and who we choose to silence. Protecting children should be our priority. Period. And if that makes us uncomfortable, maybe it’s time we sit with that discomfort and ask ourselves: Why is protecting an abuser easier than supporting a child?

If your heart resonated with this article, give it a heart beat. Don’t miss out — follow us on Jagged Verse to get notified the moment it’s published. Your journey to better, healthy communication starts here!

Reply, React or Respond

REPLY, REACT OR RESPOND 0