Day 13 of Believing the Girl – Loving Her Abuser

On June 24, I agreed with my therapist that I would believe the girl, the inner child, the wounded part of me who never received the help she needed to recover from sexual abuse. I would start this immediately and keep it up at least through the end of July. After literally years of torturing myself with “is it true?” and “since my memories are blurry, I must have made them up,” I went cold turkey. No more of that painful, addictive, hateful doubt. I’m now on Day 13.

One challenge I’ve encountered is that if I’m going to believe the girl and comfort her, I need to hear what she is saying, figure out what she is feeling. After all the practice I’ve had drowning her out, this is not the easiest thing to do. E. suggested art, very simple art, finger painting or print making, as well as writing with my non-dominant hand. 
2015 7-5 Love You Hate You

So I have experimented a little.  Here’s what I have learned so far: 1) the girl likes red and orange and black–colores de sangre, colores de lo que quema; 2) she is a lot more angry than I thought she was; and 3) she loves her abuser. She wants to be his little girl. She senses that he is hurt and needs love and protection, and she wants to give it to him. She is tender. She is caring. But there’s a storm in her little soul.


  1. Oh, I just can’t hit ‘like’ because of what the blacks, oranges and red must mean, they look so much like blood and wounds; colors I used too when working with Raymond, though a good amount of red was also rage. I admire your bravery at looking into this abyss.


  2. This is powerful. As you know, I am/ my girl is more angry than I thought as well. I don’t do anger very well except to myself but not so much anymore.
    I still love my grandpa SO much and I miss him and I crave to curl up into his warmth. He had an anchor tattoo on his arm as well. I used to look at it and trace it with my fingers. I loved that tattoo. I almost got an anchor tattoo on my arm but of course I realized I needed to tell my girl that was not so wise.
    Doubt is a sorts of hateful emotion isn’t it?!


    • Something happened to our modem so although I wrote my Day 14 post last night, I couldn’t actually post it until my husband replaced the modem this morning. I was so very touched to read your kind message!
      Yesterday in therapy, I told E. that posting every day about what it meant that day to believe the girl was good for me, because it kept me actively working on it every day. “It makes you accountable too,” she said, “if others are expecting you to post.” “Oh, I don’t think anyone is really noticing whether I post something or not,” I told her, “but I feel I want to.” And then today I got this message from you, checking in because you noticed a missing post. It feels like such warm and caring support! Thank you!


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