The #MeToo Article That Isn’t Being Written — Incest

With the rash of #MeToo articles and revelations that have come out in recent months, there is still a huge gap that has yet to be fully discussed: incest. That’s when a family member — not just your father — is sexually inappropriate. That includes rape, assault, undesired touch, inappropriate boundaries, physical and emotional. It can set a person up for further assault or violations later in life, and I’d be curious to know how many of the women who’ve come forward in #MeToo first experienced abuse at the hands of a family member. I know I’m one of them.

Statistics say the number of women who’ve been incested is about one in five, but many others estimate that number is closer to one in three. It could indeed be the drunk father and the zoned-out mother, it could be the pubescent boy and his friends “experimenting” on a little sister, it could be Grampa or Uncle putting his hand in a private place while a young girl is in his lap. It could even be Mom inappropriately washing a son or daughter, or acting as an exhibitionist to get their own attention needs met through over-exposing themselves to their children or asking for “feedback” about how they look and whether they’re sexually appealing to their own kids (numbers of incested boys are said to be about one in 7, but again, could be much higher).

Why is this important? Because these boundary violations so early on affect the development of what a child thinks of as behavior that is within the range of acceptability, when it is not. Further, there is often the scolding and fear put in to a child by the abuser should the child ever speak of the inappropriate events, and the shame around the attack even possibly eliciting physical sensations that may or may not be arousing and/or stimulating to the point of being “pleasurable.” None of that makes it right mind you — but a body is a body and depending on age, may respond in a certain way. Some kids will never talk about incest because they somehow think it’s their fault! That’s understandable, but incorrect.

All that is lost is innocence, the establishment of proper boundaries, and one’s own ability to judge what’s “normal” in relationships, especially as this relates to power-dynamics. Remember, it’s the boundary of the power-dynamic that’s violated with incest: the betrayal of trust of a familiar face of a family member, which is often also coupled with a large age difference (even if its sibling incest) and a natural survival dependency from the child to the abuser (kids can’t survive without their caretakers, we’re mammals).

These traumatic events and their lack of boundaries somatically get stored in our bodies. That’s why often gut feelings that something’s wrong, or cognitive awareness that something’s dangerous, bad, or unfair, aren’t enough to prevent situations where as an adult, a child incest survivor is abused further more readily by others. An analogy: if someone (an abuser) always colored outside the lines, and told you to do the same (and threatened you if you didn’t, even if it didn’t “look” right to you), how would you know what it’s like to color within them? You wouldn’t.

I remember reading a story about a year ago, of an account of one high-profile media executive who was in the process of being taken down for assault accusations, that included an allusion to the “sense” that he’d always had of knowing which women he would be successful at manipulating (sexually or otherwise) and which ones he would not. The article implied that he abused the ones he felt he could exploit. This is not an unreal phenomena — men do this all the time, with transgressions large and small, whether full-out assault, an inappropriate touch on a body part, or by crossing a line and kissing someone who is supposed to be a colleague or platonic friend. And it’s not right.

There are a lot of people who are uncomfortable with the word incest and don’t speak of it. Dylan Farrow has talked extensively about her father Woody Allen and just now the public is starting to believe her story. What about all the other little girls (and boys) out there who have stories to tell?

Understanding how human physiology and the brain works can help with understanding what to do here. Often, our explicit and implicit memories are at odds, but our deepest memories and traumas are stored in our bodies’ nervous system, even as an adult, and often dictate how we operate in the world.

Explicit memory is like an “autobiography” of facts and dated events. Implicit memory is more like a “memoir,” more like how we FEEL about someone or something. Often the two seem to be at odds. Often, if an incested woman remembers an abuser, she may even not explicitly remember an event of abuse, but implicitly, she may have a gut feeling something about someone being unsafe (father, uncle, brother) when in fact, they were someone she had hoped to look up to, wanted and deserved love from, and was betrayed.

The thing is, these “memories” are often stored in the body and these traumatic memories can’t always be worked on via traditional talk therapy or explanations. Body-based therapies and trauma work, like that of Dr. Pat Ogden, Dr. Bessel Van der Kolk, and/or Dr. Peter Levine, for starters, can begin to unlock some of the hypo- or hyper-aroused or frozen states survivors often find themselves in, when explicit memories fail to explain what’s keeping us from thriving in life.

Survivors often feel a general sense of unworthiness — of there being something wrong with them. Of accommodation, perhaps. Of rage. Of indifference. How a person handles their abuse varies, depending not only of their level of consciousness about it, but also, whether they even are in a position to seek help, and further, whether any is even available based on their financial or social circumstance, or even, based on the society or family values around it — if the price of seeking help is the possibility of being further shamed or excluded, many will be reluctant to do it because we are mammals and exist relationally and in community. We need each other and however independent we may seem, we die, spiritually, emotionally, and yes, physically, in isolation.

I’ve spoken in the past, in my two books, about my father’s inappropriate sexual boundaries. As a child, I didn’t have a sense of what was ok and not ok, right and wrong, and even as a teen and young woman and as an adult woman: I’ve had to work hard to figure out how to discern where my right to say no — and yes — lies, and how by being nice or accommodating, in trying not to tick off a potential employer, for example, I’ve often been the target of further harassment in my adult life. This is all boundary work that’s kids who’ve been incested lose out on developing as a child.

I would encourage courageous women to add to the stories of #MeToo and include what’s happening in our own family homes, or what did happen. I would encourage moms and dads to speak — a lot — to their daughters and sons about boundaries, emotional and physical, and also, investigate their own issues and feelings around them so they don’t pass on too-porous or too-rigid boundaries to their loved ones. We can work to understand and even condemn ignorant behavior and we can do everything in our power to heal ourselves and prevent any further harm to ourselves and others. I would encourage this “redheaded stepchild” of incest and family sexual abuse to be brought out into the light at this time.

Because right now, #TimesUp for family members to prey on their own children, too. To counter this, we have to look at toxic masculinity and systemic patriarchy — and how men are hurting and prevented from having a full experience of what it means to be human, under these systems. In a world where men always have to compete and subjugate, can’t cry or grieve or be close to another man without the fear of being called names, often this can turn into abuse of power of little ones right under their roofs. This is unacceptable. Men, as all humans do, need to be allowed to have a full experience of their feelings and humanity, and understand that what’s there is not always for the taking. Yes means yes to an adult with agency. Kids are not in that category, especially the ones who depend on you. That the perpetuation of the cycle of abuse and further re-traumatization can stop, and must. That means men need to be allowed to get help when they feel low. That means men need to learn to know what feelings even feel like and be able to start to name them. All people, especially men, need to learn how to use their words when talking about sexual or romantic activity, which means checking shame at the door and seeing the other party as a full whole dignified human being worthy of respect and proper treatment. Alexithymia is a lack of social and emotional awareness; a condition whereby people can’t even name what’s going on with them because naming their feelings is anathema to them. Often times, that’s because they are shut down and frozen because that’s what they needed to do to survive as kids in their traumatic or neglectful home. Attachment theory explains this as avoidant behavior. Not all men are like this of course, but for some, it’s a clue, not of abusive tendencies mind you, but of an inability to duly know one’s own inner life and be able to explain and express it, which men are often told not to do for fear of looking weak in society. We need to find a better way.

Because while the #MeToo movement to date has been about women coming forward about about having BEEN abused, it’s time to start the conversation about WHY MEN ABUSE, and that includes compassion for whatever it is that ever made them think such a thing would be OK in the first place (or have too-porous boundaries to begin with, based on their own developmental traumas)… and that, likely, dates back to some kind of “lesson” they learned, spoken or unspoken, when they were children… in addition to a society and media culture that promotes exploitation of all kinds at multiple levels, at the expense of wellbeing for all.

I’m hopeful this is the beginning of that conversation. I know I wanted my father to love me unconditionally, as any child would, and that I learned early on that he was only happy if I tried to please him. (He was a narcissist, and no-one could ever sustainably please him.) That as a child, my boundaries and “no’s” didn’t matter; only his did, and that I only might get what I ever needed from him — an inconsistent drip, drip — of occasional nice behavior from him, if I did what he wanted. While that “software program” was running within me for a long time, I’ve updated it and switched it out. It had a lot of bugs in it, but my laptop’s no longer infected. That said, I still scan for viruses. I’m mindful of my motivations, intentions, and actions. I have a new set of boundaries that makes me feel empowered and enables me to realize when something’s off. I don’t have to be mean, but I call people out in bad behavior if it’s useful and true and necessary. This conversation is also about perceived and unchecked entitlement, privilege and power, but I do have compassion for the systemic patriarchal and capitalist structures that make many men (and some women) feel like they’ve had to abdicate feelings and ‘conquer,’ rather than actually be able to have real dialogue around issues and behaviors they’re struggling with or ignorant of, but negatively impact others.

I’ll say this: time’s up. I’ve done enough work to realize I wasn’t to blame, but the many men since my father that I’ve had to erect boundaries with but wasn’t strong enough to do so, had more to do with my somatic programming from too-porous boundaries I was required to have back then in order to survive, than any cognitive desire or awareness around what would make, create, or allow me to be seen as a full human and not just a sex object there to please another.

This is a note for any woman who feels like she is “off,” “unworthy,” or “undeserving.” Who feels like the cycle keeps repeating with men: bosses, husbands, boyfriends, colleagues… that somehow, it’s impossible to feel sustainably respected, loved and/or cared for.

Developmental trauma — which the DSMV has yet to use as an official classification — is a thing, and incest is certainly a huge developmental trauma with lasting impact well into adulthood.

Let’s talk about it. Incest, boundaries, the full range of humanity. It’s time. Mold only grows where its wet — let’s air it out and let this often misunderstood issue get the overdue attention it deserves. Let’s clear a path. Let’s start afresh. Let’s continue to heal together.