Why We Don't Talk about It

When I was a teenager, I was facing the worst emotional crisis I had ever faced in my life and (if my prediction comes true) probably ever will. I felt depressed, angry and helpless 90% of the time and just wanted to cut myself off from my family for good. The worst part of it was the fact that I felt like I was all alone in the world. I didn't talk about my problems to a single soul, and even though I desperately wanted help it felt like there was no one out there to help me. I just wasn't close to my friends, and I didn't think I could tell them about what was going on at home. I didn't know who I could turn to. So I suffered in silence, too afraid to come out of the closet about the fact that I was hurting very, very badly.

Right now I am slowly working my way out of what (I hope) was the darkest period in my life. But even now there are plenty of times where I feel very angry and sad, and I don't know what to do about it. So I started reflecting about my situation, and a thought occurred to me. What if I were to just . . .let it out? Tell someone? Not wait around for the right person to present themselves to me, but just let my problems out to someone I knew?

So I thought about that for a while, and then decided that I would reveal a little bit of my story to my friend, Rebecca during one of our get-togethers. Well, she and I spent a day in a park together, just walking around and chatting about random topics. Rebecca is a good friend of mine, and while we're not extremely close, her kindness has shown me that I can trust her to reveal some of the issues I've dealt with.

Well, we were chatting and walking and walking and chatting and . . . I never told her. Anything. I didn't let the tiniest sliver of my story come out to her.

Why did that happen? Why didn't I tell her anything? Why is it so hard to talk about our issues?

I think there are a few reasons why:

1. We're afraid of criticism: I've talked about my past to people in my life before, and sometimes they have been very critical of the things I've said. When we're expressing feelings like "I hate my sister!!," others often want to react with something along the lines of, "Don't say that! That's terrible!" Such invalidation shuts us up and makes us think resentfully to ourselves, You know what?! You'd be saying the EXACT SAME THING if she was your sibling! Better to not talk about it at all.  
2. People are condescending: Putting yourself in a vulnerable position can give the person you are speaking to a chance to give themselves a power trip. Even if she seems like she's being nice, often what comes out of Miss Condescension's mouth is a put-down in disguise. "Oh sweetie," she'll say, "All siblings fight with each other. Just don't let it bother you so much." Being treated like you're five years old and having someone downplay your problems is tough to handle. And this brings me to my third point. . .
3. People just don't get it:  "Oh but that's normal," is the common response from people we've talked about our experiences with. They don't understand that what happened to us was unacceptable, inexcusable, and has left lasting scars. Sometimes people think we're trying to bring the conversation around to birth order. We fear they'll respond to our problems with, "But what about all the shit that younger siblings do?" Or they'll turn the conversation back to themselves and say, "Well, I was the oldest child, and I had it really tough...." another topic that really, really irritates us.
4. We don't want to make others uncomfortable: What we've been through has not been pretty. This is especially true for survivors of physical and sexual abuse, but even stories about emotional abuse can make others cringe. We don't want our friends to be stuck in an awkward position where they don't know how to respond to something we've told them. So instead, we keep quiet.
5. We feel uncomfortable: Feeling vulnerable does not feel good to us. We don't want to seem weak to others or to ourselves. Hearing our emotions expressed out loud makes them very real for us, while previously we'd been able to pretend that they didn't exist. Reliving situations where a sibling humiliated you or beat you up, especially out loud, is not a pleasant experience. We would rather give help to others than be on the receiving end of help from others. To us, revealing our problems feels like we're making ourselves weaker.

Every once in a while I ask myself if I have any regrets about my experience with sibling abuse. To be honest, I don't really think I do. I don't think fighting back harder would have made a difference. I don't think explaining it to my parents would have made a difference. I don't think that anything I could have done would have stopped the abuse itself.

But I think that there's something I do regret. I regret not opening up about my feelings to the people in my life. I think my teenage years would have been ten times better had I talked to my friends about what I was going through. I can hear sixteen-year-old me saying, "Ha! Easier said than done!" And maybe that's true. But I used to think that a close friendship was something that happened to you, and now I see that it's something you create. I used to think you needed to wait for the right friend to come along for you to finally divulge deeper parts of yourself. But you don't, really. You don't need the absolute right moment to tell people how you're feeling--you just need a good enough moment.

The exception I think is with physical or sexual abuse. In those cases, in my opinion, you do need the right moment to finally reveal that information. And I think that moment can come along. I had a good friend reveal to me that she experienced physical abuse at the hands of an older sibling. In turn, I revealed to her some of my story. And it was a good experience for both of us.

Looking back, I realize that the only time I ever came out of the closet to someone was when they had revealed some of their personal struggles to me first. Hearing someone else's story made me feel safe to reveal mine, because I knew that they wouldn't criticize, belittle or judge me. And it makes me wonder how many other friends I had like me, who were waiting to reveal their story but wanted someone else to go first so that they could feel safe.

So I have a dare for you. Wait for a good enough moment, and then reveal at least part of your story to a friend of yours. Go first.