What actually gets passed down

Trauma can alter the expression of genes. That is epigenetics. Stress, famine, displacement, and chronic fear can leave biochemical markers on DNA packaging that change gene function without changing the genetic code. What parents and grandparents endured not only shapes family habits. It can shape how a nervous system responds to threat, attachment, and safety many decades later. In a landmark study of Holocaust families, researchers documented shifts in methylation of FKBP5, a regulator of the cortisol system, in survivors and in their children who did not live through the original events. Comparable patterns show up in other contexts as well, including families affected by war, genocide, severe discrimination, natural disasters, and refugee flight. The point is simple. When people say trauma runs in a family, it is not just a figure of speech.

Inherited trauma rarely looks like a story

What passes forward is not always a narrative or a flashback. It often looks like a survival strategy that does not match the current environment. A child grows up in a safe home, yet cannot sleep unless every curtain is closed and every door is checked. A teenager treats disagreement like a death sentence, even in a respectful household. An adult keeps pushing away secure partners because the body has learned that calm usually comes before danger. These are not quirks. They are trained reflexes. They stay invisible until someone starts asking the right questions.

You do not inherit a diagnosis. You inherit the coping

CPTSD is not handed down like eye color. Defense patterns are. Silence is. Emotional constriction is. When trauma is not processed, it leaks into parenting through control, through chaos, or through inconsistency that leaves a child sensing danger without language to name it. Children repeat what works, even if it only worked in the old house. They pass it on not because they are broken, but because they were trained by example.

When pain gets ritualized

Trauma does not always announce itself. Sometimes it hides inside rules that are treated as virtues. Do not talk about feelings. Stay productive no matter what. Outsiders cannot be trusted. Keep the family’s business inside the house. Loyalty above all. The same mechanism hides domestic violence that nobody names. It hides animal abuse that neighbors avoid reporting. It hides generational child abuse that gets rebranded as strict parenting. In some families, stints in jail become a rite of passage rather than a warning sign. From the inside, these patterns sound like culture or tradition. Trace them backward and you usually find war, forced moves, addiction, shame, betrayal, or plain neglect. When trauma is not processed, it gets ritualized. It is repackaged as rules, reinforced as identity, and handed down as survival even when the danger is long gone. Dysfunction is often inherited pain on autopilot.

Breaking a pattern requires recognition, not avoidance

Moving on without naming the pattern does not change the pattern. It extends it. Real change starts with accurate labels. Name what happened in the family line, even if it was not your direct experience. Notice the default settings that make no sense in your current life. Choose deliberate counter-moves. Rest when the old rule says grind. Set a boundary where the old rule says keep secrets. Speak where the old rule says stay quiet. This is demanding work because you are not only adjusting your mood. You are rerouting generations of survival programming. That is heavy labor, not a slogan. It is also where the leverage sits. You are not obligated to carry the pain forward because it was handed to you. The future of the pattern is not fixed.

Final thoughts

If you feel like you were born carrying grief that did not start with you, or fear that does not match your lived history, you are not defective. You may be the first one who chose to hold up the mirror. You get to decide what continues and what ends.

References

Yehuda R, Daskalakis NP, et al. Holocaust exposure induced intergenerational effects on FKBP5 methylation. Biological Psychiatry. 2016;80(5):372-380.
Dias BG, Ressler KJ. Parental olfactory experience influences behavior and neural structure in subsequent generations. Nature Neuroscience. 2014;17(1):89-96.
Serpeloni F, Radtke KM, et al. Does prenatal stress shape postnatal resilience? Epigenetics and behavior in war-exposed Syrian refugees. Translational Psychiatry. 2017;7(7):e1185.

Photo by Sangharsh Lohakare on Unsplash

Guest Post Disclaimer: Any and all information shared in this guest blog post is intended for educational and informational purposes only. Nothing in this blog post, nor any content on CPTSDfoundation.org, is a supplement for or supersedes the relationship and direction of your medical or mental health providers. Thoughts, ideas, or opinions expressed by the writer of this guest blog post do not necessarily reflect those of CPTSD Foundation. For more information, see our Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer.

Dr. Mozelle Martin

Dr. Mozelle Martin is a retired trauma therapist and former Clinical Director of a trauma center, with extensive experience in forensic psychology, criminology, and applied ethics. A survivor of childhood and young adulthood trauma, Dr. Martin has dedicated decades to understanding the psychological and ethical complexities of trauma, crime, and accountability. Her career began as a volunteer in a women’s domestic violence shelter, then as a SA hospital advocate, later becoming a Crisis Therapist working alongside law enforcement on the streets of Phoenix. She went on to earn an AS in Psychology, a BS in Forensic Psychology, an MA in Criminology, and a PhD in Applied Ethics, ultimately working extensively in forensic mental health—providing psychological assessments, intervention, and rehabilitative support with inmates and in the community. A published author and lifelong student of life, she continues to explore the relationship and crossovers of forensic science, mental health, and ethical accountability in both historical and modern contexts.

www.InkProfiler.com

“Be careful whom you trust; evil cloaks itself in many forms.”

What is love if it doesn’t hurt, or like in my case, crash with a whimper? Perhaps your first crush was like mine? Nick was a 20-something Anglo-Indian with Bobby Deol’s looks, John Travolta’s swagger, and an angelic, disarming purity. We met on a rainy day outside his place; cousin Martin played matchmaker. Me, a rebellious teen with a sassy, blunt bob, shook hands with this shy guy whose guileless grin hit like a thunderbolt. Then he spoke, and it all went downhill — his voice was a bizarre mix of Sachin Tendulkar’s soft drawl and Michael Jackson’s high-pitched lilt. Although I was a die-hard MJ fan, I was gutted. Nope, not my vibe, despite my love for Jacko’s voice.

Jokes aside, all humans are creatures of habit. Our routine is sacrosanct, and so are our friends, family, and community. But what happens if this fragile thread of trust breaks? Much like the Garden of Eden, where roses bloom, you will find thorns. The past is engraved into our DNA as unspoken codes, known as epigenetic trauma.

Trauma from abuse and neglect creates CPTSD, unseen scars that affect both victims and future generations.

The Boomerang!

When you heal from an abusive childhood and CPTSD, it becomes imperative to find opportunities to recover through healthy gene expression by reversing toxic epigenetic patterns. My friend Bella has been through so much pain and trauma; it hurts her even as an adult. Her mother was a stunning single mother living in a small town who attracted many suitors. Unfortunately, she chose an unworthy man, a balding sadist whose charm concealed his vicious nature. Bella, barely 6 years old, immediately recognized that he was someone who made her uncomfortable—a predator in disguise. While her mother, blinded by love, saw his viciousness as humor and his control as love.

The False Pillars of Trust

We all lean on a support system, believing they’ll protect us. But pillars crumble, and Bella’s stepdad was no pillar. Meanwhile, her mother demanded that the siblings call him “Dad” before vows were even exchanged.

This situation resembles those who believe, “if you pretend it doesn’t exist, it will all just blow away!” The red flags were obvious if only her mother had opened her eyes.

The Predator’s Playground

One dusk, in her school playground, after everyone had left, the predator struck, forcing a humiliating punishment for being defiant. Right there before her “mother’s” eyes, he asked the 6-year-old Bella to roll down her pants and air her shame to the elements. If she didn’t abide by the ignominy, her ears would be boxed, taunted, or worse. So the scared little girl did so as speedily as she could, turning 360 degrees in a hurry, lest someone catch a glimpse of her unmentionables and laugh at her disgrace. The bald Lilliputian bully thought it was funny. As time rolled on, he proceeded to demean little Bella every day. So much so that she hated being around her mother or him. Then, finally, one day, the little girl put her foot down and threw a tantrum. As they say, bullies hate being called out.

And so that put a stop to the mortification for some time. But the tormentor found other ways to hurt her. The nightmare grew when he married her mother, finding new ways to subvert—locking up Bella, exploiting her fears and phobias, and thrashing her for minor mistakes. Her sibling stood by her, helpless but loyal, enduring the same.

Their mother never questioned. The sadist thrived on this pain; his cruelty became a twisted game. Bella grew moody and withdrawn, her childhood stolen by a man who cloaked perversion in parenting. Even when the siblings became adults, when he returned from his “overseas job,” his harassment evolved—unwelcome touches, suggestive innuendos, all disguised as fun. Relatives turned a blind eye, abetting the crime with silence. What is worse, we may ask—the predator or those who let him roam unchecked?

Pamela Calls Out the “Peeping Tom”

My friend Pam was eleven when she visited her hometown for a wedding. She stayed at her Uncle John’s mansion. Pam loved playing with her gang of little cousins, stirring mischief amid the wedding chaos. One day, while climbing the mansion roof, they caught her uncle John’s youngest son, Nathan, 16 and notorious, sprawled like a snake, peeping into a bathroom window. Pam’s outraged scream rallied the family, their racket drawing the aunts. Nathan was thrashed, his name forever tainted. Later visits to her uncle John’s had the women bathing with extra caution. Nathan’s married now, but do the ladies in the family trust him? Never.

Father Bob’s Redemption

All my life, I have been inspired by the Australian Roman Catholic priest Father Bob, or Robert John Maguire. He was no stranger to abuse and neglect. Born into poverty, his childhood reeked of alcohol and violence, his father’s fists bruising both mother and son. Orphaned by fifteen, losing his sister to tuberculosis at eleven, Father Bob carried scars deeper than flesh. Yet, those wounds didn’t break him; they forged a priest with a rebel’s heart, a champion for the forgotten. He was a man who turned pain into purpose, serving the marginalized with a fire no abuser could snuff out.

The Unending Trauma: An Anarchist’s Creed

Writing this cuts deep, so I shroud it, shielding the raw ache of my own memories. I’m familiar with darkness. As a paradox of pragmatism and rebellion, I always speak my mind. Life has taught me to confront truths. Scars make us realize that trust is earned. Bella’s challenging childhood didn’t break her; instead, she emerged strong, building a life filled with family, community, and a successful career. She learned to forgive—not just her abusers, but herself. Her journey mirrors that of Father Bob Maguire, whose upbringing in poverty and violence shaped him into an advocate for the marginalized. Both their experiences transformed pain into resilience and empathy.

Rewriting the Epigenetic Script

Epigenetic trauma is a silent phantom in our blood, passing pain across generations. Healing doesn’t erase these scars—it transmutes them, forging resilience, redemption, and forgiveness to break the cycle.

1. Awareness: Name the Ghost. Healing begins by confronting the past.

2. Re-regulating the Body: Alter your stress-related genes through meditation, exercise, and breathwork. This will ease anxiety and calm the nervous system.

3. Rewriting the Narrative: Change your story with therapy to transform from victim to survivor.

4. Crafting a New Epigenetic Landscape: When you regulate your lifestyle, you reshape your genes.

5. Breaking the Karmic Cycle: Exploring advocacy work can help. Many survivors of abuse and rape have found healing in the sharing of stories.

Final Thoughts: The Long Road Ahead

Intergenerational trauma is woven into our DNA through epigenetics and shapes who we become. Researchers have unpacked its neurobiological toll, offering sharp intellectual clarity. As for me, Mark Wolynn’s “It Didn’t Start with You” ignited my own CPTSD journey. Parents and children bear the physical, emotional, and psychological scars of past trauma, linked to disorders like depression, PTSD, and chronic fatigue syndrome.

Animal studies reveal early stress rewires brain regions like the hippocampus, impairing cognition. Science shows us that lifestyle and therapy can shift gene expression. You may not be able to erase your past but you can rewrite your story, and heal your darkest shadows for the generations that come after you. It is time to find your path—whether through art, expression, service, community, reading, or therapy—and rewrite your own destiny.

Guest Post Disclaimer: Any and all information shared in this guest blog post is intended for educational and informational purposes only. Names of people have been changed to protect their identities. Nothing in this blog post, nor any content on CPTSDfoundation.org, is a supplement for or supersedes the relationship and direction of your medical or mental health providers. Thoughts, ideas, or opinions expressed by the writer of this guest blog post do not necessarily reflect those of CPTSD Foundation. For more information, see our Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer.

References and sources:

NCBI

PMC

Psychology Today

Verywell Mind

Johns Hopkins Medicine

Photo by digitale.de on Unsplash

Guest Post Disclaimer: Any and all information shared in this guest blog post is intended for educational and informational purposes only. Nothing in this blog post, nor any content on CPTSDfoundation.org, is a supplement for or supersedes the relationship and direction of your medical or mental health providers. Thoughts, ideas, or opinions expressed by the writer of this guest blog post do not necessarily reflect those of CPTSD Foundation. For more information, see our Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer.

Jenney Clark

Jenney Clark is an Indian author and poet, best known for her book “Don’t Be Afraid to Love.” She has published eight books, including “Magic of the Ancients,” and hosts a podcast titled “Awakened Souls.” After leaving a successful job in the service industry, she pursued her passion for writing and became a life coach. Raised in a small town in India she discovered her psychic abilities at a young age and developed a strong interest in Tarot, astrology and numerology. She enjoys connecting with a diverse range of friends, including artists and writers and lives in a cozy “cubby hole” in Hyderabad with her dog, along with her beloved books and music

jenneyclark.com/

My father finally died a few months ago. Survivors will understand the word finally. I thought he would never die. Billy Joel’s song “Only the Good Die Young” was certainly true in this situation. I had gone no contact about seven years before, but the shadow of power this man wielded over my life continued, whether I was in contact with him or not. I even moved all the way across the country to put space between me and him. Space between the present and the past. The constructed reality he demanded everyone agree with, the dominating presence where no voice save his was heard, the judgmental pronouncements of doom and gloom over your life, the complete lack of understanding or empathy. These were just a few of the ways his brainwashing impacted me. 

These were just a few of the ways his brainwashing impacted me. 

And when he died, instead of the relief I felt at my mother’s passing, a terrible door that had been shut for over sixty years was opened. The parts of me from childhood that had split off and carried the load felt free to come forward, and it was hard. Hard to face them, hard to talk to them, and hard to become an ally to them instead of an enemy. 

There are no words to describe the damage and loss that occur when your parents choose the path of narcissism. To their very grave, my parents never had the slightest inkling of self-awareness or took any personal responsibility. In fact, my sibling and I were “disinherited.” The old threat to keep me within my father’s orbit finally came true. For me, I could understand it; I walked away years ago. But for my sibling who provided for my father financially and took care of his ex-wife, our mother, who otherwise would have been homeless, it was a low blow. Yet again, the narcissist showed his true colors. It did not matter what you did for the man; he did not know how to do anything other than hurt us. His final message? “You are worthless.” 

But I survived, and guess what? My father was wrong. It took everything I had to slog through the twisted spider web of lies he had spun. I spent decades trying to understand, reaching toward the truth that seemed to dissipate into mist at the slightest stress. To quiet the dissonance in my mind, heart, and soul. I used every technique and read every book I could get my hands on, but you know what? I made it. I have written a new chapter, established new relationships, and I walk in truth. What does the Bible say? The truth will set you free? Yep, that’s what it says. I can wonder at the joy in life, pursue dreams and goals I never thought reachable, and more than anything else, I can finish well, leaving a legacy of peace, encouragement, and kindness to my children. 

I pity my mother and father. They never knew how wonderful life could be. It is still hard sometimes, I suppose I will always bear the scars to a certain degree, but I made it. I made it out, and I am so thankful I did not give up. Defy trauma, embrace joy. It is worth it.

If you are interested in my newsletter or reading more content like this, please go to:

https://rebekahlaynebrown.com

Photo by Robert Anasch on Unsplash

Guest Post Disclaimer: Any and all information shared in this guest blog post is intended for educational and informational purposes only. Nothing in this blog post, nor any content on CPTSDfoundation.org, is a supplement for or supersedes the relationship and direction of your medical or mental health providers. Thoughts, ideas, or opinions expressed by the writer of this guest blog post do not necessarily reflect those of CPTSD Foundation. For more information, see our Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer.

Rebekah Brown

Rebekah Brown, a native of the south, now resides in the Great American West. Surviving a complicated and abusive family system makes her unique writing style insightful as well as uplifting. Rebekah is the proud mother of two and grandmother of four.

I have faced many traumas in my life and experienced repeated betrayal, often from those we are told we can trust—family.

An Existential Identity Crisis

I consider myself a quirk of fate; by some macabre twist, I was launched into a profoundly dysfunctional family. I grew up fatherless in a middle-class Roman Catholic household in a small South Indian town. My older sister Melanie and I were raised by our young, widowed mother in our maternal grandparents’ home, where we lived with an extended joint family.

I discovered that my father passed away from a heart attack just months after my mother conceived me, so I never knew him. Growing up without a father left me feeling empty, which may have influenced my tendency to form fleeting connections with abusive relationships and toxic friendships. The absence of pictures of my dad was heartbreaking, as it felt like all memories of him had been erased. I understand my mother likely acted out of her own grief, but it was painful that she didn’t encourage us to talk about him, leaving many questions unanswered.

Becoming a Social Outcast

At first, my mother worked hard as a teacher at our school until my soon-to-be stepfather, a medical student seven years younger, came into the picture. In the conservative town we lived in, rumors about the teacher and the young man quickly spread, and all hell broke loose at my grandparents’ home. The entire family was upset with her new relationship, but my mother was so in love that she didn’t care.

The school was even worse; we became social outcasts overnight, facing snide comments from classmates and family friends who labeled us as “the daughters” of the “flighty widow.” The reputation stuck.

As a grown woman, I understand that my widowed mother had the right to move on and lead her life. However, at age five, I only felt the loss of friends. Back then, single mothers dating wasn’t common in rural India, and my mother was blissfully unaware, caught up in her new romance as she traipsed around town in love-infested bliss.

The Birth of the Fear of Abandonment

When I was in third grade, she finally married and a few years later moved to the Middle East with her new doctor husband, leaving behind two lonely kids and a controversial reputation.

At every family event, we were seen as the “orphan Annies” and “oddballs,” garnering pity or scorn from others. In that conservative town, we stood out, burdened by a reputation we longed to escape. This likely fueled my craving for love and contributed to  ADHD and borderline personality disorder, which I discovered many years later.

Meanwhile, my childhood became a series of moves between relatives, amplifying feelings of abandonment. We were treated as unnecessary baggage, and the meager food we received was often rationed. Name-calling and forced chores made us feel like maidservants, whether cleaning the house, doing laundry, cooking, or babysitting. I was not yet 13, and I often went to bed hungry.

With each move, my sister and I faced a new set of accusations. In hindsight, I believe this wasn’t because we lacked virtue, but rather because our relatives were tired of bearing the burden of my mother. This was their way of “passing the buck” to someone else. Meanwhile, our mother hardly contributed to our expenses or sent money to those who took care of us.

Though Mom would visit us occasionally, her relationship with us, her daughters, changed dramatically. She refused to believe what we had endured and the ongoing criticism from our “overburdened” relatives. Instead, she relied only on hearsay, choosing to accept the narrative that portrayed us as the problem.

Walking Away From Abuse

At a relative’s home, life became so chaotic that we went from being poor, abandoned orphans to harassed teens overnight. The saddest part was that no one, especially our mother, wanted to believe us. They preferred to sweep everything under the rug rather than face the discomfort of the truth. I realized they chose not to support us because it allowed them to avoid their responsibilities.

As a result, in an effort to protect ourselves, two vulnerable girls walked away from a highly volatile situation and sought help from strangers. We felt unsafe among our own family.

Believe it or not, since then, we have mostly been estranged from our mother and socially isolated from our relatives. Aside from the odd occasion, I haven’t spent time with my relatives or mom in decades. Mom systematically and deliberately cut us off from any contact with the family.

 There is bullying, and then there is bullying of the worst kind; it’s called “social isolation,” the kind that was perpetuated by my dysfunctional family and also by friends at school.

This is the kind of bullying where “the strong” band together and trample “the defenseless” because there is strength in numbers—often aided by money, peer pressure, or the seniority that comes with age.

Rising from the Ashes

As a teenager, I found myself alone and began working hard to support myself. Life took a difficult turn; I met many people from whom I learned valuable lessons. I made numerous mistakes due to poor judgment and misplaced trust, but I’ve always managed to rise from them. While I regret those lapses, I would live my life the same way again because my past has shaped who I am today.

My career choice allowed me to meet many people. Early on, I took various odd jobs, each helping me develop new skills and fueling my ambition for success. I was open to any challenge, adapting and learning as I went. Eventually, I spent several years in the hospitality industry.

Final Thoughts: Know Thyself and Thou Shall Know Thy God

Along the way, I made friends and learned that everyone is unique; no one is perfect; certainly not people with the “pointy fingers.” Nevertheless, I noticed that most people focus on four basic needs: food, money, power, and sex—but not necessarily in that order. Whereas for me it has always been like Freddy Mercury sang that “crazy little thing called LOVE.“ But when we go through abuse, neglect, and trauma and don’t find love, we settle for mediocrity or less. Trauma comes in many forms, but it’s our choice whether to continue the cycle of family karma or to break it. The buck stops with you.

Whichever way it goes, childhood trauma makes you do the thing you’ve been “conditioned” to do all your life. I understand how challenging it can be to navigate through trauma, and I want to share what has helped me along the way: love, friendships, books, music, and spirituality. Healing is not a straight path, and I certainly don’t consider myself an expert. I’ve experienced the many faces of depression, including a recent episode of panic and anxiety, which I know can feel overwhelming. If you’re struggling, please remember that you don’t have to go through it alone. Reach out to your loved ones and consider seeking therapy. It’s so important to take that step and not delay getting the support you need. If you are like me, you deserve to find peace and healing.

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Guest Post Disclaimer: Any and all information shared in this guest blog post is intended for educational and informational purposes only. Nothing in this blog post, nor any content on CPTSDfoundation.org, is a supplement for or supersedes the relationship and direction of your medical or mental health providers. Thoughts, ideas, or opinions expressed by the writer of this guest blog post do not necessarily reflect those of CPTSD Foundation. For more information, see our Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer.

Jenney Clark

Jenney Clark is an Indian author and poet, best known for her book “Don’t Be Afraid to Love.” She has published eight books, including “Magic of the Ancients,” and hosts a podcast titled “Awakened Souls.” After leaving a successful job in the service industry, she pursued her passion for writing and became a life coach. Raised in a small town in India she discovered her psychic abilities at a young age and developed a strong interest in Tarot, astrology and numerology. She enjoys connecting with a diverse range of friends, including artists and writers and lives in a cozy “cubby hole” in Hyderabad with her dog, along with her beloved books and music

jenneyclark.com/

But what happens when one parent is a narcissist who is adept at gaslighting and manipulation? This article will focus on parental alienation and narcissism.

Parental Alienation

As you may remember from my last post, parental alienation is doing or saying things by one parent to their children against the other, damaging their relationship with the alienated parent.

The damaging parent might cause their children to fear, reject, or even hate the targeted parent as they are painted a picture that is ugly and full of lies.

There are many ways to manipulate children into despising their other parent, including isolating them away from the victim parent, undermining the other parent’s authority, asking their children for information that is negative against the other parent, and emotionally manipulating the children. By far, the most damaging thing done to children is to deny the targeted parent access to them.

Often, the offending parent displays narcissism while pitting the children and their other parent against each other to control and manipulate all involved.

Narcissists and Their Behavior in Divorce

The words narcissist and narcissism are improperly used in our society today to describe someone who doesn’t want to go along with plans or to classify someone in other ultimately silly ways. However, narcissism is nothing to laugh about as it is a severe condition where the narcissist manipulates and bullies people to do what they want.

Another way to describe narcissism is that it is extreme self-involvement by a person to a degree that makes them ignore the needs of those around them. Narcissists understand their behavior but refuse to change.

Narcissism is a trait, but sometimes, it is included as part of a more considerable personality disorder called narcissistic personality disorder on a spectrum. There are some common traits of narcissists, including the following.

A sense of entitlement. Narcissists believe that they are superior to others and deserve special treatment. They also think others should obey their wishes and that the general rules of society don’t apply to them.

When a narcissist faces a divorce, they feel they no longer have control over their ex-spouse, so they exert pressure on them by using the children as weapons, attempting to convince them their other parent is bad.

Manipulating. Narcissists use manipulation and controlling behavior. They draw in their victims by first trying to please and impress you, but soon, their needs will come first. Narcissists try to keep their victims close to maintain control, and they will exploit others to gain something they want.

Divorce means that their ex-spouse has escaped their manipulative grasp, and they think they should be punished. To exert control over their ex, narcissists will use their children as pawns to frustrate and harm them. Narcissists are supreme manipulators and will not stop alienating the other parent, tearing their children apart.

Lack of empathy for others. Narcissists are unwilling or unable to empathize with other people, choosing instead to ignore their wants, needs, and feelings. Their lack of empathy makes narcissists not take responsibility for their actions.

Children of narcissists, especially in a divorce situation, find the controlling parent using them to get back at the other parent and ignoring the fact that their children need love and understanding during such a tough time.

Narcissists believe they are wholly justified in destroying their ex and their children and do not take responsibility for their behaviors.

Tools Narcissistic Parents Use

Unfortunately for children, having a narcissistic parent in a divorce situation harms them and is a form of child abuse. The offending narcissistic parent may utilize a variety of tools to harm their ex using their children.

Triangulation is a standard manipulative tool that occurs when the offending parent vents to the children, causing them to bear the weight of the conflict, and sometimes uses the children to spy on the other parent. Being constantly told nasty things about the other parent and spying on them sets the children up for abandonment and attachment problems.

Another tool a narcissistic parent may employ includes gaslighting, where the offending parent distorts and denies reality while also making the children feel the need to defend the other parent. When the children do try to defend the other parent, the narcissistic parent will manipulate them back into their fold. The conflict the children feel is overwhelming.

There are as many tools that a narcissistic parent will use as there are children whose growth is stunted by their behavior.

Ending Our Time Together

To recap, narcissistic parental alienation happens when a parent with narcissistic traits maliciously alienates their children from their other parent. The offending parent accomplishes parental alienation by attacking the other parent’s character in front of their children.

Unfortunately, the vicious behavior by the narcissistic parent often leads to the children disliking and rejecting the other parent who is innocent of the things the offending parent said.

The available evidence suggests that parental alienation occurs in very tense separations and divorces, particularly if there is a bitter child custody battle. Unfortunately for the children, the offending parent uses cruel and callous words and behaviors, harming not only their intended target, the other parent but also the children.

Clearly, children who are raised where there is parental alienation often form mental health problems such as depression, anxiety disorders, and other serious conditions. Their physical health may also be affected as they may turn to food for comfort and gain significant amounts of weight, or conversely, refuse to eat and become anorexic. These conditions are only the tip of the iceberg for the number of physical and mental problems children in this situation face.

No matter how the situation unfolds, parental alienation is a severe and illegal form of child abuse that significantly harms the children involved.

Pride

CPTSD Foundation wishes to invite you to our Pride Program, which is offered weekly on Circle. In Pride, we discuss important topics related to complex trauma and how it has affected our lives. The program is led by a fantastic person who understands the issues facing the LGBTQIA+ community.

Come as you are, take what you like, and leave the rest.

The program is offered every Thursday at 7 pm Eastern time through the Circle app. If you are interested, you can find information here. If you are interested, don’t hesitate to contact the support team of CPTSD Foundation and sign up.

We look forward to seeing you there.

Trauma-Informed Partner Support

Since CPTSD Foundation began, we’ve understood the critical role that supportive partners play in the life of a trauma survivor. Spouses, partners, caregivers, siblings, and anyone who is directly involved in the daily life of an adult survivor of complex trauma.

This program provides that safe place of encouragement, support, information, and validation that supportive partners and helpers need. You are safe here, among others who understand the challenges of helping a survivor navigate daily life.

Learn more about this unique program that focuses on encouraging and equipping you, the supportive partner, as you help care for the survivor in your life and yourself.

Shirley Davis

My name is Shirley Davis and I am a freelance writer with over 40-years- experience writing short stories and poetry. Living as I do among the corn and bean fields of Illinois (USA), working from home using the Internet has become the best way to communicate with the world. My interests are wide and varied. I love any kind of science and read several research papers per week to satisfy my curiosity. I have earned an Associate Degree in Psychology and enjoy writing books on the subjects that most interest me.

www.learnaboutdid.com

At the beginning of  July, I received a package: copies of my book and promotional material.  I danced around my flat, my heart racing with excitement and butterflies in my stomach. I met a dear friend and we celebrated. As the week went on, I started to be overwhelmed by a sense of doom, futility, and fear. Hello, old friends.

I had it all planned, in my head and I had already approached my local bookshop for a possible book launch there. All week, it seemed impossible to get the ball rolling on that. I felt a sense of urgency. The panic to get things done and quickly. I didn’t want to miss out on any opportunity. I needed to accomplish things so as not to become a failure. I felt as if I’d done something terribly wrong or that something terribly wrong was just around the corner, in the shape of my cruel mother, mocking me, and punishing me for not succeeding at anything, before I even started anything. I was experiencing strong emotional flashbacks, from distraught inner parts.

For a few days, I kept a copy of my book, by my side. ” I created this! ME!” It seemed unreal. I slowly shared to great news with my closest and dearest. I received a lot of congratulatory texts and voice messages; “Wow, you are amazing.” or “Well done!” I wasn’t able to fully welcome those sweet words. I felt so anxious, I experienced stomach and chest pains for a few days. I felt low. It was quite similar to what I described in my previous article “The Pleasures of Life” But, this time, even more intense. A part of me was rejecting the praises. “All they see is the result but, they don’t know how I truly feel.”   Some might think of the book as a TOTAL victory over my past, but it isn’t.

Because it has been a while since I felt overwhelmed by emotional flashbacks, it reminded me, that, although I have been going through deep emotional and spiritual healing for the last few months, I carry parts of me that are afraid, terribly afraid. There are things I carry that might never go away. I still have days when I need to rest. The world outside is full of love and joy, yes, but, at the moment the darkness seems to take more space. I hate going out in busy places, using public transport is very stressful. I need my routine, to keep calm. 

So I eased myself into this by slowly reaching out to a wider audience on Social Media. “Here is The Blossoming Lotus” I reached out to my friends who, as always, understood my emotional experience. I meditated and used the New Moon’s energy to sever all cords still shakling me to my mother. (The new moon is always a great time to release and invite something new.) I saw Mother in her own bubble of light and me, in my own. I saw her floating away… away and disappearing. I then welcomed the energy and the Love of the Divine Mother. It occurred to me, I no longer needed my “human mother” who brought me so much pain, it nearly killed me a few times. All the Love I need is here and now, within me all around me.

” After years of feeling heartbroken and orphaned, I feel now I can leave the past in the past – more than ever before anyway.”

I went away for a few days. It was a welcomed break. It was still an emotional time, being back in France in an area I avoided for decades, meeting a half-brother and his family. I even met a long-lost half-sister. I never had a father but I have found a loving and caring family. After years of feeling heartbroken and orphaned, I feel now I can leave the past in the past – more than ever before anyway. I have experienced acceptance and the freedom to be myself as I have never experienced with family.

One evening, after my mini break, before sleeping and focusing on the Divine Mother, I felt Her cuddling me, soothing me as I saw “Baby Sylvie”, this new-born inner part who was never wanted nor loved. I felt this inner baby feeling loved, comforted, and soothed for the 1st time. As the days passed, I had a strong inner knowing I was no longer in a space filled with and ruled by abuse, neglect, and emotional pounding reducing me to a miniature size. I now occupy a bigger energy space, filled with Love, Compassion, joy, and goodness that I readily share, first of all, with my daughter and friends and, then with the wider world.

“Of course, we need to celebrate achievements and lives, but space is also needed for tender loving care and support, through emotions, even if they seem contradictory to the joyful events occurring in the present time.”

We live in a society that solely focuses on external results and success. People hear of victims and survivors of child abuse stories and it makes great movies, books, great TED Talks. Of course, it gives hope and inspiration. We certainly NEED hope and inspiration. However, It seems to be so easy to forget someone’s pain and challenges: “Oh, look, She has a job/ opened an exhibit (…) , she is fine!” or “Wow, he has been through so much, it is amazing!” Of course, we need to celebrate achievements and lives, but space is also needed for tender loving care and support, through emotions, even if they seem contradictory to the joyful events occurring in the present time.

Let’s celebrate our achievement, yes, but, let’s not forget that, for some victims and survivors of child abuse, “victories” might be a time of confusion and stress. All the love and all the praises, from the Universe/ the Divine Mother (or God/ Goddess) and from people around me, can be very overwhelming to some of my inner parts. This recent energic shift I experienced, and now occupy, is new territory so, of course, it is going to feel uncomfortable. During difficult times and even during times of celebration, I now know I need to take gentle care of myself and ease into things.

I believe we are all beings of light, living a complex human life, in a complex human world. Gently does it.

Sylvie

You can also read: “Child Sexual Abuse: when healing is painful” on Winter Turns into Spring.

Guest Post Disclaimer: Any and all information shared in this guest blog post is intended for educational and informational purposes only. Nothing in this blog post, nor any content on CPTSDfoundation.org, is a supplement for or supersedes the relationship and direction of your medical or mental health providers. Thoughts, ideas, or opinions expressed by the writer of this guest blog post do not necessarily reflect those of CPTSD Foundation. For more information, see our Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer.

Sylvie Rouhani

Writer – Blogger – Poet – Mental Health and Child Abuse Activist

Deputy Editor and Journalist for Taxpayers Against Poverty

Author of The Blossoming Lotus”

https://www.austinmacauley.com/book/blossoming-lotus

New Website: Breaking The Cycles

https://breakingthecycles.co.uk/

breakingthecycles.co.uk

I am not rejecting all of you amazing people, I am rejecting the honey that has brought all of us bees together. Honestly, how many of you truly want to be in this club? Like ALL of you, one of my favourite phrases (usually followed by some very inventive swear words) is, “I’m sick of this shit”.

Opening Pandaora’s Box

The best and the worst of the CPTSD journey is near the beginning when the land of CPTSD Oz has been revealed and you’re both fascinated, relieved, and revolted. The dream of a better life just became real, but you can’t unsee flying monkeys and you can’t unsee CPTSD. I have heard so many of us on this site talk about “opening Pandora’s box” and wanting to slam it shut, but it was too late. That is certainly how I felt.

Suddenly, CPTSD was coming at me from all directions. I couldn’t turn a corner or have a conversation with someone without a flashback, brain fart, or emotional aha moment. CPTSD stalked me all my life in the shadows. I always knew something was there and it terrified me, but I could never fully see it or put a name to it.  However, once I fully saw it and named it, it no longer stalked me—instead it moved in, took over my closet, put its feet on the coffee table, and asked what I was making for supper. Every. Damn. Day.

I had transformed into “Super-CPTSD” who could leap tall flashbacks in a single meltdown and could disassociate faster than any memory could catch me.

I could not get away from it, even for a moment. So, I decided that I was going to be the best CPTSD buster that ever lived. I was going to “get over it” and jumped into the books, podcasts, therapy, and support groups. I had transformed into “Super-CPTSD” who could leap tall flashbacks in a single meltdown and could disassociate faster than any memory could catch me.

This phase lasted for about two weeks from my initial “OMG” moment. Then, a particularly nasty flashback that put me on my butt and into my bed for a couple of days brought me back to reality. This was not another achievement or notch on my life belt. None of my previous tactics or tools were going to defeat this sucker.  While all my previous emotional work and healing had prepared me for the battle, I needed more.

This is the point in most self-help articles where I should be giving you the magic recipe to defeat that emotional monster in three easy steps and start a new and improved life. But, if you’re like me and someone tries to tell me I can do something in three easy steps, I want to slap them with the book they’re recommending.

There is no easy fix. We have all tried that whether it be denial, addiction, or the other myriad of quick fixes we attempt to get through this as quickly and painlessly as possible. But, there is a fix and it is actually quite simple. We need to feel the pain and as Brene Brown says, lean into it. I know you’re thinking, “What? Are you insane? I’m trying to NOT feel the pain anymore!” Well, that’s the conundrum of healing from trauma: to no longer feel pain, you need to feel the pain. But this time, you will be able to access your adult self and a solid system of support to reach in and truly heal that pain, so it is the last time you feel it to this degree.

Yes, the pain will end. Soon enough, you will find yourself in a new club, and this one you will definitely want to join—the CPTSD Healed Club. In this club, meetings aren’t so regular because you don’t really need them. They are fun though and filled with lots of smiles and knowing nods as we reminisce about how deep our pain used to be. Membership is open and we are always actively recruiting because we want everyone to join our club. If you are reading this, it shows that you are already on the right path to joining this club. Welcome!

Guest Post Disclaimer: Any and all information shared in this guest blog post is intended for educational and informational purposes only. Nothing in this blog post, nor any content on CPTSDfoundation.org, is a supplement for or supersedes the relationship and direction of your medical or mental health providers. Thoughts, ideas, or opinions expressed by the writer of this guest blog post do not necessarily reflect those of CPTSD Foundation. For more information, see our Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer.

Belinda Pyle

Belinda lives on beautiful Vancouver Island where she fills her need for nature with hiking, horses, ocean, and any furry critters she can find. She is completing her post-grad certificate in Addictions and Mental Health Counselling and looks forward to helping others as she has been helped. As a third-generation survivor of trauma, she comes from a long line of crazy but strong women who have somehow succeeded in making lives that don’t completely suck.

When you look at patterns within dysfunctional family systems, without fail, you will find the hallmark of a false narrative. The engine of the family system runs on untruths, half-truths, and constructed reality. And it doesn’t start where your story begins. It starts with the stories of your parents. 

Abuse flourishes in the fertile soil of past abuse

My parents grew up in similar systems to mine and in many cases, even worse. My parents had the inability to be emotionally available. That may be the understatement of the year. They were totally checked out, unable to meet even the most basic emotional needs of each other or of their children. Even friendships were affected. It screwed up every single relationship in their lives. 

They did not know how to express love or encouragement. They did not see their children as separate people with opinions, talents and hopes and dreams. My parents acted out of what they knew. Lest you think this is an excuse for the behaviors they CHOSE, let me absolve you of that notion. I am simply looking at the pattern of a false narrative that grows from the seeds of abuse.  

My father was the third child in a huge family of twelve. Born at an awkward time in history, he was too young to serve in World War II and too old to be a part of the cataclysmic changes of the 1960s. This small slice of Americans born in the years after the depression, but before the war, were known as the silent generation. That is an apt description. My father was full of simmering, silent rage. It was the way he dealt with problems. A small conflict would turn into a slow boil.

My mother was usually the one who turned up the heat by dropping sharp comments here and there. Things would escalate into a blistering argument as her comments turned into a steady stream of emotional and verbal harassment. Finally, my father would explode—effectively shutting down any and all opposition. Both parties would retreat to their corners and silence would reign supreme. My brother and I hid during these painful engagements. We knew that after a few days, the silence would dissipate and the usual routine continues, at least until the next round. In my house, any expression of emotion was dangerous. We learned that lesson very early, but my father learned it first from his own family of origin.

I held the pinwheel up and watched as the breeze spun its wondrous colors so fast they turned into a blur. The whirring sound was comforting. I tried to offer it to my brother, but he just shook his head. 

“That’s all right. You keep it.” I sighed and continued to watch as the pinwheel spun on its tiny axle.

When we arrived at our grandparents, the cousins ran out to greet us. There was a gaggle of five that were all about the same age. We were the children of the oldest siblings and spent many hours together. My grandmother had made a big pot of vegetable soup and we all trooped into the house together. 

My father and his brothers started joking the second we arrived. “Y’all remember how many chiggers we used to get growing up?” (Chiggers are similar to ticks.)

“Man,” said Uncle Devon. “We were covered with those things.” 

I had never seen a chigger but often heard my father talk about them. I had heard him talk about a lot of things. As he related the stories of his childhood over the years, he saw himself as Tom Sawyer enjoying exciting adventures. Much later, I realized they were stories of abuse. 

How my father could continue relationships with his family as if all the abuse were just a normal part of growing up is beyond me. People accepted things that should not have been accepted and created a false narrative in order to live with it. 

“We got boils from all the nastiness of our house,” my father said. “I used to get them on my neck and had to have them cut open.” My father actually laughed when he told me this. “By the time I was ten years old, I was on my own so I got odd jobs around town and bought all my own clothes and anything else I needed. I only came home to sleep. I made sure I was gone early in the morning.” These were stories of my father’s “independence” and proof of how special and amazing he was.

Then, there was the violence. “Daddy had a gun he would shoot in the air whenever we got on his nerves. It didn’t take much to set him off. Sometimes, he would knock you out just for coming into the room. By the time we were teenagers, we spent most of the spring and summer sleeping out in the woods. When it was really hot, we slept on the roof.”

The chaos, emotional detachment, and violence of his home encouraged more abuse from the older siblings. “As kids, we used to walk across a train trestle daring each other to make it before the train appeared. (You would be killed if a train came. The trestle was hundreds of feet high.) Jeremy, hung me over the side by my feet one time. I was sure he was going to kill me.” He told this story with hilarity, but underneath, I could feel his rage. He and Jeremy had never gotten along.

My brother and I laughed right along with the rest of the family. Looking back, the whole thing sounds like a Dickens novel, but at the time, these stories were told as acts of bravery and derring-do. 

In addition to all this, my father was born with profound physical disabilities. Born at home, in a time before antibiotics, he developed an eye infection that took his sight in one eye. He was also born with a hernia which his parents never bothered to fix. As a child, he was forced to wear a truss to keep the damage from spreading. He lived his entire childhood like that until in college, he paid for the hernia operation himself. 

My Grandmother was a carrier for a neuro-muscular disease called Charco-Marie-Toothe syndrome. It causes muscle weakness, atrophy, and chronic pain. I also have the disease, so I know from personal experience how difficult it is to deal with. He told me as kids, his father forced him and his brothers to stand at the end of a giant band saw and catch lumber as it flew off the belt. Besides being life-threateningly dangerous, just thinking about this poor, skinny, disabled kid being made to stand for hours catching heavy lumber makes me want to sob. It was insanity.

Despite all this, we made the trek to go see my grandparents on a regular basis. No one ever brought up the past except to laugh or brag about it. My grandparent’s marriage was the classic example of an extremely narcissistic and violent man married to a passive enabler. Emotional depth and empathy did not exist in my father’s family. They would have been a liability to survival.

The most astounding thing was the false narrative that grew up around it. Nobody called my Grandfather out for his abuse. In fact, no one ever told the truth about anything. It is no wonder the family my father created would be filled with so much sorrow. He got it honest— as they say in the south.

This brings me to the present. My father’s life is a classic example of childhood with such deprivation and violence, it created deep and lasting scars that turned into narcissistic wounds. By the time he got to me, there was no reaching him. His true personality, sense of humor, and curiosity about life were lost. His many talents and great business sense only fed the anger of the lost little boy inside. I knew all these things about my father and at times, I experienced his good qualities. But none of that made any difference in his abuse of me. In fact, my own empathy was used against me.

I could not reach that broken little child inside him and I shouldn’t have tried. He had made a choice to rule the world like a god and he was going to have it that way come hell or high water. He was going to have it that way, even if it destroyed the people he wanted to love the most. 

My father created a false narrative about himself, the world, and about our family. He created a false narrative about me and it followed me almost my entire life. I was deathly afraid of him; afraid to believe I had any worth, afraid to try, afraid to live. I was trash. He told me so. He treated me that way. These false beliefs run deep and must be faced as a part of the healing process. The child inside me longs to be loved and will do almost anything to have a relationship with a parent. Even to the point of putting up with abuse and believing a pack of lies. 

I want to caution anyone who has had to deal with a narcissistic parent or a narcissist of any kind. While narcissism exists on a spectrum, if you have felt the confusion, despair, and frustration of trying to deal with such a person, you understand what I’m talking about.

No matter how much you love them, no matter how much you would do anything to get them to understand—YOU ARE POWERLESS TO CHANGE THEM.

You are playing with fire if you continue to try. It will destroy you. The narcissist will sit at your funeral and say, “I have no idea why Rebekah was so depressed. Isn’t it a shame she was just like her mother?” And my father would believe every word to the depth of his soul.

People make choices in life. The greatest gift you can give a loved one is to honor the choices they have made and move on with your own life. When you accept narcissists for who they are and begin to build a life apart from them, you will know you are making the steps you need to heal.

To defy trauma is to see the truth. To embrace joy is to live it out.

Guest Post Disclaimer: Any and all information shared in this guest blog post is intended for educational and informational purposes only. Nothing in this blog post, nor any content on CPTSDfoundation.org, is a supplement for or supersedes the relationship and direction of your medical or mental health providers. Thoughts, ideas, or opinions expressed by the writer of this guest blog post do not necessarily reflect those of CPTSD Foundation. For more information, see our Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer.

Rebekah Brown

Rebekah Brown, a native of the south, now resides in the Great American West. Surviving a complicated and abusive family system makes her unique writing style insightful as well as uplifting. Rebekah is the proud mother of two and grandmother of four.

Guest Post Disclaimer: Any and all information shared in this guest blog post is intended for educational and informational purposes only. Nothing in this blog post, nor any content on CPTSDfoundation.org, is a supplement for or supersedes the relationship and direction of your medical or mental health providers. Thoughts, ideas, or opinions expressed by the writer of this guest blog post do not necessarily reflect those of CPTSD Foundation. For more information, see our Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer.

Shigeko Ito

Shigeko Ito grew up in Japan and immigrated to the United States to pursue higher education. She studied early childhood education, earning a PhD in Education from Stanford University. Drawing on cross-cultural experiences and academic expertise, she explores themes of trauma, resilience, and healing, with a particular focus on childhood emotional neglect. Her work has appeared on the CPTSD Foundation blog and the Anxiety and Depression Association of America website. In 2025, she was named a semifinalist in the nonfiction category of the Tucson Festival of Books Literary Awards. She worked in Montessori preschools for many years and lives in Seattle with her husband of thirty years and beloved animals.

shigekoito.com

The following article will discuss the sexual abuse of children by women. Viewer discretion is advised.

For far too long, society has avoided discussing women who abuse children. Society has brushed under the rug that women can do such things to kids while focusing on males who perpetrate the same crimes.

This article will focus on female sexual predators of children and how their behaviors change the lives of their victims forever.

Female Sexual Predation Has Been Overlooked

Unfortunately, law enforcement and society as a whole have been reticent to discuss female predation. The research done to help explain female predation and how it affects children is thin because it is such a taboo subject.

Researchers Freund, Heasman, Racansky, and Glancy declared that “pedophilia…does not exist at all in women” (1984, p. 193), showing how society is unwilling to acknowledge that women can be sexual predators.

In a paper published in the Journal of Sexual Abuse written in 2015, there is an attempt to broach this highly triggering subject by gathering research from other researchers on child sexual predation. The researchers wanted to identify the differences between male and female predators and why women predators go undetected.

The researchers found that the lack of recognition by society has allowed female predators to remain, for the most part, undetected and avoid prosecution and interventions mandated for male sexual predators.

Freund et al. also stated: “This difference in treatment between male and female perpetrators could be partially due to differences that exist in their offending behaviors, victim profiles, and personal characteristics that set them apart from male offenders, to whom our systems have become more attuned.”

When the researchers studied the data from Child Protective Services in the U.S., they found that slightly over 20% of substantiated child sexual abuse reported to authorities involved only a female perpetrator. That is one out of every five.

The stats are grim. Sixty-eight percent of female predators chose to abuse their daughters over other females, with 77.8 % showing that they prefer their children. The research finally found that biological mothers are four and a half times more likely to abuse their own children.

Male Victims of Sexual Abuse by Women

Although women predators show a preference for female victims, they also abuse little boys causing great harm to the child that lasts for a lifetime. The shame, guilt, and confusion are apparent in their lifestyle and relationships as adults.

At least 1 in 6 boys are sexually abused before their 18^th birthday, and this number increases to 1 in 4 for men who experience unwanted sexual events across their lifespan. Often, men never tell anyone about what happened to them and take their secrets to their graves.

Yes, some male children are abused by men, but the majority are sexually assaulted by female predators, often their own mothers.

Men who experience child predation often develop far-reaching psychological symptoms but are not easily diagnosed. Some abused men often carry a deep seething rage that never leaves them, making them feel threatened or betrayed. These men may also have problems with a low sex drive and erectile problems that affect their self-esteem and sense of manhood.

Often, men who have been victims of female predation have concerns about their masculinity and sexual orientation as they struggle with intense shame and self-blame.

It is difficult for men to acknowledge their feelings and disclose what happened to them, even to a qualified specialist, because of their thoughts that men should be strong.

What Do Women Who Abuse Children Look Like?

Women who sexually abuse children do not look like the monsters they are. They can be a mother, aunt, older sister, or female neighbor across the street. The majority of perpetrators of sexual abuse against children are someone the child or family knows, with 93% of victims knowing their abuser.

It is critical to remember that a perpetrator does not need to be an adult as children your child plays with, and that child’s female family members or a teacher, coach, etc., also sexually abuse children.

Female abusers, like their male counterparts, use manipulation of their victims to get them to remain silent about what they are doing to them. Child molesters use their position of power to coerce the child into sexual acts. Sometimes they use a favorite activity of the child to get them alone, or they might threaten to kill a parent or a pet.

Sexual orientation has absolutely nothing to do with female predation on children. A child’s vulnerability and access to predators are what make them victims. A paper written by Jenny, Roesler & Poyer found the following:

“The children in the group studied were unlikely to have been molested by identifiably gay or lesbian people.” The findings showed that although gay and lesbian people may abuse children, it is more unlikely than among heterosexual women.

Sexual abuse of children has nothing to do with sex; it is an act of violence.

The Long-Term Effects of Childhood Sexual Abuse On Survivors

Adults who have experienced child sexual trauma grow up with many emotional problems and relationship difficulties. Below I’ve outlined only a few of the effects adults experience directly due to early childhood sexual trauma.

Self-Esteem issues. The survivor may feel a sense of hopelessness, helplessness, and like they don’t belong in the world. They may have a deep sense that their birth was a mistake and they should die. They may see themselves as unworthy of any good things, and either they will isolate themselves from others or feel so needy they will be in one relationship after another.

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. This disorder cannot be pushed under the rug as unimportant. People who live with its effects can tell you it is misery. The things done to survivors when they are children CANNOT and WILL NOT be forgotten by them when they are adults. Perhaps they may have suppressed the memories of the molestation, but somewhere in their brain burned, the details of the emotions and feelings they felt while the perpetrator was harming them. These memories surface in nightmares, flashbacks, and dissociation.

Depression. People who have been sexually molested as children are four times more likely to be diagnosed with major depression. Depression is no joke; it cannot be cured by forcing themselves to get better. It is a severe and potentially deadly problem. The internal conflicts brought on by guilt and rage about their being sexually used by someone who was supposed to be their caregiver are enormous. If not treated, many will die by suicide.

Dissociative Disorders. These disorders include depersonalization, derealization, and dissociative identity disorder at the far extreme of the spectrum. Living with a dissociative disorder is horrific. Many lose time, don’t remember important events, and have a severely altered sense of identity.

Problems in relationships. Both men and women who women perpetrators abused suffer from isolation. Yes, they may have been married once or a dozen times, but because they lack the skills to relate to their partners, these relationships do not last. They sometimes prefer to be alone instead of with others because they feel safer alone.

Anxiety Disorders. Because sexual abuse is threatening and disruptive, children often develop a sense of insecurity and don’t believe the world is a safe place. This belief system expresses itself in adulthood as anxiety. One is hyper-alert and afraid of things that others don’t notice. This anxiety can manifest itself as panic attacks in adulthood. These overwhelming attacks make the person feel like they are going to die or that they have lost their mind.

Anger issues. Children whose female caregivers have molested them may be left with severe anger issues in adulthood. Although the person who harmed them may no longer be alive, the anger persists and can spill into the survivor’s home and work life.

Ending Our Time Together

This piece is personal to me as I was the victim of two women in my family. My abuse didn’t hurt, so I was left confused when the mother of my best friend when I was six caught me acting out on her daughter.

Women who abuse children were probably abused themselves, but that is an explanation, not an excuse. These women deserve the same punishment as men who lure children into a sexual relationship that the child does not want and cannot understand.

Do not despair if you were the sexual victim of a woman. The best way to handle the shame and guilt you may feel is to seek professional help. A therapist can help you come to terms with the fact that your female relative or friend used you.

I have been through several years of therapy and have put my memories of what happened to me to rest. No, I have not forgotten, but I have accepted that I cannot change my past and that I am okay.

You can too.

References 

Bourke, A., Doherty, S., McBride, O., Morgan, K., & McGee, H. (2014). Female perpetrators of child sexual abuse: characteristics of the offender and victim. Psychology, crime & law, 20(8), 769-780.

Deering, R., & Mellor, D. (2011). An exploratory qualitative study of the self-reported impact of female-perpetrated childhood sexual abuse. Journal of child sexual abuse, 20(1), 58-76.

Jenny, C., Roesler, T. A., & Poyer, K. L. (1994). Are children at risk for sexual abuse by homosexuals? Pediatrics, 94(1), 41-44.

McLeod, D. A. (2015). Female offenders in child sexual abuse cases: A national picture. Journal of child sexual abuse, 24(1), 97-114.

Robinson, S. (1998). From victim to offender: Female offenders of child sexual abuse. European Journal on Criminal Policy and Research, 6, 59-73.

Shirley Davis

My name is Shirley Davis and I am a freelance writer with over 40-years- experience writing short stories and poetry. Living as I do among the corn and bean fields of Illinois (USA), working from home using the Internet has become the best way to communicate with the world. My interests are wide and varied. I love any kind of science and read several research papers per week to satisfy my curiosity. I have earned an Associate Degree in Psychology and enjoy writing books on the subjects that most interest me.

www.learnaboutdid.com