Abuse or Experimentation?

It had been years since they had spent time together, and the weekend was nearly over. The twins and their spouses sat by the fireplace in the rustic cabin, sipped coffee, and reminisced of years gone by. Childhood tales flowed with ease regarding the siblings’ near misses and alliances made—stories their parents didn’t know then and don’t know now.

“It feels so good to laugh,” Meagan said soothing her stomach muscles with her hand.

Michael grinned, “Memories, gotta love’em and boy did we make some good ones, Sis.”

“We sure did,” she said.

Meagan’s husband stood, stretched, and yawned. “Well folks, I’m going to call it a night. We’ve got a long drive tomorrow. Back to work. Back to reality.”  He leaned in and gave Meagan a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I’m heading to bed too,” said Michael’s wife as she gathered the coffee cups. “The kiddos are going to be wound-up after spending the weekend with my parents. And besides, at forty, I need all the beauty-sleep I can get.”

“You don’t need any beauty sleep for me,” said Michael giving a quick wink. “I’ll be joining you in a few.”

The siblings sat alone, their faces illuminated by the glow of the fire, both lost in thought as they stared into the flames. They had spoken so many words, yet for Meagan there were more words she needed to say. Yet, she didn’t know how to say them. What if he doesn’t remember? I hate to ruin the weekend. It’s been great. But I have too. A spark from the fire snapped.

“Michael,” she said, eyes still focused on the flames. “Do you remember when we were young and—”

“I do,” he said, never taking his eyes off the fire.

“That was really stupid," she said. "Wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, it was. I don’t know what we we’re thinking. I guess we were just two kids, two curious kids.”

“Yeah, curious and ignorant,” said Meagan. “It’s not like we had a clue what we were doing. I mean, Mom and Dad never talked to us about anything.”

“No, they certainly didn’t.” Michael looked at Meagan. “I’m sorry, Sis.”

“Thanks,” Meagan said, turning toward Michael, her eyes glistening in the firelight. “I’m sorry, too.”

  

Sibling sexual experimentation is not considered sexual abuse when the siblings are near the same age and there is no power play or coercion involved. It happens sometimes. And it’s nobody’s fault.

Waffles with a Side of Spaghetti

“What are you thinking about?” he said looking longingly into her eyes, brushing the hair back from her face, causing it to spill onto the pillow.

She hesitated. Her eyes darted toward the ceiling. “How much I love you,” she said.

                                                                                  *****

She lied. She does love him, but that wasn’t what she was thinking about. What she was really thinking was: Did I put the wash in the dryer? Crap! I forgot to let Fido out to pee. Bet he’s going to pee on the rug again. What on earth am I going to put in the kids’ lunches tomorrow morning? Should have gone grocery shopping instead of meeting Chris for lunch. Peanut butter and banana sandwiches. Yeah, that should work. I really should throw out that rug. Do we have bananas?

I’ve read that guys’ brains are like waffles. They compartmentalize. They can think in only one box at a time. I’ve also read that women’s brains are like spaghetti. They multitask. They can be thinking about laundry, pee, peanut butter, rugs, and bananas all at once. This has been my life experience and so I agree, as does my husband. We understand and accept that we are different. I don’t have to lie. He knows if he asks, “What are you thinking,” and my answer is, “Bananas, laundry, and pee,” it’s no reflection on him or his abilities as a lover. It’s our “normal.”

Last week I posed a question that my survivor friends and I discussed recently: Could some of the struggles, expectations, longings, and frustrations survivors feel in the bedroom be “normal?” I can’t answer that question. The answer would be as individual and as varied as each survivor and their story. I can only tell you what I know to be “normal” for me and what I’ve learned about men and woman. And I can pray that from what I’ve shared, that maybe, just maybe, a survivor who reads my words won’t chastise herself or wonder if she’s “normal” the next time her mind strays during love making. It may be her “normal.”


Living with the secret of sexual abuse is a lonely road. Healing from sexual abuse is a long journey, but it doesn’t need to be lonely.

Still Seeking Normal – Encouragement for Survivors

“I think it’s where we feel most alone,” she said. “You should write about it.”

I agreed with my survivor friend.  I know, I should write about it. Most survivors that I’ve had the honor of calling “friend” have discussed this issue with me. It’s a topic that I’m comfortable discussing in living color, but to write about it . . . in black and white and put it on the web? I’m struggling here. But this I know, there is a need. And no one should ever feel alone.

The area my friend has encouraged me to write about is sex. The area where she believes married survivors feel most alone is in the bedroom.

As I mentioned in my last post, I met with a group of survivors recently and we discussed “normal.” The main topic of the evening was “What’s normal in the bedroom?”

“I feel this way after sex sometimes,” one said.

“I feel that way,” said another.

“I check out at times. Do you guys?” one asked.

“I do. I made my grocery list once,” I said. “And I’m not a survivor.”

That got our attention. And our discussion led to these questions:  Could some of the struggles, expectations, longings, and frustrations survivors feel in the bedroom be “normal?”  Is it possible with the myriad of lies sexual abuse creates, perhaps the lies that are most perverse are the ones that turn “normal” into shameful?

We weren’t able to answer our questions in one meeting. The conversation will continue. Please consider joining us. You can ask your questions or make comments anonymously in the comment box or contact me directly at tamarsredemption@verizon.net. Let’s seek “normal” together.