Four years ago, I received the phone call that stole my breath. It was a call that I had agonized over for years prior, from the time I learned I may one day receive it. This call informed me that my abuser had filed a petition to be removed from the sex offender registry. I wrote about receiving this call back in 2018- you can read that post here. In that post, I asked for friends to pray that I would have peace with any decision rendered in court. Though I knew the judge could rule in my abuser’s favor, I truly could not imagine a world in which my abuser would be deemed “not a threat” to the public.
You can read more here and here about the judge’s decision and what the court experience was like as I delivered a victim impact statement and fought with all I had to protect others from future abuse by my abuser. It is still hard to always feel at peace with the judge’s decision. Often, I do not feel like it was the right one. I have questions that were not answered, and likely will not be answered for my case. But, these questions and the feelings of injustice motivate me to keep fighting and advocating so others might have a different fate.
In June, I served as a juror on a criminal trial. It challenged me to evaluate my views on a side of the judicial system I had yet to see so close up. Part of my journey has included seasons of questioning whether at 15 years old I made the correct decision in accepting a plea deal instead of going to trial. At 15, it was clear to me that going to trial did not guarantee a conviction and punishment; the plea deal would, though it meant significantly lighter penalties. After serving as a juror, I better understand what is meant by the burden of proof and what guilty beyond a reasonable doubt requires. I thought back to my own case as a victim and whether a jury would have looked at the evidence available and concluded my abuser was guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. As a child, I thought if you were telling the truth, people were supposed to believe you. Going through the judicial process for felonious crimes exposed me to the harsh truth that so often more is needed when you are the victim. I do not know the answers, but I do long for the day when the judicial system feels like a more just place for victims of childhood sexual abuse.
We have reached the final day of 2021. I have not found anyone who has described this past year as the best one ever. There are so many words I could use to describe this past year, but difficult seems to sum up most of my experiences. While I celebrated various feats and joyful moments throughout the year, they were not without challenges. We are not promised comfort and happiness in this life. We are shaped and molded through our responses to the difficult experiences we face. As I write my last blog for 2021, I just wanted to reflect on what God has taught me this year and what my hopes and prayers are for 2022.
2021 started with grief, trauma, and one of the greatest losses I have experienced. For the first eleven days of this year, I watched my aunt’s physical life deteriorate and eventually die from cancer. The days and nights were long. Everyone was so weary and heartbroken. The pain was palpable. At times, I found myself gasping for air. But in those moments, friendships were rekindled, and I witnessed the power of a family’s love. My aunt’s life and legacy are celebrated. The grief journey continues- it does not end, it just changes. One of the things God has made most evident through my grief is the importance of grieving with others. It is important to be able to talk about my aunt with people who knew her and to be able to share about her with those who did not get the chance to meet her. While she is not physically here, the memories and the impacts she had on so many remain.
The experience of loss was profound this year. In September, our BFH staff and volunteers lost a dear friend we had the opportunity to minister to for a couple of years. His death was tragic and unexpected. As we looked for his family and tried to understand exactly what happened, I was heartbroken by the reality that there are many people experiencing homelessness in our nation who will die, and their family and/or loved ones may never know. Thankfully, we were able to find our friend’s family and notify them about his death. God granted us the opportunity to minister to our friend’s family which allowed us to experience a greater level of closure as we mourned this loss. We were able to show his family recent pictures and give them an account of his recent years and they were able to share photos from when our friend was younger before he ended up on the streets. In the midst of sorrow, God is my great Comforter.
Less than two weeks ago, I received a call that another dear friend had died completely unexpectedly. I do not think the shock has worn off or the reality sank in that when I return to New Orleans this weekend, I will not get a text asking if I have made it back yet. As I anticipate the grief from another loss, this year, God has shown me that we can and do survive the loss, and the pain will not be insurmountable every single day.
When I look at the year as a whole, I believe there is a collective loss that we are all facing. We may not recognize it as grief, but I believe that is part of what many of us continue to feel. Most all of us have lost someone we cared for deeply this year, whether to COVID-19, terminal illnesses, or tragedy. Our lives have not looked at all like what we anticipated. We have had hopes that things were returning to “normal” dashed as new variants of the virus emerge. There is much for us to grieve. I hope as we enter this new year, we can hold a space for this grief. Extending grace to one another, treating each other with kindness, and loving our neighbors are needed more now than any other time I can think of in my lifetime.
I am not a stranger to hurricanes, even major hurricanes, having grown up on the east coast and having lived in New Orleans for almost twelve years. But this year, I experienced my first extended evacuation when my return home was not easily predicted. While I am so grateful to have only been minorly impacted by Hurricane Ida, the uncertainty of what I would return home to and the feeling of helplessness as I watched the storm from afar were difficult to process. While the rest of the world seems to move on, those who have been impacted by any natural disaster operate in survival mode for weeks and months. In ways I had not quite experienced before on a personal level, I saw the body of Christ respond to a need in tremendous ways. I had the privilege of watching Southern Baptist Disaster Relief and other volunteer organizations show up in unpleasant conditions to be the hands and feet of Jesus. I am so grateful for the people who prayed, donated, and served in the aftermath of Hurricane Ida and who continue to support the recovery efforts.
Despite the chaos of 2021, God opened amazing doors for me to share my testimony and empower people to respond in life-changing ways to victims of childhood sexual abuse. I never imagined this platform would exist and that I would be invited to step onto it. From virtual conferences for local child advocacy centers and churches to national conferences alongside my heroes, God continues to redeem my story and use it to hopefully make a difference in the lives of children and those who serve them today.
In 2020, through only what I can describe as a divinely orchestrated encounter on Twitter, I learned about the SAFE Child Act that was passed in 2019 in NC. While I technically knew about the Act prior to it being passed, it was not until a fellow advocate on Twitter messaged me that I realized this piece of legislation actually applied to me. As a result, I had the opportunity to pursue civil action against my abuser which reached a settlement this year. The process was lengthy and painful- exposing unhealed wounds and revealing new wounds. There was a huge toll on my mental and emotional wellbeing. There were moments when I wanted to quit- which was certainly an option. But it was more important for me to seek justice while I had this opportunity and to do anything possible to protect future victims. My hope and prayer are that we will continue to see statute of limitations reform throughout our nation that better reflect the science/data and reality of the impacts of childhood sexual abuse.
This past year, I was reminded of the importance of flexibility and adaptability in the context of ministry. Through the changing protocols and guidelines due to COVID, we were able to continue to find creative ways of serving our community at BFH. Whether it was doing case management at a picnic table outside, reorganizing events, or re-assessing the greatest needs in our area, we found a way to keep the ministry going.
God has continued to provide the opportunity for me to pursue my PhD in Counselor Education and Supervision. Some days I believe I am ready to close the books, but most days I am so grateful for the opportunity to be stretched and challenged academically. In just a few days, I will be taking my qualifying exams which moves me one big step closer to completing this goal.
I do not know what this year will hold. While there are things I am looking forward to on my calendar, I nearly anticipate them to change- canceled, delayed, or turned virtual. I am resting in the truth that God is in control.
The song, “All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth,” popped into my head earlier this evening and I began thinking about what it is that survivors of sexual abuse actually want. Too often, I see news stories plague social media feeds and news stations where people are making assumptions about why survivors take certain actions and the motives that lie behind them. Quickly, I noticed a list of things flowing in my brain that better reflect what we want- and the list, it might surprise you.
Some of the wants on this list are, in reality, needs; but, needs can be wants too. While I am speaking from my personal experience, I believe what I will share reflects the thoughts of a large percentage of, maybe even most, survivors as well. So, let’s get started:
1. BELIEVE: many of us are told by our abusers that no one will ever believe us. The unfortunate reality is that they are often right. Many of us will experience the trauma of not being believed when we disclose our abuse. Some of us will experience this disbelief on more than one occasion. When the abusers are truthful in one statement, it makes their other statements seem more truthful as well. So, when they have threatened to harm or kill us and those we care about, the reality of that happening as well, seems more apparent. However, if our disclosure of abuse is met with belief, that challenges what the abuser has said, and it makes us question the truthfulness of other threats that have kept us quiet for so long.
2. JUSTICE: think of a time when you or someone you love has been sinned against, harmed, or threatened. Did you want that person held accountable for the pain they caused? There is nothing different about a survivor of childhood sexual abuse. We want to see justice served. As a Christian, I rest assured in the fact that my abuser will have to answer for his sins against me (I will also have to answer for my sins) and that is the ultimate justice that I can imagine. However, that knowledge did not diminish my desire to see earthly justice as well. Unfortunately, most of us will not see what we (as humans) perceive as adequate justice. Many times, it will feel like a slap in the face when our abusers are handed out meager penalties for their crimes. Others will never see an ounce of criminal justice take place. Please avoid chastising us for fighting for justice.
3. ADMISSION: more than anything, I wanted to hear my abuser say, “I sexually abused Kendall Marie Wolz for multiple years on a regular basis.” I wanted to hear my abuser admit his guilt. While his admission is not a requirement for my healing, it is something that I believe is important to include on this list of wants. In a majority of the situations where I was abused, the two people physically present in the room were my abuser and me. Therefore, he and I are the two people who know what happened. When we (survivors) are not considered credible, or our cases are labeled as “he said, she said,” the desire grows for us to hear our accusations are truthful.
4. HUMANITY: we don’t want to be seen as a case number or referred to as some victim in a news story. Despite the crimes we have had committed against us, we are still humans, just like you. See us as more than a victim. Help us see ourselves as more than a victim. Remind us of our worth and our wholeness.
5. COMPENSATION: this is probably the “want” that we receive the most flack for wanting. In many states, survivors of sexual abuse have the opportunity to file a civil suit which will typically involve financial compensation. Too often, I hear men and women filing civil suits for sexual abuse labeled as “money hungry” or “greedy.” But, when someone loses a limb due to malfunctioning equipment or someone loses their life due to another person driving drunk, we don’t ascribe those titles to them. So, why do we call survivors names and accuse them of having malicious motives when they have lost something too- some things you cannot see. Being a sexual abuse survivor is expensive. Many spend hard-earned money on therapy visits and medical expenses that they would not need if they had not been abused. I’m not saying we wouldn’t ever need therapy or have medical expenses, but we have these expenses that are directly related to the abuse we experienced. It is not wrong for us to want compensation for our losses. For many of us, this is the only place we will ever see justice through a judicial system. For many of us, the motive isn’t even the compensation, it’s the opportunity for justice to be served where it hasn’t been previously.
6. HEALING and FREEDOM: I am finally at a point in my healing journey, seventeen years later, where reminders of my abuse are not ever-present. I’ve been able to receive many of the “wants” on this list, but it has taken seventeen years to receive them. I recognize that I am one of the few who will receive these things. There is no timeline for healing. Perhaps the things survivors want most, after belief, are healing and freedom from the pain the abuse causes. We don’t just hurt during the time we are abused. The pain doesn’t end when our disclosure is believed. Too often, we are hurt again and again, by individuals, institutions, and systems, that don’t care well for survivors of abuse. I have always considered my journey of healing as lifelong because as I reach different developmental stages in my life, I recognize new ways the abuse impacts my thoughts, emotions, and behavior. But, there does come a day when the pain begins to subside, it dulls; though, in a moment’s notice, the throbbing can return. We long for the days before we knew abuse, for some, there are no memories of the before. We desire freedom from the trauma triggers. We desire a life filled with hope, joy, and trust- don’t you want those things too?
I’m sure there are more “wants” than this, but I hope this gives you insight into what survivors typically desire and the motives behind them. I hope you will challenge others when they spread false narratives, particularly when it involves civil suits. I hope you will support the survivors in your lives.
Each year, November 10 rolls around and I find myself thinking how bewildering it is that another year has passed. 17 years ago today, I went to school like any other day. Only this time, I would never return to the place I had called home- the place I absolutely loved, surrounded by fields of corn, filled with my pets, where I fell asleep each night. It was also the place where my abuser resided. This day is mostly filled with gratitude, but I would be remiss not to acknowledge the remembrance of the pain and suffering that I endured leading up to November 10, 2004 and in the time since.
The changes over the years in how I view this day, how my body remembers, and the meaning attributed, reveals the healing that I have experienced. I can acutely recall the third anniversary of my freedom and the immense pain the day brought. I was a junior in high school. I still had the pajama pants I frequently wore when my abuser used me for sexual gratification and I remember holding them in my hands and sobbing because even though I was physically freed from my abuser, I still could not see a future for myself where the impacts of the abuse did not haunt me. This was one of the lowest points in my journey. Throughout my story, there were people God placed in my life who guided me and helped me make it just one more day. That pit of despair is where an advocate met me and encouraged me to try a new counselor using a newer trauma-focused model. It was in this place where I discovered hope again. While it waned at times in the years following, I have never found myself as hopeless as I did at year three. This day is never easy, but it is different each year as the healing journey continues.
I often speak about the misconceptions we sometimes have about a person’s Freedom Day. All too frequently, we quickly celebrate and rejoice when a child is physically freed from the abuse they were experiencing. We should celebrate that freedom. But we must make room for all the chaos that comes rushing in quickly. Reflecting on what it felt like when I learned I would never return to my abuser, I do not recall it feeling celebratory at all. I had just spent the minutes prior hiding behind a shed with my younger siblings while our mom confronted my abuser. There were tears, fear, uncertainty, confusion, and anger in the midst of relief that I might now be safe. I literally went from believing one minute that my abuser would kill us to breathing a sigh of relief as he drove away. Physical freedom is just one part of being free.
Disclosures and freedom are only the beginning of a lifelong road of healing. It is filled with snares and valleys, caves and avalanches, mountaintops and scenic waterfalls. Please, allow room for all of it. If you are walking with a family or an individual after a disclosure of sexual abuse, I hope you will take the time to read through my suggestions for being the best advocate in their lives:
Allow us to express all the emotions we feel without judging them. It is not helpful to hear, “well at least you don’t have to see your abuser anymore” or “you shouldn’t worry about your pets because you got away.” Chances are, we may be in a place in our journey where we are regretting our disclosure because our lives have been turned upside down and we just want things to go back to the way they were- at least there, life was predictable (this stage does not typically persist, but it is a common reaction). Let us grieve the losses we have experienced. Let us be angry when justice seems far away. Let us feel whatever we feel and not feel bad about it.
Identify the needs the family may have and re-assess the needs often. Maybe you can prepare a meal for the family when there will be late afternoon/evening counseling sessions. Maybe you have somewhere safe you can store some of the family’s belongings until they get back on their feet. Maybe you can drive the siblings to extracurricular activities when the parent has meetings and appointments with district attorneys, law enforcement, child advocacy centers, counselors, etc. Maybe you can take care of the family’s pets until they have a place to call home again. The list of needs can be incredibly long, and the needs can persist for an extended time. It took nearly 1.5 years from my Freedom Day to the day my abuser accepted a plea deal in court.
Be an encouraging, calming, loving, strong presence. We did not really talk about my abuser’s first court date with people in our community. But when I shared about my abuser’s petition for removal from the registry, the court room benches behind me were filled with people who chose to be present for me. Do not underestimate the power of your presence. It shows the survivor that you believe them, and you care about them. Those two things are protective and healing for survivors. Your actions say: you are worth it.
Do not direct all your attention and focus on the “identified victim.” Intrafamilial abuse impacts the entire family as abusers must groom everyone to maintain control. Check in on the non-offending caregiver and the siblings of the victim. Their lives have been turned upside down too. They often experience ambivalent emotions and, in many situations, lack a safe place to express those feelings.
Advocate FOR us until you can advocate WITH us. We will need you to be the louder voice for us when we start healing. When we see you advocate for us, it helps us learn how to advocate for ourselves. Help us find and continue to use our voice in whatever direction we feel led. Fight for just legislation that supports victims. Push for policies that prevent children from being abused in the first place, but also expose those who commit these crimes and protect others from future victimization. Support agencies and ministries that serve individuals and families impacted by abuse. Educate yourself- know the red flags, learn how to make a report of abuse, talk to children about their bodies and teach them to recognize abusive/manipulative behavior.
This is clearly not an exhaustive list of how you can make a difference, but I hope it leads to action. During this year of freedom, I hope to help you become an advocate for children like I was 17 years ago, brave and scared. Stay tuned for posts with specific actions you can take to be the voice for those who have not been able to use their voice yet.
In my home state of North Carolina, there are several criteria that a registered sex offender must meet before they are able to seek removal from registry requirements. In this post, my hope is to raise awareness of one criterion that needs to be specified at the state level and enforced across jurisdictions. If you find yourself stunned those individuals on the sex offender registry even have an opportunity to get off it, you are not alone. Unfortunately, many survivors of childhood sexual abuse may find themselves receiving a call like the one I received in July 2018.
A victim advocate introduced herself when I answered the phone. She called to tell me that my abuser had filed the necessary paperwork to petition for removal from the sex offender registry and a court date had been scheduled one week later. Thankfully, I had requested a meeting with an ADA when I learned, years earlier, my abuser would have the opportunity to petition for removal. In that meeting, the ADA explained the elements my abuser would have to prove to be eligible for removal from the registry and how the prosecutor’s office typically approached these hearings.
Item 6 of the Findings of Fact on the AOC-CR-262 “Petition and Order for Termination of Sex Offender Registration” states: The petitioner is not a current or potential threat to public safety.
A couple of questions come to mind: how does one determine whether a person is a current or potential threat to public safety? What professional is qualified to make an assessment? What tools or research supports this type of assessment? Can anyone really say someone is not a current or potential threat to public safety? Is someone who committed sexual crimes against a child ever not a current or potential threat to public safety?
I am a provisional licensed professional counselor. I understand and appreciate the usefulness of assessments that help me track my clients’ progress and growth. Some assessments require additional training to administer. I have studied a couple of evidence-based assessments that are used to determine an offender’s risk of reoffending. While I do not think I would ever be willing to sign my name to a statement regarding a person’s potential threat to public safety, I can appreciate the science behind the assessments available for use. On most days, I am even okay with these assessments being utilized when offenders petition for removal from the registry. I am not okay when the evidence to support Item 6 comes from a professional opinion when no assessment has been conducted.
In my abuser’s petition hearing, his attorney produced a statement (regarded as an assessment) from a clinician that read “It is my professional opinion that (my abuser) does not pose a threat to children or to society.” The judge in this hearing initially pushed back against the gravity of this statement because there was no indication of a new assessment; instead, it appeared the document produced for evidence was a treatment completion report from 2009 (remember, this hearing was taking place in 2018). The clinician also wrote, “Without a doubt, (my abuser) showed re-assimilation to society, excels in the place of work and his family systems.” This is a very frightening statement, because my abuser did all those things during the time he was abusing me. He was not some creepy man on the fringes of society. He was a father figure, he was a husband, he maintained work, and he cared for the family- but during that time, he was also a child abuser. Those items cannot be our basis for measuring a person’s risk of reoffending. Following the judge’s pushback, a recess was granted so my abuser’s attorney could reach out to the clinic.
When we returned to the courtroom a few hours later, my abuser’s attorney relayed the information he gained from a phone call with the clinician. The following was reported to the court:
“Your honor, I can tell you I called (clinic), and was put in touch with the counselor or the doctor who did this evaluation – what I thought was an assessment. He advised me that because they had done the treatment over the years of (my abuser) [I think they meant the years 2006-2009], it’s their standard policy, unless specifically a new assessment is requested, to use their records, review those records, have a conversation with (my abuser) in May, to reach their conclusion. So they say based on that, they did not technically do a full assessment, even though that’s what we call it in scheduling. When he got there, what they did was review his records and have a conversation with him, but ultimately concluded that it is their professional opinion that he does not pose a threat to children or society.”
Did you know that your neighbor could have received one of these “assessments” and was granted removal from the sex offender registry, that’s why his/her name doesn’t show up when you visit the map of sex offenders’ addresses in your community?
This is why it is imperative that our courts ensure the safety and wellbeing of our children by requiring evidence-based assessments conducted by trained clinicians. While assessments are not foolproof, I am a lot more willing to place some faith in their results than I am a clinician reviewing records that are nine years old followed by a conversation with someone who is a master manipulator.
We must do better. We can do better. Our children deserve it. She deserved it.
When I woke up this morning, I noticed that I just did not quite feel like my usual self. I had my coffee, dropped PJ off at the groomer and jumped into a busy morning of work. I initially chalked it up to left-overs from the migraine I had yesterday or the congestion I began feeling over the weekend. It was not until I looked at my Facebook memories for the day that I figured out why I felt off.
3 years ago today, I was packing my suitcase to fly to North Carolina the next morning as I prepared to face my abuser as he petitioned for removal from the sex offender registry. When I think about the moments before I left, I can still feel the anxiety and fear that filled me. The two days I spent in court for the petition hearing revealed brokenness in our judicial system. My breath literally escaped me and I gasped when the judge granted my abuser’s petition for removal from the sex offender registry. In shock, I turned to the victim advocate to ask “he’s off?”
I broke for a moment. But I did not stay broken. During those two days in court, the same amount of time my abuser spent in jail for his crimes, my voice and my presence was unavoidable. I cannot imagine having to face that battle without the support which surrounded me. People across the United States and maybe even the world prayed for me and left words of encouragement that helped strengthen me. Benches were filled by “my people” who had walked this journey with me for nearly 12 years. When I took the stand, I looked in the eyes of those who believed me and were willing to sit with me on an uncomfortable bench in a crowded court room for two days and I knew I could continue with what I flew to NC to do- to have my voice heard. I am forever grateful for each person who was me with in person and in spirit.
While the pain still cuts deep when I think about the moment the judge made his ruling, the pain has largely been transformed into advocacy. 3 years ago, I had no idea the SAFE Child Act would be passed in my home state which would later allow me to pursue civil action against my abuser. I could have never imagined the opportunities to speak to audiences across the US and internationally that would be presented to me. If I had let the judge’s ruling and my abuser’s petition defeat me, I would have missed out on a lot of beautiful blessings in my life.
If you are in that broken place, please find a way to keep fighting, to keep healing. For me, my faith in God has been the ultimate source of healing; however, counseling has played a huge role in my life as well. It has been important for me to have safe, healthy people within my support system that I could turn to on days that were harder than others. I have learned to be patient with myself when I have days like today where everything feels off. I have learned that healing continues if I keep the momentum moving forward.
Yesterday marked the end of a nearly one-year long quest for justice made possible by the passing of the North Carolina SAFE Child Act in November 2019. It was not until I exhaled yesterday that I realized in many ways I had been holding my breath for the last year. It is so refreshing to breathe again.
In what I can only describe as divine intervention, I learned in July 2020 about how the NC SAFE Child Act directly affected me. On Twitter, I commented on a tweet about a person’s experience with their abuser petitioning for removal from the sex offender registry. I received a reply from an individual I had no other connection to on Twitter except this one comment I had posted. She informed me that my home state had passed a “revival window” in which any individual who experienced abuse in NC could pursue a civil suit before December 31, 2021, even if their statute of limitations had previously expired. This information created an opportunity for one last shot at justice through the judicial system. Armed with a recommendation for an attorney, I began a new fight.
I had no clue how difficult this fight would be. There were multiple times where I considered just dropping the effort and money put into the process because of how painful the work became; however, each time I considered quitting, I thought about the children my abuser has regular access to now, and I knew I had to keep fighting- if not for myself, for them.
You may be asking the question I started with- what exactly is a civil suit? You can google it and find all kinds of definitions and websites that will explain it to you with legal terms. For me, pursuing civil action meant I would have the opportunity to make the effects of the abuse I experienced known and to once again hold my abuser accountable for his crimes. Some people may ask, why now? Why did you wait until fourteen years had passed from your disclosure to pursue civil action? I had no idea this option was available to me. If you have followed my blog, you may remember a post from July 2019 when I met with a NC Senator to discuss my concerns about some of the legislation regarding the sex offender registry. In that meeting, he provided me with a copy of the draft of the Safe Child Act- it had not yet been passed. I read through the bill which included the information about the revival window for civil claims; yet it still did not register in my brain as an option available for me to pursue. It was not until my Twitter turned IRL friend told me directly, you can do this if you want and here is how you get started that I realized this bill was for me.
I am going to be sharing more about this journey in the coming weeks. Tonight, I wanted to leave a message for anyone who has experienced childhood sexual abuse in the state of North Carolina. If an individual abuse you or if an institution failed to protect you, there is a possibility that you can file a civil suit to recover some of the damages you incurred as a result of the crime you experienced. For many of you, the time to pursue civil action is limited. While I am going to be fighting to get the “revival window” extended, if that does not happen, your time will expire on December 31, 2021.
If you are considering pursuing civil action against your abuser or an institution, please do not hesitate to reach out. I am willing to answer any questions you may have, and I can connect you with an incredible attorney, and others who have chosen to walk this path as well. Follow my blog over the next few weeks to learn what the process was like for me. Ask the questions now to determine if pursuing civil action is the right step for you at this time in your life because time is running out.
I pray this letter never needs to reach you, but if you are hurt, I pray someone shares it with you. The person who abused you, also abused me when I was a little girl. I want you to know that I believe you and you are so incredibly brave. I will fight for you, speak with you, and stand beside you. You are not alone.
Every single day, I ask God to protect you and keep you safe. I have often prayed for our abuser’s repentance and for his heart to change through the forgiveness granted by Jesus Christ our Savior. That change is the only hope I have that you will never read this letter. Unfortunately, at the time of me writing this letter, there have been no obvious signs of our abuser’s acknowledgment of wrongdoing. Therefore, I am afraid he still poses a great risk to other children. That is why I am writing this letter.
My heart aches for you because I know the hope-crushing pain our abuser is capable of inflicting, which you are likely currently experiencing. Sometimes, I struggle with an overwhelming since of defeat because I am unable to protect you. Over the last 16 years, I have literally exhausted every option available to me to hold him accountable for his crimes so he would never be able to hurt you. I have fought so hard for you to never experience this pain. I am going to continue fighting for you, but now it will be at the systemic level. Where the system failed me, which unfortunately has failed you too, I will advocate for change. I desire for your days in the judicial system to be empowering and healing. You deserve that.
Most importantly, I want you to know that I hear you and I am listening. The days ahead will be difficult and you will probably question if the pain will ever end. The pain— it changes. Through the years, my pain morphed into zeal for truth and justice. There will be better days. One day, this will only be a chapter of your life. There is so much more I want to tell you, but until then, Brave One: Keep Speaking.
All too often the concepts of justice and revenge are equated. In some circumstances, people may truly mean revenge when they talk about “getting justice;” however, in my personal journey and in talking with other survivors of childhood abuse, justice ≠ revenge. For us, the penalties our abusers face for the crimes they commit rarely amount to what anyone would consider revenge/penalty/justice. What length of a prison sentence would ever be “enough” for the pain a child experiences when the person they trust assaults them in the most repulsive ways possible? When journeying toward justice, our primary goal is rarely penalty for what an abuser did to us because there is no penalty a court could give that could undo the agony and pain we experienced during and after the abuse. When our abusers do face consequences for the crimes they committed, it facilitates the healing process and makes it a little less complicated. However, we will face a lifetime of continued healing in the face of any judicial outcome. Therefore, our fight is not seeking revenge for the penalty we paid. Instead, our fight is for justice so no other child will experience the pain we felt.
Our journey toward justice is forward-looking. Our desire and motivation to seek justice is most often found in the experiences of our past, but our goal for justice is future oriented, for the children now. I once was the little girl that looked up to and trusted the man who ended up abusing me. I once was the little girl that crawled up in his lap to watch a television show with the family. I once was the little girl eager to spend one-on-one time with him. I fight for justice so the next little girl who desires those things from him does not experience the nightmare I lived and the trauma which continues to heal. I fight for justice so the penalties he may suffer will be a deterrent the next time he considers sexually abusing a child.
Justice is not sought only in the eyes of the court. I move further down the road of justice each time I hit publish on this blog. Each time I use my voice for the voiceless child I once was, justice occurs, because I’m no longer bound to muteness, living under the threats of secrecy.
Justice also comes when others use their voices with us. When elected officials and voters choose to enact laws that better serve survivors of childhood abuse such as the SAFE Child Act (S.B. 199) in my home state of North Carolina, they are seeking justice with us. To each official who supported this bill and each person who voted for it, I thank you. If you experienced childhood sexual abuse in North Carolina, I encourage you to read more about this bill at the following link: https://ncdoj.gov/wp-content/uploads/2019/11/SAFE-Child-Fact-Sheet_Final_Nov2019.pdf Feel free to contact me if you have any questions about how it may impact you.
This is not an individual journey. It is one we must take together to ensure the protection of children who deserve a life free from abuse.
It is so hard to believe that an entire year has passed since I returned home to North Carolina to face my abuser in court for the second time. Hearing the judge grant my abuser’s petition for removal from the sex offender was absolutely devastating. It is still infuriating and feels like a major injustice. It is terrifying to think about how he now attends little league baseball games as he stated in court that was one of his primary motivators for wanting to be removed from the registry. However, with time and healing, I have been able to turn those emotions into motivation and fuel to advocate for change. In this last year, God has opened doors for me that I believe are a direct result of my time spent in court a year ago.
I have had the incredible opportunity to begin speaking with a senator’s office in North Carolina. One of the primary goals I have set in advocacy is for victim notification of petition hearings. If I had not communicated with the District Attorney’s office in the years leading up to my abuser’s petition, I would not have been notified when my abuser was returning to court. North Carolina has an extremely helpful victim notification system that informs those who are registered to receive updates when the status of a sex offender changes. However, it does have a flaw. I received an update once when my abuser’s address changed. Then, I did not receive another update until I got the automated phone call letting me know my abuser was removed from the sex offender registry. There was no automated call to inform me of my abuser’s scheduled court date. I believe this will be a fairly simple “fix” to ensure that victims who want to be notified when his/her abuser petitions the court to be removed from the registry, he/she is informed in a timely manner. I fully support individuals who never want to be notified by a court again once a case is closed. However, I will stand firm in my beliefs that if a victim wants to be notified, he/she should be guaranteed timely notification. I will be forever grateful for the Assistant District Attorneys who listened to my concerns and promised to notify me as soon as my abuser was granted a court date for his petition. Even though the ruling was devastating, I will always rest knowing that I had the opportunity to speak truth in that courtroom.
The Lord has continued to ignite a passion in me to share my story so others can learn from both the strengths and weaknesses of victim services I received through the years. God has opened doors for me to engage with individuals on the national level. This October I will travel to Ann Arbor, MI to lead a breakout session and give a keynote speech for a statewide child abuse and neglect conference. In December, I will have the opportunity to lead a breakout session for the Center for Victims of Crime’s National Training Institute. I first attended this specific conference in New Orleans eight years ago. I never imagined that I would be given that same platform to educate people from across the nation about the impact petition hearings have on individuals who have experienced childhood sexual abuse.
In the days following the judge’s ruling, I flew back home to New Orleans and tried to launch back into my routine. Life did not fall back into place gracefully. I did not feel like the same person I was prior to the judge’s ruling. I felt like I had lost myself. Those feelings were a symptom of the trauma of reliving the abuse as I looked at my abuser from the witness stand. I was changed through that experience. Some of the plans I had for my life had to be delayed while I took some time to heal. God is so faithful and His timeline is always much better than any we can ever imagine. Six months after I appeared in court, I began seeing clients for counseling as a provisional licensed professional counselor. A couple of months after that, I was accepted into the Ph.D. program at the same school where I received my master’s degree. Later this month I will attend my first course as a Ph.D. student.
I know I have mentioned this before, but I believe it is worth mentioning again. If you had told 13-year-old Kendall who had just talked with a social worker at school about the abuse she was experiencing at home that one day she would be standing where I am now- I would never have believed you. Abuse teaches us that we are unworthy, ruined, dirty, and shameful, among other things. You don’t grow up believing you have a voice because it has been silenced by an abuser.
God redeems. God heals. God loves. God will lift the voice of those who have been silenced.
For those of you who have joined me on this blogging journey, your support means the world to me. For those of you who have prayed for me over the years, I can not thank you enough. For those of you who think no one will hear your voice, I am listening.
This journey continues. Stay tuned for more blog posts, updates on legislative activities, and future speaking engagements. If you ever have any questions or want to know how you can advocate for victims of childhood sexual abuse in your own community, please don’t hesitate to reach out.