Sitting with my fear and anxiety

For the past two and a half years I have dedicated my life to being a voice for the voiceless and fighting for justice for those who have been hurt. All the while I have been on my own personal healing path. My path, like most healing paths, has been filled with pain but I have also found a lot of love.

Tonight I will give a presentation here in Pennsylvania. I have given 30-40 presentations just like it over the past 2 years, except tonight is different. I have been diagnosed with PTSD and other disorders as a result of having been sexually abused as a child. Through therapy I have learned coping skills and relaxation techniques to alleviate the symptoms when they arise. Today I will call upon all the knowledge I have gained to get me through the event. Why is this event so different from the dozens of others? Why have I not felt this much anxiety since I first decided to disclose my abuse?

Tonight is different because the people who I once loved and who I thought loved me have decided they will attend the event. The same people who attack me and other victims nonstop. The person I called “Mom” for so many years. The same people who write letters to event organizers, when I am to speak, asking them to rescind their offers because I am a liar and a phony. The people who will do anything to silence others and myself when it comes to speaking about child sexual abuse.

Please let me be clear. I do not fear these people nor will they stop me from my mission. The mission of protecting children and creating a society that is accepting and loving of survivors of CSA. The anxiety that I am feeling comes from the revictimization these people are hell bent on delivering. You see their mission is not unique or unexpected in any way. They are not special. This was something I knew would happen at some point. The denial and self-preservation is too strong a force in their lives to see the truth.  They have been groomed, just as we all have been,  by a master perpetrator and cannot break free.

Healing comes through embracing the truth.

So for today I will sit with my anxiety. I will embrace the unknown and tonight I will take the stage.  I made the decision long ago that something else is more important to me than fear. No child should ever have to hurt the way I and the millions like myself have. Survivors deserve to have a society that treats us with love, respect, and compassion. Fear and anxiety are the fuels I use to push me forward as I speak.

So while I may have been triggered by this experience I can get peace knowing that it has offered me growth. The opportunity I have tonight is a blessing. In recovering from child sex abuse I made a promise to myself to always feel, no matter the emotion that came, and to be honest with myself. Tonight I will look fear and anxiety in the face and I will overcome. My message will be heard, I will help save others, and I will overcome every obstacle put in my path.

Eleanor Roosevelt once said “you gain strength and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing you think you cannot do.”

By: Matthew Sandusky

Shame: A Personal Reflection


For the last 29 years I’ve felt ashamed. Ashamed of my body. Ashamed of my appearance. Ashamed of my actions. Ashamed of my choices. Most of all, I have been ashamed of something that I have held so close to my heart but never really attempted to talk about. The abuse my body endured at the hands of someone else has locked me into a closet that I have been unable to let anyone else into.

The shame. The guilt. The mental torment. The secrets. The lies. The weight sometimes feels unbearable. It’s like you want to explode. Instead, you just smile and keep going. I’m pretty sure that explosive, bubbling feeling that is centered right in my gut will always nag at me until I can heal the wounds of my past. It will fester and ooze until I can work through the years of self-blame and shame and doubt. But one day…the wound will heal.

I think the shame feels the heaviest. It’s like toting a weight around with me everywhere I go. It’s like walking around and wondering if I am transparent because it feels as if everyone I pass by can see right through me. They can see my “junk.” They can see my past, my flaws, my brokenness. It’s like they can see that I’m not like them. It’s like they can see all of the blood gushing from the wounds that I keep putting band aids on in hopes that they will just go away. I wonder if they really can see?

In the stillness of the night is when it hurts the most. My mind won’t ever let me completely rest. I always seem to play the woulda, shoulda, coulda game. At 34 years old I still can’t stand the thought of another human being sleeping in my bed. I need my space. I need to know that I am okay on my own. When I can fall asleep I drift off to the lull of the television and the snuggles of my fur babies. The silence is too much for my already racing mind. The silence allows too much grief to creep in. The silence allows it all to come rushing back.

But for today, I will rest knowing I am doing the best I can.

By:  Alison Morrett


Healing your inner child after sexual abuse

“Survivors of childhood sexual abuse (CSA) often have conflicting feelings and opinions about the child they were at the time of the abuse. A CSA survivor might be mad at the child they were back then for not fighting back, not running away, or not telling. There might be the feeling that this child caused the abuse and therefore is responsible for the pain being felt now as an adult. Many of these feelings end up internalized as anger or resentment towards an inner child, representative of a childhood self.”

Below is an excerpt from my book “Undaunted: Breaking my silence to overcome the trauma of child sexual abuse. In the excerpt I write about one of the conversations I had with my inner child. I never would have attempted this work alone. I was only able to attempt it because I was working with a specialized trauma therapist and I had progressed far enough in my recovery to have the strength to tackle this work. Healing your inner child is very intense work and I strongly recommend consulting a therapist of your own before exploring this aspect of healing. 

Begin excerpt:

“Please sit down. I would like to have a talk.” I knew I was at a point where I needed to sit down with this young, scared, and lost boy. He needed to hear what I had to say, and I needed to put into words what I had been feeling. We sat there for a quiet moment. I just looked into his empty blue eyes as he returned the stare right back into mine. He was dressed in torn up jeans and a filthy t-shirt that he had worn for the past week. His blonde hair was long and unkempt, like he had just woken up from another restless night where sleep escaped him.

“The first thing I want to say is, I believe you.” He was no longer looking at me. “You are the bravest person I have ever met, and I will do all that I can to make sure you no longer get hurt.” I know he hears me but there is no reaction.

Is this child that stubborn? Was he never taught to look at someone who is speaking to him? Is he a bad kid with no respect for others? No. I know these things are not true about him. He is scared. He has been afraid for most of his life. It has been a life that taught him to trust no one, especially men. It is a fear that most likely started from birth, but as he has explained to me, his first memory is being around two years old. His alcoholic biological father has him sitting on a bed and is kneeling at his feet, holding the red-hot flame of a cigarette lighter to his tiny, fragile toes. His father, his protector, is causing him excruciating pain. As he cries out, his mother and grandfather are beating on the door. He can hear the panic in their voices as they plead with his father to let him go. As the tears roll down over his little cheeks, he sees that his father is laughing. Then darkness overtakes him completely. This was his beginning.

“Look at me, please. You need to know that I love you and I will never hurt you.”

As he looks up at me, I see those blue eyes and I see the tears. In that moment I can’t control myself, and we both cry together. I want to hug him but I do not want to invade his boundaries. I am here with him, having the hardest conversation either of us has ever had. It will have to be enough for now. This little boy has experienced so much in his life, and here he is, still standing. I know he won’t speak during this conversation. Words have been beaten out of him, and the threats from the offenders are real. It is now my duty to protect this child and give him the opportunity to see a world he has only imagined existed.

After his victimization from his biological father, a man who was supposed to protect him and nurture him, his adoptive father then sexually victimized this innocent boy. I wasn’t there to protect him at the time. That would never happen again.

“I want to thank you for what you have done for us. I know you lost your childhood, but now I am giving that back. It is my turn to carry the pain and put it away for good. You are my hero, and I will forever be thankful and inspired by your strength. Always know that none of this was your fault. Now you go play. I have work to do.”

As we stood, he hugged me tightly and for the first time I heard his fragile, scared little voice: “I love you.” The tears started to roll from my eyes once again.

For further reading on healing your inner child please click here


This following is an excerpt from the new book “Undaunted: Breaking My Silence to Overcome the Trauma of Child Sexual Abuse” by Matt Sandusky. In the passage Matt talks about the grooming process he experienced and how we can protect children from grooming behaviors. To purchase the book, visit www.amazon.com.

Grooming reminds me of the story about the frog in hot water. If you put a frog in boiling hot water to stew him, he’ll do everything he can to get out. Yet if you put a frog in cool water and just raise the temperature a little bit at a time, by the time the water is boiling, the frog will be trapped and unable to jump out. The frog didn’t notice the gradual heating up of the water until it was too late.

Grooming a victim for child sexual victimization is like gradually heating the water the frog is in. The temperature is being turned up just a little at a time. The unsuspecting child may sense something is a little bit off, but the water is not hot enough to cause enough alarm to jump or run away. Young children are innocent of sexuality, anyway. Often they are not sure what the offender is doing and why he is doing it. Their sense of it being wrong or weird may grow stronger, but they still can’t quite sort out why. Meanwhile, the water gets hotter and hotter, and by the time children realize that they have been sexually victimized, they feel shame and embarrassment that they let it get this far. Most often, they then choose to remain silent as a way of protecting themselves from the ramifications of public disclosure of that shameful activity.

Jerry [Sandusky] groomed children in a textbook way. He grew close to them, gaining their trust and even gaining their parents’ trust, by being nice, helpful, and giving. The touching started in seemingly innocent ways: a little horsing around (as Jerry was to call it), a little wrestling, an arm slung over the shoulders, hugs, a hair wash or soap fight in the showers, swatting the rear end, giving the stomach raspberries that make children laugh so hard, and tickling (Jerry always claimed he was The Tickle Monster). At first it would be a hand on the knee while seated next to him in the car, and then it would be a hand on the thigh…. Child sex offenders are masters at grooming children for sexual purposes, leading them like the Pied Piper down the slippery slope that starts out with seemingly normal human affection and nurturing.

By the end of the week-long camp during my second summer at The Second Mile, Jerry was taking me upstairs to his office in the building, away from all the other campers and counselors. This made me feel very special – to be singled out for this kind of personal attention from the man in charge was overwhelming. In most camps nowadays, that alone would be considered suspicious behavior, and there should be rules preventing adults from taking a child away from the others and isolating him or her in a deserted part of a building. At least I would hope so. But even if there were such rules at The Second Mile it wouldn’t have mattered. Jerry was king there. He made his own rules.

During those conversations he would talk to me about my home life. He would ask how school was going and also things about the camp. He would show great personal interest in me, and it was flattering. I hadn’t received much adult attention that was that positive. I was not used to someone so powerful and wealthy being interested in me as an individual.

I also started seeing Jerry around the dorms in the evenings when we were getting ready for lights out. He would come by and say goodnight to the campers.  At one point Jerry asked me if I might be interested in attending a Penn State football game in the fall. What would any male child of that age say? Of course, I said yes. I couldn’t believe my luck! I remember being totally excited to tell my friends and family that I would be getting to go to a real college football game. That simple opportunity was something beyond my wildest dreams.

I was feeling so special because of Jerry’s attentions. I thought maybe my luck in life was changing. He seemed like the greatest thing that had ever happened to me….


Matt Sandusky is a child sexual abuse survivor, activist, author, and is the founder of Peaceful Hearts Foundation. Peaceful Hearts strives to create a society where every child and survivor of childhood sexual abuse can feel safe, supported, and empowered to thrive.  Matt tours the nation speaking to groups about his personal experiences with child sexual victimization and the importance of education and breaking the silence that allows abuse to thrive. His new book “Undaunted: Breaking My Silence to Overcome the Trauma of Child Sexual Abuse” is available on www.amazon.com.

How are CSA and Eating Disorders Linked?

Someone once told me, “Control is an illusion.” I’m not sure that I really understood that when I first heard it. When our bodies are robbed, and manipulated, and abused, we cling to the things that tend to feel “stable.” We cling to comfort and the things that make us feel in control when everything else feels utterly chaotic.

I think everything in life is linked. Imagine for a second that you grow up in a house of rigid perfectionism. Do you really think you will live your life completely unaffected? Or, you are in a military combat environment and witness traumatic events. The linkage is there! It’s the absolute same with CSA and eating disorders.

For me personally, at the height of my eating disorder everything was about avoidance. I didn’t want to think about the abuse or even talk about it for that matter. I still to this day have a very difficult time wanting to be open about it. I lived in isolation and secrets. My internal chaos was calmed by starving followed by repeated cycles of bingeing and purging. I never felt comfortable letting anyone into my world. Who could possibly understand? Who would believe me? And so my body became my “force.” My body became my weapon. My body became my control.

It’s humiliating, really. To stand in front of the mirror. To look at the reflection of the body that was once yours but stolen away so long ago. The shame. The guilt. The embarrassment. Your wounded soul filled up with food, or the lack of, just to feel contentment. Wondering. Wondering if the pain will ever go away.

As much as my eating disorder has been about control, it has also been a way to punish myself. “Why me?” “Why didn’t I tell anyone?” All of these questions run around in my mind still to this day, even almost 29 years later. I can’t help but play the what-if game with myself. What if I had run away? What if I had screamed? What if I had told someone? And because I was a child and did none of those things, my adult mind wants to punish my adult body.

The struggle is real! Day by day. Hour by hour. Minute by minute. But, I am grateful. I am grateful to be a survivor. I am grateful for the hope that is granted to me with each new day. I am grateful that that which has not killed me has only made me stronger. I am grateful to love and be loved.

“Grace is everything for those who deserve nothing”

My name is Alison Morrett and I live in Lexington, South Carolina. I am a registered nurse and spent 6 years in the United States Air Force. Aside from writing, I am absolutely in love with animals, reading, and painting. I’ve struggled with an eating disorder for 25+ years and am a grateful survivor of childhood sexual trauma.