Acceptance of what happened was a big step, “acceptance” meaning I didn’t judge myself for what had happened, or choose to see myself as a lesser person among “normal people” because of my abuse. Nor did it mean that I felt I deserved the treatment somehow. It happened. I couldn’t stop what was happening. It didn’t mean that I deserved the abuse, or that I was a horrible person, or even that my abusers hated me. It meant that some adults couldn’t cope and forgot I was a kid while they were trying to get their needs met in some really warped ways.
They’re responsible for their behaviour, but I’m responsible for whether or not I continue to use the past as a reason to not trust other people or to go on with my life.
I had to allow myself to be angry. I hid my anger at the time of my abuse because that would have brought on more abuse, so I had rage stored up for years and turned it back on myself as depression and self-denigrating and all those other sad behaviours and feelings. I didn’t realize then that I didn’t have to do this to myself.
Also, I had to deeply grieve. I grieved my loss of innocence, my loss of a healthy relationship with my family, and other thing. I needed therapy to help me with this, and it’s taken time.
I wish you peace on your journey to heal.