She may well be plagued by occasional flashes, and glimpses of unknown terror, just as I was. So it is left to me as witness to my own abuse to speak to a world that does not protect children. Instead, it is a world that protects the idea of parenthood, motherhood, and family at the expense of the undeniable evidence that often exists. It has become fashionable to idealize Family. The memories and pain of adult survivors of abuse are often dismissed as hysteria and craziness.
Child abuse is real.
The destruction that follows is real. My life story is somewhat typical, and I was one of the lucky ones. I am still alive to tell. I have no doubt that the flashbacks I experience are memories of real events. I have no doubt that the pain in my body is remembered pain.