Where did the children go?

November 2019

The ride back from seeing Racheal was anything but boring. I kept thinking about whether I should go to the STAR group the next day, and I must have thought of a thousand excuses not to. I was worried about crowds and didn’t want to make another trip into the city. But honestly, none of those excuses were solid enough to skip it, especially since I had already told Racheal I would be there.

That night, I took a shower and picked out my outfit. Since it was November, shorts were out of the question. I went with jeans, a blue t-shirt, and my Union Jack Vans. The group was at 6 PM, so I spent most of the day just goofing off and chatting with a new girl named Kate from the game I play. Kate was Russian, and we hit it off really well. Thanks to the chat software in the game, we could easily talk to anyone from anywhere, and it would translate everything into our preferred languages. Her full name was Katerina, but she liked to be called Kate. We were getting pretty close, and I really enjoyed hanging out with her.

It was finally time to head out for the group. The drive into Baton Rouge took about 20 minutes, and then another 5 to get to Corporate Drive where the meeting was happening. Traffic on I-10 was pretty heavy, so I ended up a few minutes late. When I got there, they had a big circle of chairs set up, and most people were already seated. I picked a spot next to a table to set down the Coke I had brought along.

The meeting was about to kick off, and I was feeling pretty anxious. I didn’t know anyone there, and I wasn’t sure if I’d even speak up. The facilitator, Shannon, seemed friendly enough. I counted around 22 people, which didn’t help ease my nerves being surrounded by so many unfamiliar faces. I was worried it would feel as daunting as that first group I attended back in 2017, but that was an anger management session, and this one was for survivors of sexual assault.

Group began. ...And it hit the ground running!

People shared their stories about rape, domestic violence, and there were even a few survivors of incest like me. After about 45 minutes, Shannon turned to me and asked, “How are you holding up, Sam?” I nodded, admitting I felt a bit anxious. One by one, others chimed in, sharing how nervous they were during their first meeting, which actually helped ease my nerves. Shannon then asked if there was anything I wanted to talk about. I was surprised when I started to share with the group about a letter I had written to my brother Mark regarding my sexual assault. I had it saved on my phone. She offered me the chance to practice reading it aloud to everyone, so I went for it. I read the entire letter, and the positive feedback I received felt amazing. I really liked the group; there were a few people I could see myself becoming friends with. We all had so much in common, and I felt like I learned something valuable from each person’s story. Shannon was really kind and had this playful grin that would pop up now and then. She was an excellent counselor and facilitator. On my way home, I knew I wanted to come back.

Weeks went by, and I kept busy. I had group sessions on Wednesdays, met with Racheal on Tuesdays, and joined a Doctor Who viewing group on Tuesday nights. The rest of my time was spent writing and job hunting. I was on unemployment, and finding work was tough. But I was really focused on learning to cope and heal.

When the group kicked off tonight, I had some news to share. I had sent my brother the letter, express mail, and I was pretty sure he got it today. I was feeling a bit anxious, but knowing him, I didn’t expect much more than a “We’ll pray for you.” That’s their go-to response for everything. Don’t get me wrong, I have faith in God, but I can’t help but wonder, where was God when I was being sexually groomed? Why didn’t God step in then? I guess I’ll never really know. My mind wandered as the meeting began. Shannon introduced us to her intern. The group was going to have an intern from STAR to help Shannon out. It was a training opportunity for her, and she seemed really nice. “Hey everyone, how’s it going tonight? This is Lexi, and she’ll be interning with us for a few months. Let’s give her a warm welcome.” Little did I know how much of a positive impact Lexi would have on my life.

Shannon brought up a thought-provoking topic that I hadn’t really considered before. She suggested that we all have inner children within us—kids with needs and questions who crave answers. These inner children, she said, require a lot of self-care. That’s why it’s crucial to take care of ourselves regularly. I pondered that on my way home, and by the time I got there, poetry was pouring out of me like a waterfall. As I wrote, I felt this surge of anger.

Hard Thunder

thunder and lightning crashes against the house .

i jump and suddenly i'm filled with fear.

it's just so loud and violent,

i flinch and suddenly he's here.

thunder, yelling, fear,

his hand on the back of my head,

again in his bed, flashes, lightning

a fast rush of shame covers me

but there's no protection from his thunder.

The rain comes, it always comes

after the thunder, the yelling.

i want to crawl in a hole, hide the child

whose broken like that cup

i dropped last week,

God! the hurricane arrived that day

followed by sickly smelling sweat.

maybe he'll drown in it.

I ended up writing a ton of poetry that night after the group session. I was really diving into this inner child theory. If we all have these hurt children inside us, will they get fixed or healed when we do? And once we’re all better, where do the children go? Do they just vanish? It feels like we’d be losing our childhoods. The thought of them disappearing when we heal really didn’t sit well with me. I wanted to play, maybe do some coloring, and connect with that inner child. But right now, she was just too angry. I think I should bring this up with Racheal. I’m thinking of calling my inner child Sammie. THE END

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For the other chapters click below:

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V