Words With A Negative Connotation

You’re headed for a party with a bunch of old cronies you haven’t seen in years. You’re so much looking forward to it.  You walk in the door and there’s Joe on the other side of the room. Even though you haven’t seen him in a couple decades you’d know him anywhere. The two of you were best friends all through high school and then lost touch when you went off to college. Wouldn’t it be great if you could renew that old friendship?  Joe recognizes you as well and the two of you give each other a manly hug, exchange greetings and begin to catch up on all the news. After you start it off with current marital status, career, home, family etc. Joe puts in his news. You pat him on the shoulder and say how glad you are to see him looking so well. His face droops for a moment and then he says, “Actually, I have bad news; I have pancreatic cancer. The doc gives me six months tops. That’s one reason I came to this party so I could say hello and goodbye to my old friends.” You’re stunned as your smile stops in mid-air. “Then in a shaky voice you find yourself saying, “Gee Joe, I’m sorry; gosh look, there’s Fred over there. I’ll catch you later. You escape with a guilty heart but much relieved. Not only one, but two words with a negative connotation, dying and cancer.

Your best friend calls you and says she has something important to tell you. Can you meet her at the local coffee shop. Sure you say and off you go. You’re glad to see each other. She looks depressed, almost in despair. You ask her what is wrong. “I was raped at gunpoint by a masked man last night on my way home from work.” You’re in shock and stare at her with your mouth hanging open. “Susie, how awful. Oh my God! (you pause for a moment, trying to digest this horrifying piece of news) I just realized something. I’m supposed to meet my mother. I’m so sorry. Why don’t we talk later?” Off you go. Rape is a word that you definitely never want to hear, even from your best friend and masked man and gunpoint rate somewhere nearby as well.

You run in to your uncle at the local shopping mall, exchange hugs and greetings. He asks you how your life is going. “I just found out my newborn baby has Downs Syndrome.” He stares at you as if you’d just asked him to turn over all his money and responds, “Uuum, I’ve heard about that. Don’t know much though. Shame, I think. Well, I’m running late. Nice to see you.” Is it only men who can’t handle hearing about a child’s mental disability?

A friend of yours calls to tell you her husband is coming home from Afghanistan. He’s been gone more than a year and you tell her what great news that is. “He lost both of his legs when he stepped on a mine,” she adds. You stare at the phone as if it were a snake and mumble, “Poor guy. Look, can we talk later. My kids are late for a soccer game.” You hang up. You picture amputations, having to see her husband at some gathering and wondering what excuse you can make to not go.

You get together with a close friend for a drink after work. Once you’ve both ordered and caught up on pleasantries she says, an earnest look in her eyes, “I’ve been going to a therapist to find out why I keep choosing bad guys for mates and I found out that my father raped me when I was a little kid. Incest! I have some memories of child sexual abuse but I always thought they were bad dreams. Can you believe it?” You hold your breath and then say, “Guess what, I’m getting a raise. I think my boss wants to promote me. Isn’t that great?” Not only did you not respond to her, you changed the subject as if she had never spoken those yucky sex words, child sexual abuse and the worst of all, incest.

Unfortunately, we live in a world filled with realities that are defined by words with a negative connotation. We could use euphemisms or platitudes instead. Can’t we say “inappropriate behavior” instead of child sexual abuse? Why don’t we say, “He had some injuries in the war” instead of lost both legs and how about saying, “I’m not well” instead of telling people you have cancer.  “Criminally attacked” would certainly clean up that awful word rape. When I was a little kid my parents referred to someone who was drunk (and an alcoholic) as “sick”. Thank God for Alcoholics Anonymous.

Many years ago I was engaged to be married to a man who was diagnosed with lung cancer shortly after we bought our house together. He went downhill very quickly and was soon so thin his pants hung on him. He insisted on going to the annual picnic for the company where he worked. As we wandered around, Chuck, ashen faced and walking with a cane, ran in to different male friends he’d known for years. They patted him on the back, ignored his ashen face and cane, began talking about the latest sports statistics and soon hurried off. His women friends were different. They gave him a hug and asked how he was doing, then listened with heartfelt concern as he spoke of radiation, chemotherapy and prognosis.

No one wants to hear bad news. Deep inside we’re all Pollyannas and want everything in the world to be perfect, no wars, no illnesses, no marital problems, no financial worries and perfect kids and climate. Guess what, that’s not the world we live in, like it or not. Most of us can’t escape something happening in our life that is unpleasant (another euphemisms) or even life threatening. But we must label things as they are. We cannot attack resolution of this problem if we don’t. I’ve talked to so many people who skirt around the edge of the words “child sexual abuse” when they want to write me about what happened in their childhood. They are afraid to use the real words when they should be afraid to not use them. Where did you get those bruises? I ran into a cupboard. Does that cupboard have your husband’s name on it?

In my particular case, the first time my father raped me I lay sleeping on the bottom bunk in the bedroom where one of my sisters slept in the upper bunk and my baby sister, age three, slept in a crib next to our bunk bed. In a state of terror as I knew nothing about what was happening to me, I shrieked and screamed for help, fighting back with all I could. My mother, a heavy sleeper, didn’t come into my bedroom until my father had completed his rape. He stood nearby a hand clutching his robe as I clung to my mother in hysterics. She asked what happened. “It hurt and it was crushing me. Mama, help me, please Mama, help me”. She wrapped her arms around me and in soothing tones kept saying repeatedly, “It was just a nightmare, just a nightmare.” I kept saying no and begging her to help me. I didn’t know what had happened to me so I had no words to put to the deed. She kept telling me I’d had a nightmare and finally left the room as I lay sobbing and hiccupping, my rosary clutched in my hand.

For the rest of my life I remembered the nightmare with such clarity but since I was only 13 and thought you bought babies at the hospital I had no idea what had happened to me. I have had so many people tell me that they were awakened from a sound sleep and had a “nightmare”.

If you can’t use the exact word that describes what you went through you’ll never be able to heal from it. The old saying, “Call a spade a spade,” is so true. If you have a wound in your leg from falling down from a tree and it is bleeding and rapidly getting infected from lack of medical care and you keep telling yourself you got a bit of a scratch when you fell, you’ll never get the medical care you need and may wind up losing your leg. A wound is, by definition, an injury involving penetration of the body.

That’s what happens to child sexual abuse victims who can’t even do the first step in REPAIR, Recognition. They won’t lose their leg, but they may lose their life.

Use your words and be not afraid when others use theirs. Reach out with compassion and understanding. Be there for those who were wounded in whatever way it happened. Is that not what you would want if you were wounded? Listening to someone else’s tale involving tragedy may cause you to flinch but when you consider how much you are helping someone else who desperately needs to talk about what happened to someone who will listen, it is a small price to pay.

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