As an adult, Beth struggles with the competing narrative constructions of a romantic love story, which portrays her as an equally responsible and willing participant in the relationship with her coach, and an abuse story, which portrays her as a susceptible minor who does not have moral responsibility for what happened to her....The researchers argue that the lack of narrative resolution means that Beth is likely to relive past experiences as a way of trying to make sense of what happened.
As I read I felt a tug of recognition and then the oh-so-familiar stab of guilt. Competing narratives, yes! I willingly threw myself into all things church, excited by the possibilities the leader appeared to be offering. He didn't force me to give so much of my time, energy and finance, I loved my church I was equally responsible, equally to blame, perhaps more so. But what about the power imbalance? He, the boss, the leader of a growing church, able to fire and hire at will, me, just emerging from 9 years as a stay at home mother, eager for something new yet uncertain about my abilities. What about the position of trust he held as a religious leader, the man 'appointed by God'? Did he not abuse this power and position?
And then the guilt. This woman was sexually abused as a minor, how can I compare my story to hers? How can I compare the church leader with the predatory tennis coach? Never mind that I've read numerous accounts of how devastating spiritual abuse can be, what right do I have to use Beth's heartbreaking history to illustrate my own?
But in spite of these protestations, I remain painfully aware of my own competing stories and my brain frequently relives this portion of my past in an attempt to forge a single coherent narrative. There are times when I think I'm almost there, then a trigger detonates crippling emotional flashbacks and the sense making process begins again.
I think the kindest approach I can take right now is one of acceptance. To accept that I have been emotionally and spiritually traumatised and that this is part of the healing process. My narratives may need a few more bouts in the ring during the months ahead, but I feel hopeful about the eventual outcome.
* Introducing Qualitative Research in Psychology. 3rd ed. C. Willig (2013).
I love that expression, "competing narratives"! It describes so well the crazy-making that goes on.
ReplyDeleteYes I found it so helpful, somehow brings a little order to the craziness!
ReplyDeleteThank you for posting this! Having been abused sexually, physically, emotionally as a child and as an adult in a church context I understand the struggle with triggers that seemingly come from nowhere at times. Also, I've found the scars from the church abuse are taking longer to heal - that abuse happened as an adult and the triggers are at times relentless - seeing the car of my abuser, seeing them or their family at events, having someone pray AT me like my abuser did and tell me what God SAYS I must do, hearing from others that my abuser slanders me as displaying bad fruit because I have adopted a no contact boundary and don't show God's love because I won't have anything to do with them. Then there are the quiet times that I relish where the triggers are not there and I feel I'm making headway. Then boom, back into the turmoil again. So glad to have found your blog and see that in time, now that I'm getting stronger to accept and speak up I will find wholeness. Thank you x
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry for all that you have been through. Thank you for sharing a little of your story with me. As I read your words I can't help but think that you are so much more whole than any of those who have abused you. That's not to minimise the pain and scars you carry which must be very deep, but it seems that your heart has remained kind and gentle even in the face of dysfunction and evil. I am certain that you are a blessing to many and that you are on the path to healing and wholeness. Thank you again for sharing xxx
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