The Soul Wound of Childhood Sexual Abuse

About a dozen of us sat in the classroom.  Chairs had been moved around, not as a neat circle but turned so we could see each other.  As psychologists-in-training, we were talking about clients — well, not about specific clients but types of clients and their problems.  Who did we find most challenging?  What really pushed our buttons and made us uncomfortable?  Were there types of clients with whom we just couldn’t work?

The conversation happened sometime in the mid-1980s when I was a graduate student.  As grad students, we had lots of conversations about clinical work.  But this one stood out for me.  The prevailing consensus in the group was that most of my colleagues couldn’t work with clients who sexually abused children.  They were deeply offended by the sexual abuse of children (with good reason) and they saw people who did this as unredeemable monsters who weren’t worth the effort of our skill.  I found myself outside of the group, on the margin, but unable to clearly voice my disagreement.

In some of the literature on sexual abuse, an unusual term is sometimes used.  Some clinicians describe the aftermath of childhood sexual abuse as a wounded soul.  The hurt, the trauma, is so deep that some clinicians move beyond standard psychological jargon to describe the level of trauma as ravaging the soul — the essence of a person’s being.

With the prevalence of reports of childhood sexual abuse committed by clergy, coaches, scout leaders, and so many others to whom the care of youth has been entrusted, it’s not surprising that many people view the abusers as despicable individuals.  I understand that.

Here’s what most people don’t know about people who commit childhood sexual abuse:  up to 80% of adults who commit childhood sexual abuse were sexually abused as a child.  Yes, adult predators are most likely victims of abuse themselves.  Let me be clear:  just because one was sexually or physically abused doesn’t make one an abuser. Yet, abusers were typically abused themselves.  They carry a deep soul wound and out of that pain do harm to others.

As a society, we usually have compassion for those who have been victimized by childhood sexual abuse.  But we have misunderstood that the predators are also victims.  Both predators and victims need the same care, compassion, and opportunities for healing.  When predators are ostracized and marginalized from social support and appropriate mental health services, the cycle of abuse easily continues.  Loneliness, isolation, stress, fear, and self-loathing increase the likelihood that an abuser will act out in compulsive ways.

Please don’t misunderstand me:  sexual predators should be held accountable for their actions.  The legal system should rightly intervene.  At the same time, it needs to be recognized that predators were often wounded as children.  If we, as a society, want them to not commit similar offenses, then the soul wound they carry is in need of healing so that they don’t harm others.

I understand that many people have a deep fear and loathing for sexual predators.  While children need to be kept safe from victimization as well as all sorts of harm, predators carry deep wounds of their own.   Isolation does not lead to healing a wound so deep in shatters the soul.  Both accountability and compassionate support can lead to breaking the cycle of sexual abuse.  Sexual abuse isn’t simply an individual action.  Instead, it is a cycle passed generation to generation.  Our children will be safe when the cycle is broken.

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