After I was raped as a teen, I found myself in the care of a psychiatrist who changed the way I viewed sex. He was the very first person who got me to understand that the real damage from my personal experience wasn't the physical, that it was the emotional and psychological fallout that caused the lingering damage. He was also the first person who let me know that I could engage in sexual contact and be in complete control of that contact (with partners who were looking for exactly that.)
I recall being prompted to share what we'd talked about by parents/well-meaning adults (no, ma'am, he doesn't touch me... he's not that kind of doctor! etc..) and being taken out of his care when I wouldn't tell about which we spoke. The adults in my formative years were very much anti-psychiatrist/mental health professionals -- and as a result I was only in his care for a few months. I was there just as long as the court ordered and no longer.
I learned the base of my sexual understanding in his care: Sex is not dirty, what was done to me was a crime, and I had absolute control of my sexuality. Most of that was in direct opposition of what I was told by those near and dear, who found every recourse to remind me that stuff like rape didn't happen to Good Girls, that I couldn't have been a virgin because men don't rape virgins.
Anyway, I won't open those old wounds (and over-share as a result, as I'm wont to do), but I will say that I've been grateful my entire adult life for what I learned about myself, sexuality, and sexual responsibility during those few, short months in his care.
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Date: 2015-05-12 04:23 pm (UTC)I recall being prompted to share what we'd talked about by parents/well-meaning adults (no, ma'am, he doesn't touch me... he's not that kind of doctor! etc..) and being taken out of his care when I wouldn't tell about which we spoke. The adults in my formative years were very much anti-psychiatrist/mental health professionals -- and as a result I was only in his care for a few months. I was there just as long as the court ordered and no longer.
I learned the base of my sexual understanding in his care: Sex is not dirty, what was done to me was a crime, and I had absolute control of my sexuality. Most of that was in direct opposition of what I was told by those near and dear, who found every recourse to remind me that stuff like rape didn't happen to Good Girls, that I couldn't have been a virgin because men don't rape virgins.
Anyway, I won't open those old wounds (and over-share as a result, as I'm wont to do), but I will say that I've been grateful my entire adult life for what I learned about myself, sexuality, and sexual responsibility during those few, short months in his care.