Shattered Innocence:From Pain to Peace

The common understanding from any decent human being when it comes to children is the importance of recognizing that they are in a crucial phase of their development, characterized by rapid growth in physical, emotional, and cognitive abilities. During this time, toddlers are learning to navigate their world and develop their sense of self. By creating a nurturing atmosphere, we help toddlers build confidence, develop social skills, and foster a positive sense of self. At least that’s the expectation we hold—that our fundamental human instinct should be to protect rather than to cause harm or conflict. 

Unfortunately, this is not the reality for many children. It certainly wasn’t for me.

Before I begin, I want to provide a trigger warning for anyone who may be affected by the content of my story, which involves Child Sexual Abuse (CSA).

I was three years old when a close family friend molested me, shifting the course of my life forever. Unfortunately, I can't remember if this continued or if any further harm was done to me, but I do recall innocently expressing the incident to my mother one day when she was bathing me. I never saw the “man” again. In truth, we returned to Addis, my birthplace, from where the event occurred (Hawassa). Fortunately, as a three-year-old, I was too young to fully remember the experience from my childhood in Tigray.

What I recall is  being sexually objectified by adult men throughout my childhood and criticized for my body due to early development. I couldn't help my body shape. No amount of layering could cover me up. By age twelve, I had been 'taught' to defend myself from pedophile “grown men”who had no self-control, as it was deemed 'easier' to control me than to educate them.

Fast forward to 2007: my determined mother completed our visa process, and my brother and I moved to the United States. Even in the U.S., unwanted attention persisted. A simple walk felt like a nightmare.. So, what happened? We ended up in a suburban city—because clearly, that was the fix. As I started high school, my identity formed through friendships and interactions with boys.

These experiences reinforced my insecurities and made me feel that my worth was tied to my appearance. Unfortunately, this began when I was just three years old, so you can imagine how invisible and insecure my upbringing was. I didn’t grow up around people who filled my life with genuine love or who told me I was beautiful, smart, or valuable beyond my appearance. My emotional needs and desires were consistently ignored. I grew up missing the affection necessary to feel loved, confident, and important. The only attention and compliments I received were tied to my body.

So, I believed it. Fortunately, I was a quiet and shy teenager, so I steered clear of the high school sex scene with boys, even though I desperately sought a real connection and genuine attention. My nickname, 'Thickemes,' made it clear that finding the love I desired seemed unlikely.. When I did have my first true high school sweetheart, the relationship felt tainted by the idea that he was only interested in me because the incentive was my body—like some kind of bet among the guys at school. High school went on like that; I was just a background player, mostly ignored. But honestly, I was okay with it since I wasn’t interested in casual hookups. It turned out to be a blessing in disguise. 

However, during my teenage years, I developed an addiction to self-pleasure, which I recognized as a trauma response. For a long time, I struggled to control it.

Fast forward, In college, I experienced life differently. Although uninterested in casual hookups, I attracted men driven by lustful energy. I struggled to understand why I attracted men who took what they wanted and then left me emotionally empty.. Given my history, I mistook this for “true love.” I equated initial intense interest with love, feeling less attractive if a guy wasn't immediately passionate. I lacked guidance and didn't have anyone to show me what real love looked like. I questioned why I was like this, as I mentioned in my first blog. Despite my deep yearning for a soul connection, I spiritually knew my behavior was off. I just didn’t have any experience with true love to guide me.

It wasn't until a personality psychology class in undergrad, where a memory exercise revealed long-blocked memories, that I confronted the trauma. That moment brought to the surface the realization that my experience of sexual abuse had deeply damaged my mental and emotional self-esteem.

I needed confirmation about a troubling memory, unsure if I had imagined it or if it was real. So, I called my mother. I made it clear from the beginning that I wasn’t going to be angry with her and that I appreciated her protection, especially her decision to keep that “man” away from me. I asked her directly, “Did something happen to me as a child?” She struggled to answer, her voice trembling, but I insisted. I was ready to face the truth. When she finally confirmed it, despite her shaking voice, it felt like the happiest day of my life. Why? Because I finally had the answers I had been seeking for years. Acknowledging my trauma allowed my inner child and teenage self to start the healing journey.

After that moment, I was overwhelmed by a whirlwind of emotions: anger, sadness, depression, shock, betrayal—every feeling you can imagine. I was grieving for little Hewan. She didn’t deserve what happened, and neither did I. This added layer of trauma only deepened the depression I mentioned in Blog 1. To cope, I turned to marijuana. It numbed me, which I needed because I couldn’t let my emotions interfere with my studies, especially with finals approaching. But despite my efforts, I eventually crashed and ended up in a crisis counseling facility.

Fortunately, my Christian school showed grace, and I managed to finish with a 3.3 GPA. I was also assigned a therapist—my first ever. It was a crucial step, but it didn’t magically heal me. That was something I had to do on my own.

Finally, at the age of 26-27, I began to heal from my childhood trauma. Little Hewan, teenage Hewan, and young adult Hewan now work together with my higher self to understand, love, and protect myself, while also granting myself grace. After all, healing is a lifelong journey. It was up to me not to let my trauma "kill me." Even though I was a victim, staying stuck in that role wouldn’t help me. I had to decide to heal, because if I didn’t, it would have been my fault for choosing to remain in victimhood and self-pity.

What the fuck is the point of this Hewan, you must ASK?

The point of this blog is to demonstrate how unresolved childhood trauma can profoundly impact self-worth, relationship patterns, and mental health, leading to deep-seated emotional struggles. Many of us may not have individuals who can recall our past or who protected us, but the power to heal still lies within us. The choice to embark on this journey is a crucial step toward becoming a healed, loving, and empowered version of yourself. As mentioned in Blog 1, healing involves choosing yourself and removing the influences of past trauma, which can be a difficult and lonely process. However, the strength gained during this time will be essential in nurturing and protecting your future self. Embrace the journey with courage, knowing that each step brings you closer to profound self-discovery and growth. As you confront your own struggles, consider this:

What steps can you take today to honor your inner child and start transforming your pain into the foundation for a more empowered and authentic future?