I wish Michael Jackson's talent had been able to develop in a balance where music had been the language and key to heaven and we had been able to travel back and forth between these two hitherto split realities. Now the door to hell has been opened and we don't know how to lock it anymore. Hell breaks loose when we talk about it.......................................

One hundred percent recognizable. 

Just when a man with such a worldwide more than musical influence appears on stage in a side that nobody wants to see. Neither do I. Still, I watched.

Sexuality is an uncomfortable subject. I say it all the time, I prefer to look away from it when it gets uncomfortable.

But if it had been a priest in this docu, would the fuss of denying screamers have been different, like a commentary on social media wondered?

How does that work if you have been sexually abused?

Is it wise to make myself vulnerable here again?

Yes, because as long as our entire society still reacts this way to sexual abuse, something fundamental is divided in our society. 

Do we subconsciously allow the sexual abuse to manifest itself in the invisible shadow and deliberately place the other part of sexuality in a superposition so that the logic of the total picture of sexuality becomes unbalanced? That's where the complex but logical confusion lies of omitting/dividing what belongs together. Sexuality is a whole. Is it now as quantum mechanics in particles and is emotion a splitting agent or a binding agent?

What makes the feelings surrounding sexual abuse so heated?

I also know it: don't say it is. I played myself in the knot. The perpetrator has the power. And gets the power. Got it from me too. It made me desperate and I didn't do anything about it, paralyzingly.

The lie, the silence, the denial has been stronger than the complete truth for years. Anything better than that, because what had been cut loose I couldn't get together and by saying one thing or the other the chaos only got bigger.

That is why I know the incoherent nature of the message that I sent out myself. A split message. Because every logic has been nipped in the bud.

And that's why the criticism I got was not nice but better than the vortex of fear that I would lose all control in my body.

Then let that body be just what I, as a physiotherapist, had to deal with on a daily basis.  The body that never lies but that I could no longer understand myself.

The insufferability that it was precisely then that fellow doctors seemed inaccessible to the physical aspects of sexual abuse.

My body has stored this in her memory flawlessly and has had it signalled to her in a symptomatology that is incomprehensible to the physicians. 

Now, after so many years and so much collected physical data, it is time to organise and organise the psychologically and physically collected data so that the truth becomes a matter of trust. Because the boundary of trust lies in the sincere relationship to the healthy distrust of being able and allowed to say no when safety is at stake. 

The perpetrator had such a strong influence on something I didn't know and at the same time gave me a feeling that I had the most intense bond with the perpetrator I could think of. Apparently it stimulated my body pleasantly although the maturity was far from ready for it. And it silenced my own decisiveness in the making.

There was a split between body and psyche.  A dead NO, I am not allowed to choose myself. At an age where there is no choice in sexuality.

What is truth?

I had also lost my mind. The only truth was the apparent safety in which I thought I lived. To maintain what at least kept me afloat.

Not even a matter of admitting but really not knowing what to admit.

I didn't even recognize the words and the meaning that my environment asked or gave as such, so I denied it. 

How can you say that you can't say that you haven't learned to say...

If you don't speak English, you can still learn to say "I don't speak English" in that language, and even then people are going to keep talking fast. But you can't say that you don't speak sexuality when someone else has already mowed it away from your feet and has taken you into use. How do you say you're split when you've got the plug and you don't even have it in?  It has been taken out and you are kept alive as an incubator child.

But what is the next step?

How do the victims get out?

Because there is a way out. And above all, not only from pampering or reframing or EMDR and, IEMT and cognitively changing your behaviour, but from a total package in which the deepest layer of the affected conflict is turned around with help but is passed through by yourself.

A safe descent to the catacombs of your existence. Where the perpetrator was able to destroy your sexuality development in one fell swoop, to split it up.

Then you actually need someone to help you pick up all the shards in order to carefully reorganize because there are also shards of the perpetrator in between that seem to be the cement of the catacombs.

Society is still in the very first phase of discovering sexual abuse. Victims are often already going further, but need help, expertise from society as well, to be able to reintegrate. Much is still in imbalance but there are therapists, experts with experience who are professionals in the recovery of these traumas. Traumas that affect everyone, even when you have not been abused. Because there are also rapists, criminals and many (potential) ignorant victims.

The time has come to connect music, the composer, the musician and the enjoyable listener in an equal way.

Because it is possible, even if it is very tough and we all have a lot of damage to clean up from all the suffering that is still there.