Finding Self-Forgiveness on Fantasy Island
by Andrea Bufkin
If you hold fast to my teachings, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth and the truth will set you free.
In today's culture, when we speak of truth, all too often, people respond with "what is truth?" This question is meant to avoid accountability or face uncomfortable situations. The same desire to avoid accountability and discomfort keeps us trapped in a place of hurt and brokenness.
Recently I watched the remake of the 1980's television show Fantasy Island (2020), where hurt and brokenness abound. The story follows a group of people who win a contest to visit an island where all of your fantasies come true. They soon discover that their dreams brought to life turn into horrific living nightmares they must try to survive.
On Fantasy Island, businesswoman Gwen Olsen (Maggie Q) realizes that she accidentally caused a fire in her apartment that resulted in the death of her neighbor, Nick Taylor (Evan Evagora). She recognized that fellow contest winner, Patrick Sullivan (Austin Stowell), as the police officer on the scene that horrific night, who refused to run into the burning building to save Nick.
It turns out that another contestant, Melanie Cole (Lucy Hale), was supposed to have a date with Nick the night of the fire, but was stood up because he died. Melanie arranged Fantasy Island's entire event for revenge against the other contestants for contributing to Nick's death.
While watching the movie, I realized that it was the character’s failure to forgive and hanging on to bitterness that ultimately led to Melanie's revenge. It reminded me of my own path to healing and forgiveness, understanding that I had to choose to forgive my abuser and move on. To move on, I had to forgive myself as well for my perceived role in my abuse.
The Island. Image courtesy of @marcusdallcol via Unsplash.
Early in elementary school, I began being sexually molested by an older male relative. This abuse went on for a couple of years. At one point, my abuser even invited a teenage neighbor to join in, referring to the abuse as "our game."
I had no idea that I was being abused. "Our game," as he called it, felt good physically, so I participated. There were even times that I asked to play. It was this seemingly voluntary participation that would wrap me in self-destructive guilt and shame for the next thirty years. I remained in bondage until, through the help of a counselor, I finally accepted the fact that the abuse was not my fault.
As a seven-year-old girl with no concept of sex, much less appropriate sexual boundaries, I was not responsible for what an older male coerced me into doing. I began the journey of forgiving myself for my abuse because I could finally tell the truth about what had happened for the first time in fifteen years of counseling. I told the counselor about asking to play "our game." That one decision, to shine the light on the entire truth of the situation, especially the darkest, most painful parts, allowed the shackles of shame and condemnation to be stripped away, beginning my journey towards freedom from the abuse.
This is only the beginning of my story, though. After the abuse began, this relative told me he would get in terrible trouble if anybody found out. So, as a loving child, I not only asked to play our game, but I was also tasked with protecting my abuser. The last thing I wanted was to be the cause of trouble and pain for him. The burden of this responsibility would keep me silent for years.
Having only told one other person in my life, I decided to share my abuse with my first husband in a moment when he shared long-held hurts from his childhood. My codependency wanted so badly to love him enough that he would be able to overcome his past hurts. So at that moment, I told him.
Two years later, after having our son, and now pregnant with our daughter, I found myself in court disputing an unrelated matter. In the middle of my questioning, his attorney asked me, "Is it true you were sexually abused by (the male relative's name) as a child?"
At that moment on the stand, my deepest trust violated for no purpose other than to hurt me publicly, with my father sitting nearby, just as stunned at the question as I was; all I could think to do was deny and defend my abuser. I felt that it was my job to protect my abuser from the consequences of what he had done to me. I felt it was my job to protect my parents from the deep pain this knowledge would cause them. I had to take care of everybody but myself. After all, it was just as much my fault, right? I had asked to play the game.
After court, my father met me in the hall; with tears in his eyes, he asked, "Is that true? Were you molested by this relative?" Faced once again with the opportunity to utter the words that would begin my journey towards freedom, drowning in guilt, shame, and condemnation, I heard myself say, "Of course it's not true, Daddy. He's just trying to hurt me." At that point, my father told me to prepare this relative for what had been said. He said, "This testimony is now public record, and your relative will find out. He will not be able to handle this emotionally. You need to go prepare him."
I dutifully went one-on-one, and told him what had been said. I saw the fear wash over his face, and tears fill his eyes. Without him having even responded, I said, "But we know it's a lie. We know that never happened. It's just something he made up to hurt me."
I had been sexually abused for approximately two years, offered up to a neighbor, protected my abuser, convinced myself it was my fault, pretended it didn't happen, pretended it didn't affect me. I had my trust violated in court, lied to my father to protect him and my abuser, and now I'd let my abuser entirely off the hook for any responsibility. I did all of this because I didn't want to acknowledge that it had happened at all. Much less, that it had any actual effect on me.
Years later, I found myself in a counselor's office again. After talking about my abuse for years, this day was the first time I told anybody that I had requested to play "our game," and thus, I shared culpability. My counselor then asked me this question: "If one of your pre-teen daughters came to you and told you somebody had been abusing them, then told you they had even asked to play the game, what would you say to them?"
With tears streaming down my face at the thought, I said, "I would hold them and tell them it wasn't their fault. They are just little girls." And at that moment, I knew. I knew I had to hold my seven-year-old self and tell her it wasn't her fault. I had to forgive her for what she did unknowingly as a little girl. I had to love her the way I would one of my girls. I had to fight for her, defend her against the continued abuse- from the lies about what happened to who was responsible. I had to begin the journey of setting myself free by releasing my seven-year-old self from a burden that was never true, that was never hers to carry. I had forgiven my abuser years before, but I was finally able to forgive myself, the little girl. She was the very last one I needed to forgive. I was able to offer that forgiveness because I spoke the truth to myself and someone else.
In 2011 I met and married my husband. Before we were married, I told him about the abuse. Over the last nine years, he has walked with me, encouraged me to take steps I didn't want to take, and loved me through it all. He helped me talk through and type this article. It was the decision, to tell the truth, all of the truth, that began my journey towards freedom. I've had difficult conversations with my parents. I've had difficult conversations with my abuser, kids, friends, and anybody else I thought needed to hear. None of these conversations have ever happened out of a place of bitterness or a sense of vengeance. I have never sought to harm, but rather to speak the truth in love so that others know they do not have to live in shame and condemnation because the truth will set them free.
The journey towards freedom will not be comfortable, and often it will not be quick, but it will always be worth it. There will be people who don't want to hear the truth. There may be people who are not supportive, encouraging, or helpful. Do not let them deter you from sharing the truth in love. If only Melanie had this same self-discovery and freedom, the trip to Fantasy Island would have been much different for not only her but the others as well.
Step 5 from Celebrate Recovery says,
"We admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs."
Admitting it to God is the easy part. Admitting it to ourselves and to someone we trust is more complicated.
I want to encourage you to face the thing you are most hurt by and afraid of. Do not let fear, shame, and condemnation dictate who you are, how you feel, and how you value yourself. You are so much more than your hurts, habits, and hang-ups.
You were created to walk in freedom. Will you begin that journey today? Let me encourage you to expect something different. Be truthful with yourself, then find somebody who loves you, somebody you can truly trust, and begin your journey towards healing.
RESOURCES:
https://store.newlife.com/p-189-healing-is-a-choice-revised-updated.aspx
Resources
We’ve created a free downloadable PDF to explore the article deeper. It contains discussion questions about the topic in general terms that will give you a jumping-off point for beginning a conversation.
The second page contains a way to see the topic from a biblical perspective.
And finally, to go deeper into the subject, we have chosen a few curated resources to explore from other authors’ and thinkers’ research or perspectives.
Read. Engage. Enjoy!
WHAT DO YOU THINK?
Depending on how a gem is held, light refracts differently. At B+PC we engage in Pop Culture topics to see ideas from a new angle, to bring us to a deeper understanding. And like Pastor Shane Willard notes, we want “…Jesus to get bigger, the cross to get clearer, the Resurrection to be central…” Instead of approaching a topic from “I don’t want to be wrong,“ we strive for the alternative “I want to expand my perspective.”
So, we invite you to engage with us here. What piqued your curiosity to dig deeper? What line inspired you to action? What idea made you ask, “Hmmm?” Let’s join with our community to wrestle with our thoughts in love in the Comment Section! See you there!