When Survival Looks Like Consent: The Sexual Abuse No One Talks About
- Updated: May 19, 2025
There are things I didn’t realize were abuse until decades later.
Like being told, “this will be easy or the hard way,” while I was pushed into a hotel room.
Like thinking I had a choice when I never really did.
Or how my mother’s behavior made me easy prey—training me, not protecting me.
I used to think sexual abuse had to be violent. That it had to come from a stranger.
But now I know: coercion wears a thousand faces. And sometimes, abuse sounds like consent because you’ve been trained not to say no.
Especially if you’re a high-performing woman.
Yes, you if your success masked your survival.
And especially if you thought you were the one in control.
This piece isn’t here to sensationalize. It’s here to tell the truth—about the quiet grooming, the subtle violations, the performative consent that’s still very much trauma.
Because even if the memories are hazy…
Even if the sex looked consensual…
Even if it happened in your 30s, 40s, or 50s…
If it left you hollow, confused, or ashamed—then it left a mark. And it deserves to be named.
Honest Answers About Sexual Abuse and Healing
How Trauma Rewires the Mind (Even When You Don’t Realize It)
Sexual trauma doesn’t always come with screaming or bruises.
Sometimes, it comes with subtle grooming. With blurred lines. With a slow, corrosive drip of confusion that trains your body to dissociate and your mind to comply.
Maybe you were told it was your fault.
Perhaps you were praised for being “mature for your age.”
You went along with it because resistance felt too dangerous—or you honestly didn’t know you could say no.
This isn’t hypothetical.
It happens in hotel rooms. In boardrooms. In bedrooms that once felt safe.
And it happens to women who are smart, successful, accomplished.
Women who lead. Women who smile on the outside while slowly dying on the inside.
Because here’s the thing: trauma doesn’t care about your résumé.
It doesn’t care if you’re grown. It doesn’t care if you said yes when you wanted to say nothing at all.
The Body Keeps Score—Quietly
When your body has been sexualized before it was respected, it learns to overfunction. It learns to seek control, attention, or intensity just to feel something familiar. Sometimes that shows up as hypersexuality. Sometimes it looks like emotional freezing or avoidance. Other times, it means saying “yes” just to avoid another punishment.
Not all survivors spiral into reckless behavior.
But many carry a quiet compulsion—a need to feel useful, desired, or in control—even when it costs them their dignity.
The effects are often invisible:
Saying yes to sex you didn’t want, just to keep the peace
Feeling shame during intimacy, even with someone you love
Assuming “consent” is your only form of power
If this is landing heavy, you’re not alone.
And it’s not too late to name what happened—even if it happened years ago in a setting that looked consensual from the outside.
When someone has been sexually abused at a young age, they might become extra sensitive to sexual feelings. This could make them crave those feelings again, even if it's not safe or good for them.
When Survival Looks Like Consent (And Nobody Notices)
Let’s be clear: just because someone looks sexually confident—or even willing—doesn’t mean they’re free.
After abuse, especially the kind that starts young or gets reinforced over decades, the body becomes fluent in one language: compliance. You learn how to please. How to perform. How to avoid rejection, humiliation, or harm by reading people’s cues and giving them what they want—even when it costs you something.
This doesn’t always show up as “promiscuity.”
Sometimes it looks like:
Saying yes to sex you don’t want—just to avoid being abandoned
Initiating intimacy just to feel close, even when you’re emotionally numb
Freezing during sex and dissociating, then blaming yourself afterward
Believing sex is the only way to be safe, loved, or seen
You don’t have to be reckless to be hurting.
You can be married. You can be powerful. You can be decades into your career and still carry the imprint of early violations.
We even see this play out in pop culture.
It’s easy to look at women like Cassie Ventura or Bianca Censori and think, Well, they said yes. They stayed. They knew what they were doing.
But what if we’re witnessing coercion dressed up as consent?
What if the image, the parties, the “choices” were survival?
What if grooming made it feel normal?
Just because someone complies doesn’t mean they feel safe.
Just because someone says yes doesn’t mean it wasn’t a performance scripted by years of unhealed trauma.
And this doesn’t just happen to famous women.
It happens to leaders. To caregivers. To high-performing women in their 30s, 40s, 50s and beyond—who’ve been told they’re strong but never given space to be safe.
The truth is: if your nervous system was wired to survive, then your ‘yes’ might’ve been a trauma response.
And that deserves to be named—not judged.
💌 Want more grounded, no-fluff conversations about healing and leadership?
I write regularly about the hidden emotional patterns that affect our relationships, bodies, and work.
If this piece resonates, you might want to stay connected.
👉 Join my newsletter here – I’d love to have you.
Before We Talk About Healing, Let’s Tell the Truth
I want to pause here before we move forward—because this part matters.
I’m not sharing my story to be sensational.
Trust, I’m not writing this for shock value or clicks.
I’m sharing because I know what it’s like to be the smart one. The married one. The mother. The professional.
And still flinch at the wrong kind of touch.
Still have flashbacks during intimacy.
Still feel your body lock up when a man looks at you a certain way—even after years of therapy, growth, and good love.
The truth is: healing doesn’t erase everything.
It softens the sting. It quiets the panic.
But there are moments—still—that catch me off guard.
And I’ve accepted that some of these scars may never fully fade.
That doesn’t make me broken.
It makes me honest.
There’s a lie in our culture that says if you survived it, you should be over it.
But what if you didn’t move past it—what if you just went numb?
What if your “resilience” was just your nervous system shutting down so you could keep going?
Our society doesn’t know what to do with women who remember.
So it asks us to be silent.
To smile.
To press forward—for everyone’s convenience but our own.
But here’s the truth no one told many of us:
If you’re still struggling, you’re not weak.
You’re waking up.
And that means you’re ready to heal.
So if you’ve used workaholism, over-eating, sex, control, or performance to cope—this next part is for you. Not to fix you. But to walk with you as you learn how to stop abandoning yourself.
The Internal Work: Coming Home to Yourself
External support helps—but it can only take you so far.
At some point, you have to turn inward.
Not to judge yourself. Not to fix yourself.
But to finally witness the parts of you that had to go quiet just to survive.
This is the part no one can do for you—but you don’t have to do it all at once.
Here are some internal strategies that have helped me and the women I’ve worked with:
1. Learn to Sit with What You Feel
If your trauma made you numb, angry, or checked out, you’re not defective—you’re adaptive.
But healing asks you to feel what you spent years avoiding. That might mean rage. Grief. Shame. Or a hollow ache that has no words yet.
Start small. Name the emotion. Breathe through it. You’re not weak for feeling it—you’re finally letting it surface.
2. Build a Coping Toolkit That Serves You
Not all “coping” is created equal.
Some of us learned to cope by overworking, binge eating, isolating, or people-pleasing. And we wonder why we still feel empty.
Try this instead:
-
Journal the thoughts you’re afraid to say aloud
-
Go for a walk and let your body move without a goal
-
Use breathwork, grounding, or creative rituals to release emotion safely
Coping should calm your nervous system—not punish your body.
3. Recognize Your Triggers Without Shaming Yourself
Triggers aren’t signs you’ve failed. They’re signs you’re healing.
Your body is trying to protect you the only way it knows how.
Instead of spiraling into self-blame, learn to track your reactions:
-
What patterns set you off?
-
What sensations return you to past experiences?
When you know your triggers, you can respond with compassion—not control.
4. Challenge the Shame That Was Never Yours
One of the cruelest legacies of sexual abuse is internalized shame.
You blame yourself for what happened. For what you did to cope. For what you didn’t stop.
But let me be clear:
Your shame is a scar—not a truth.
And every time you speak that shame out loud, it loses a little of its grip.
5. Create Boundaries Like Your Life Depends on It (Because It Does)
Your body, your time, your needs—they matter.
Healing means learning how to say:
“That doesn’t feel right.”
“I’m not available for that.”
“I don’t need to explain why.”
Boundaries aren’t walls—they’re safety.
They’re how you tell the world (and yourself): I am worth protecting.
6. Be Patient with the Part of You That Still Feels Stuck
Some days you’ll feel powerful. Other days you’ll feel like you’re drowning in old memories. That’s not regression—it’s integration.
Healing isn’t linear.
You’ll loop. You’ll stall. You’ll rage.
And then, quietly, you’ll realize: you’re not reacting the way you used to.
That’s healing.
Give yourself permission to enjoy the progress.
Now is the time to embrace you, fully.
🧠 Healing isn’t just emotional. It’s physical, too.
If you’re ready to gently rebuild your relationship with sex and your body, read:
Reclaiming Your Sexual Health After Trauma
Healing Isn’t Solo Work: External Support Matters
Let’s be real—this kind of trauma doesn’t heal in silence.
It thrives in secrecy. It festers when you keep pretending you’re “fine.”
That’s why finding safe, trauma-informed support isn’t optional—it’s essential.
Here are two ways to begin building the external scaffolding for your healing:
1. Therapy That Actually Gets It
You don’t need to tell your story to just anyone.
You need someone trained to help you untangle what happened without retraumatizing you in the process.
I strongly recommend working with a trauma-informed therapist—especially one trained in EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) or somatic-based modalities. These tools go beyond talk therapy. They help your body release what it never got to process safely.
A good therapist won’t rush your story.
They won’t judge your behavior.
They’ll walk with you at the pace your nervous system can handle.
2. Support That Doesn’t Center Shame
Healing also happens in community—but not all “support” is created equal.
You need spaces where people know how to sit in silence.
Who don’t flinch at the truth.
Who’ve lived through similar darkness and aren’t here to fix you, just to see you.
For some, that might be a 12-step group like Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous, Celebrate Recovery, or Codependents Anonymous.
For others, it’s a trauma-informed spiritual group, a trusted circle of friends, or a peer-led support community.
You’re not looking for a place to vent—you’re looking for a place to be witnessed.
Honest Answers About Sexual Abuse and Healing
1. What if I said yes? Was it still abuse?
Yes, it can be.
If you felt pressured, coerced, emotionally manipulated, or groomed—then that “yes” wasn’t truly free.
Survival often sounds like compliance.
What matters is not the words you said, but the power dynamic you were trapped inside.
You don’t have to justify your pain to name it.
👉 Consider reading: Why Self-Trust Feels Impossible After Trauma
2. Can I be in a stable relationship and still be affected by past abuse?
Absolutely.
You can have a loving partner, fulfilling career, even a joyful life—and still flinch during sex, freeze when touched the wrong way, or feel waves of shame that don’t make sense.
That doesn’t mean you’re broken.
It means your nervous system is still protecting you.
And yes—you can keep healing, even if it still shows up sometimes.
3. How do I know if I’ve been groomed?
Grooming often hides in kindness.
It’s when someone builds trust, dependency, or emotional obligation so they can later cross boundaries.
It can look like:
Giving you too much attention too soon
Testing your boundaries under the guise of “love”
Making you feel special, then controlling your access to them
If you’ve ever felt emotionally trapped before anything physical happened—you may have been groomed.
👉 For more, read: Loyalty Trauma Bonds: When Staying Committed Becomes Self-Betrayal
4. Why do I overwork, overeat, or over-please people—and what does that have to do with trauma?
Because unprocessed sexual trauma often hides in everyday compulsions.
If your safety was compromised, you may have learned to seek control in other areas:
Achievement
Productivity
These are not moral failings.
They’re survival strategies.
And once you name them, you can start to unravel the shame.
👉 You might also appreciate: How to Set Emotional Boundaries
5. What if I can’t remember everything clearly? Does that mean it didn’t happen?
Not at all.
Memory after trauma is often fragmented. It’s not always linear.
Your body might remember what your brain blocked out—through triggers, shutdowns, or strange emotional waves that don’t seem to match the moment.
You don’t need a full memory to honor what your body is telling you now.
Truth doesn’t always arrive in a straight line.
Final Thoughts: You’re Not Late to Your Healing
If you’ve made it this far, I just want to say this:
I see you.
You’re not behind. You’re not weak. You’re not too late.
You’ve survived things that never should’ve happened.
You’ve carried weight that wasn’t yours.
And maybe you’ve done what I did—turned the pain into productivity, perfection, or performance.
But underneath all of that is someone worthy of safety.
Of slowness.
Of softness.
Healing isn’t about being unbothered.
It’s about becoming more honest with yourself.
Less reactive. More rooted.
Able to tell the truth—even if it shakes.
You don’t have to perform for love anymore.
You don’t have to earn your right to rest.
And you don’t have to keep pretending you’re okay if you’re not.
I’m not here to fix you.
I’m here to walk with you, if you’re ready for that.
A Quiet Invitation Forward
If this stirred something in you, you’re not alone.
I work with women every day who’ve spent years surviving in silence—and are finally ready to reconnect with their truth.
💛 Work with me, Denise G. Lee – We won’t rush. We won’t perform. We’ll get honest about what’s underneath the exhaustion and learn how to hold it with clarity and compassion.
👉 Explore healing together
🎙️ Prefer to listen first?
You can also find more raw, restorative conversations on my podcast.
👉 Introverted Entrepreneur – wherever you stream
You don’t have to have it all figured out to begin.
You just have to want more peace than performance.
