You’re not alone! My name is Randy Boyd and I am a 53 year old survivor of childhood sexual, emotional, verbal, physical and spiritual abuse.

My name is Randy Boyd and I am a 53 year old survivor of childhood sexual, emotional, verbal, physical and spiritual abuse. This is third of my three-part story.

While I was being constantly physically and sexually abused at home, my mother and stepfather, Jack, had become “Born Again Christians.” The spiritual abuse was as bad as the sexual and physical abuse. My mother and stepfather used the bible and “God” as not only a tool but weapon against me. I literally had the “Fear of God” instilled so deep into the fiber of my being, I eventually grew to hate and despise God. This is to say the God they were teaching me about. We were all going to church, twice on Sunday and to one or two prayer meetings/bible studies as well as a youth group during the week. I was being told not to judge people, yet this same congregation would tell me if you did not believe in their God, you would burn in hell, being very specific about other religions such as Buddhism, Jewish, Catholicism—all other religions; I was being brain washed. They talked about being loving and kind to each other, yet what I saw was a lot of people who, as I like to say, Love you on Sunday and F____ you on Monday. Hell I could not even surf on Sunday because they thought I was worshiping “another” God.   I felt I was getting closer to God when I was in the ocean enjoying the natural beauty and energy that God provided for our enjoyment. The bible term “thy rod and thy staff” was used literally against me in the beatings I received from Jack.

Jack and my mother were counseled on a weekly basis by the minister of our church. He would come over once a week, and the three of them would sit in front of our house in his little Blue Maverick and have their “Counseling” session. One night the minister walked into the house to greet us as he always did. As he turned to leave, he asked me and Jack to come out to the car instead of my mother and Jack. I sat in the back seat and Jack and the minister were in the front seat. The minister turned to me and said, “Jack has told me what has been going on between the two of you sexually. I just want to tell you that it is all part of growing up and it does not mean you are homosexual.” I remember how I sunk down in my seat; the overwhelming feeling of shame overtook me. I wanted to kill both of them. “It’s part of growing up and I’m not homosexual!” I knew I was not homosexual and as far as part of growing up, what exactly did Jack tell him, or better yet, what did he “NOT” tell him. The minister of the church was condoning what my stepfather was doing.

My family felt my choice of music was pagan. Once I went on a trip with one of my friends, so I put all my eight track tapes in my headboard so they would not get stolen. These were tapes I had worked for and bought with my own money.

When I got home, they were all gone except one, a Jim Croce tape. When I asked my mother where they were, she said she took them and threw them away. When I asked her why, she replied, “Because it’s all devil music.” I had the brilliant idea to call the sheriff on her for theft. When they arrived I told them what had happened and they told mother. I argued the fact that I had worked to earn the money to buy all those tapes myself, only to have them tell me she was my mother and I was only 17 years old. Later, I found out that my stepsister was at the house the day my mother destroyed my tapes and did everything possible to talk her out of doing it. She was able to convince her that Jim Croce was not a devil tape — that’s why that one was still in my headboard.

I had absolutely no voice growing up. Every time I tried to talk about how I felt, every time I disagreed with my parents, it resulted in either a severe beating, restriction or I was extremely discounted. It was made very clear to me that my feelings were not valid. I remember clearly the day Jack had gone on a rampage and was tearing the house apart. I ran out of the house, ran up and down the street screaming and asking neighbors to help, only to be turned away, ignored. I mentioned to people in the church how violent Jack was, only to have them tell me, “No, you can’t be right, Jack is too nice of a person, you must be mistaken.” So for those of you who are saying to yourself, “Why did he not tell someone what was going on and happening to him?” Well, I believe the answer is quite evident. I was constantly being accused of things I was not doing, I tried constantly to talk about how I felt and if I disagreed in any way with my parents, I would get beaten. My family’s minister told me that the sexual abuse was “just part of growing up.” My neighbors shut the the door on me and turned their backs on me when I asked for help.  When I told people about Jack’s violent outbursts, they would just discount me.  I knew if they would not believe these things, they would not believe me if I told them I was not only being beaten but sexually molested, raped as well?

I have come to understand the facts are this: there are thousands of cases of sexual abuse against boys, as well as girls, and they are not ever talked about for fear of what might happen to the family if people were to find out. I say too bad, what about the child’s life that is being destroyed, what about them? Our parents are supposed to raise us, protect us, comfort us and guide us on a “spiritual” path through life for a life of love and happiness, not a life of fear and despair. For many of you, you might just shrug a shoulder and think this is all nonsense, and for a lot of others, I know this all holds true. This is not just based on my experience of abuse, it is based on the other men and boys I have talked with that have been abused.

Growing up was not all bad. There were lots of good times and I never went without and until I turned to drugs and alcohol to numb all the pain and shame I was feeling from every form of abuse imaginable, I was a good student with close to straight “A’s”, I loved playing baseball, playing the guitar and having fun in life. When I started using drugs and alcohol, I lost a lot of that stuff. I did become very rebellious, however with good cause.  Living with this secret and the shame, along with the daily fear of what would happen each night — and feeling that I did not matter anyway — were all my reasons for doing what I did. I thank God that he watched over me for all these years and let me go down the road I had to go, to get to where I am today, and I thank God I came out as normal as I have. God has been by my side all my life and for that I am grateful.

I said growing up I never went without “stuff.” What I did not have, were loving parents. I would have given it all up for the gift of kind, gentle, teaching and loving parents. I often have conversations with a good friend, who unlike me, grew up very poor, yet had very loving and kind parents. I always tell him I would rather have loving parents than all the “stuff” I had. Both of us have grown up with problems of our own, however different they may seem, in a lot of ways they are the same, and both of us have grown into successful men contributing to society the way we should. We both are loving husbands and fathers, we both are successful contractors, we both have achieved more than we ever imagined, yet we have walked different paths and we are both recovering alcoholics. I am grateful to have friends like him in my life today.

Please if you have been abused in any way, please have the courage to speak up; you are not alone. As hard as it might be for you to do, I promise you it will be the best thing you can do for you! Know that I, as well as a group of other men, am here for you to walk this healing path with. Whether you are an adult male, adolescent or teen male, it is never too late or too early to begin your healing journey.
I am in the process of writing a book of my life story that will go into a lot more detail of my life and life journey. Let me know if you would be interested in reading it once it is published.

Remember, YOU ARE ENOUGH, YOUR NOT ALONE, IT IS NOT A PART OF GROWING UP AND “IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT”

If no one tells you they love you today, Randy does.

Thank you for reading my stories.

Namaste