Incest doesn’t just happen and then leave. It lingers. It shapes you. It becomes you—until you realize you are walking through life carrying the weight of someone else’s violation.

When the person who was supposed to protect you becomes the one who hurts you, the wound isn’t just physical—it’s spiritual, emotional, cellular. It is a betrayal so profound that it fractures the soul and leaves holes in the very foundation of who you thought you were. And for many of us, we spend years—decades even—not knowing that what we’re battling is the residue of incestuous abuse.

It doesn’t just go away. It embeds itself.

Let’s talk about what this really does to us. Not the version you read in textbooks. The real aftermath. The parts we’re ashamed of. The parts we hide. The parts we think make us unlovable.

The Lingering Scars

Complex Trauma (C-PTSD) is the quiet undertow that follows incest. It’s not just one moment of horror—it’s repeated violations inside a twisted narrative of love, loyalty, secrecy, and survival. When your abuser is someone who says they love you, your mind breaks in ways you can’t even articulate.

You may not call it trauma at first. You might just think you’re too sensitive, too emotional, too angry, too anxious. But here’s what often hides beneath the surface:

Emotional Dysregulation

You cry when you’re not supposed to. You feel too much—or nothing at all. You bottle everything up until you explode, or you drown in waves of feelings you can’t name. Emotions become either too sharp or completely numb.

Self-Loathing Masquerading as Personality

You become who the trauma told you to be: quiet, pleasing, perfect, invisible. You carry shame that was never yours. You apologize for your existence. You believe the lie that you are broken, dirty, unworthy of love. You don’t just feel guilt—you become guilt.

Dysfunctional Relationships

Love feels unsafe. Trust is foreign. Intimacy triggers the body in ways you don’t understand. You either cling or push people away. You love too hard or not at all. And sometimes, you unconsciously recreate the very pain you swore you’d never go through again—because chaos feels familiar.

Dissociation

There are whole parts of your life you don’t remember. You leave your body without moving a muscle. You smile through pain. You function—but you’re not fully here. Because being here, in this body, in this reality… hurts.

Mental Health Struggles

Anxiety. Depression. Addiction. Eating disorders. The world calls them “conditions.” But we know better. These are coping mechanisms. Survival strategies. Desperate attempts to outrun the ghosts in our chest.

Physical Pain That Speaks What Words Can’t

Migraines. Fatigue. IBS. Chronic pain. The trauma didn’t just steal your childhood—it tries to steal your health, too. The body keeps screaming long after the abuse stops.

Let me say this loud and clear:

You are not weak. You are not crazy. You are not broken.

You are traumatized. And that’s a very different thing.

The Road to Healing (Even If You Don’t Know Where to Start)

No one hands you a map for how to rebuild yourself after incest. But I want you to know—healing is possible. It’s not linear, it’s not fast, and it sure as hell isn’t pretty. But it is sacred.

Here’s what helped me—and what might help you:

Trauma-Informed Therapy

Not just any therapist. A guide who sees the whole you. Someone trained in trauma, who won’t gaslight you with “forgiveness” before you’ve even processed the pain. EMDR, somatic therapy, inner child work—there are many paths. But the goal is the same: to remember, release, and reclaim.

Safe Community

Isolation is the trauma’s best friend. Connection is its enemy. Whether it’s a support group, a survivor circle, or one trusted soul who believes you—find your people. Your healing accelerates when your story is witnessed without judgment.

Radical Self-Care

This isn’t just bubble baths. This is survival. Resting. Saying no. Eating food that nourishes you. Moving your body to release stuck energy. Getting outside. Journaling. Breathing. Listening to the part of you that still knows what safety feels like.

Boundaries, Boundaries, Boundaries

Boundaries are not walls—they are doors you choose to open or close. You get to decide who has access to you now. You are allowed to protect your peace.

Grace and Patience

There will be days when you feel like you’re drowning again. It doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It means you’re human. Be gentle with yourself. Hold space for the messy. Celebrate every small victory. Every step counts.

You Are Not Your Trauma

You are not what happened to you. You are what survived it.

And the fact that you’re here, reading this, means you are already on your way back to yourself. The path is long. But you don’t have to walk it alone.

You’re not too damaged to heal. You’re not too late to change. And your story doesn’t end in pain—it can be rewritten in power.

I’m living proof of that.

And so are you.