Sandusky casts an abusive shadow over many people--not just his own victims.

It's difficult listening to Jerry Sandusky--not only denying his crimes--but turning himself into the victim and accusing his victims of lying and conspiring against him.

It's very sad, but I know from experience--that Jerry Sandusky's modus operandi is very typical of abusers. I have seen these tactics before and I have heard these same dramatic denials and victim-attacks from the man who sexually abused me when I was a child

I confronted my perpetrator, my father. Not only did he sexually abuse me, but he allowed his friends to sexually abuse me. Much of my childhood is blocked from my memory--and I have about ten total minutes of memory of my father. It has caused me such horrible anguish, ten years in therapy, horrible flashbacks, paralyzing nightmares and a PTSD diagnosis.

When I confronted my father--he didn't just deny reality. He proceeded to engage in an Oscar-worthy performance in which the tables were turned on me. I was the horrible person who was conspiring to destroy his life. To add further drama, my father took my mother to a priest--to discuss their unruly daughter. The priest advised them, "Sometimes it's just better to let people go." Relatives revealed to me that my father moped around the house and lamented that I was a horrible person who was lying. My mother sided with my father and I haven't spoken to her since the confrontation. My siblings were told to never speak to me again. They are all broken in their own ways--one with a raging eating disorder, one tried to commit suicide and another is married to an abusive man. I have no relationship with any of them now. My mother asked my sisters if my father abused them, and apparently they refused to answer.

My parents are upper income people. Business owners. They've made the decision to bash me and position me as the family crazy person--because they choose to protect themselves when people ask why they haven't talked to me. Thrown in the trash as a child, and thrown in the trash again as a grown adult. Whatever it takes to perpetuate the silence.

So I do understand what it feels like--when a monster steals your childhood and then re-victimizes you after you dare to speak the truth. I have lost so much. The fall out--has been just as bad as the abuse. If you decide to end the silence--you are re-traumatized--a glaring reminder that you grew up with someone who had absolutely no regard for your humanity--and viewed you as nothing more than a dispensable object.

I was adopted by these people--at birth. So really, I have no parents. However, I like to think of myself as a child of the universe. After ten years of therapy, I have a wonderful life with a terrific, supportive husband--and two beautiful daughters of my own. I'm the matriarch of a new, healthy family--and I'm proud that I carved out my own path.

However, it is not easy, especially on days like this. Sandusky's words are a reminder of my own pain--and also the pain of many victims. Repeated statistics show that one in four women; and one in seven men--were sexually abused as children. Most victims know or live with their perpetrators.

I have sat in support groups--listening to women and men tell their stories of childhood sexual abuse. Their fathers and stepfathers--usually upstanding members of the community--always, always deny their crimes to their victims. I have never heard a victim recount how their perpetrator admitted his crimes and held himself to account. I still find this part of recovery so astounding. It's something you never really get over. The pain on their faces is gut-wrenching.

With Sandusky, we see how denial, lies and re-abuse of the victim plays out. He is typical of how these animals act toward the victims who muster the courage to fight back and break the silence.

I tell my story--because I refuse to be silent, when I remained so for decades. I won't shut up. I won't protect these goons anymore. I won't be afraid. And to anyone else who has endured any kind of childhood abuse--please know that it wasn't your fault--no matter how hard your perpetrator tried to convince you otherwise.

We are strong. There is healing. There is hope. And you were smart enough to have survived. You are here, and you belong here.

I wish all of us continued healing and peace always--and especially on days like this--where Sandusky's hurtful words serve as painful reminders.