By Talli Yehuda Rosenbaum, MSc
This guest article is written from a therapeutic perspective. It does not address halachic aspects of intimacy after sexual abuse. For a general discussion on preparing for marital intimacy, see here.
Content warning: This article touches on a number of very sensitive issues.
Humans long for both emotional and physical intimacy and are wired for connection. Most people want to experience a meaningful marital partnership that includes feeling secure, understood, and loved. Physical intimacy provides the opportunity to express that love with connection, joy, pleasure, satisfaction, playfulness, and, sometimes, even with a spiritual connection.
Being able to enjoy physical touch and sexual intimacy involves letting go, feeling secure while taking risks, and being in the moment with all your senses while trusting, accepting, and sharing. This requires feeling safe and relaxed in one’s own body. As Bessel Van Der Kolk, author of The Body Keeps the Score, states, “The ability to feel relaxed in one’s body requires the emotional experience of safety.” The embodied experience of relaxation and the emotional experience of safety are critical to experiencing attachment and connection.
Yet, for women and men who have experienced sexual violence and abuse, intimacy can feel very unsafe. Being on guard, and sometimes checking out and dissociating, is what has allowed abuse victims to survive, and the idea of “relinquishing control and getting lost in the moment” can be terrifying. Rather than associating physical intimacy with pleasure and connection, sex can trigger feelings of shame, disgust, aversion, and pain. Survivors of abuse may have ambivalent feelings about connecting through sex, especially if the person who abused them was a family member who was supposed to protect them and keep them safe. Healing from sexual abuse in order to experience both emotional and physical intimacy in a healthy way can occur, but it’s a journey.
Because of the restrictions on premarital sexual activity in Jewish law, often, as couples approach marriage, they are not yet aware of how a prior history of sexual abuse in either partner may affect their intimate lives. For some individuals, their abuse history has been long buried, and they have not processed the trauma of their abuse themselves, let alone shared it with their partners. Often the marriage itself, with the expectation that physical relations will commence, becomes a trigger of buried memories from the past.
For some couples, recognition of the impact of past sexual abuse on their intimate relationship may become apparent only years after marriage. Unfortunately, and often unknowingly, the dynamics of past abuse can get reenacted in the marital relationship. This happens when the spouse who was abused feels, as a result of the abuse, that sex is an obligation that is necessary to fulfill in order to be accepted or to receive love. They may have learned ways to distract themselves or to dissociate to get through sex. Often, the spouse, who does not have prior sexual experience with which to compare, is unaware that their spouse is disengaged. In most cases, however, there is a general awareness that something is “off” in the intimate connection.
Frequently, couples experiencing difficulty in their intimate lives will turn to sex counseling or sex therapy for help. They may not be aware of the impact of past trauma on their current sex life, or they may not consider trauma to be relevant because therapy was already provided in the past by a trauma therapist. Unfortunately, trauma therapy and sex therapy are often considered two distinct and separate disciplines. Trauma therapists may not necessarily address sexual health aspects of individual and relational healing. Conversely, individuals and couples may seek individual or couple sex therapy without awareness of their trauma history and its effect on sexual functioning.
If the counselor or therapist does not inquire about past sexual trauma or is not trauma trained or at least trauma “informed,” the interventions provided may actually further trigger symptoms or feel coercive. The trauma survivor may not feel entitled to question the intervention or explain that they are not ready or that it feels overwhelming to them. The survivor may respond by dissociating through the sessions and the interventions, or may discontinue the therapy. The sex therapy process must identify and address the injury to the survivor’s sexuality, before attempting to treat it. Even if trauma therapy for the abuse was provided, it may not have been sufficient to develop a healthy sense of sexuality, particularly if it occurred before engagement in sexual activity was considered to be relevant.
Even if the partner who was abused received individual trauma therapy, couples may need to learn together how to build a healthy and safe sexual relationship through couple therapy. A person who was abused may have distorted, confused, or conflicted ideas and feelings about sex. They may not feel entitled to boundaries around sex and may engage without desire, feeling only that it is an obligation, or they may look for ways to avoid any intimacy in order to not “lead to sex.” Their partner may feel shame for wanting to have sex, knowing how difficult it is for their spouse. Couple therapy can be critical in the healing journey towards safe emotional intimacy and mutually pleasurable and connecting physical intimacy. Learning how to communicate, stay present, use boundaries, and ensure consent are important parts of this process.
Often, abuse survivors wish to understand whether, when, and how to disclose their sex abuse history to their potential partners. While there is no one-size-fits-all answer to this question, it is important to recognize why it is being asked. Does one disclose because they want to share and feel close as part of the goal of building authenticity and emotional intimacy in the relationship? Or is it because they view what happened to them as information a potential partner is “entitled” to have? A trauma survivor may have been told it is important to let the potential spouse know during the dating or engagement period that they may not be ready to engage in sexual relations immediately after the wedding. Whether one “should” divulge their past sexual abuse is ideally up to the individual; the trauma survivor should decide what they want to expose and when. Feeling obligated to expose before one feels ready may reenact trauma, especially if the relationship ends as a result of the exposure. The concern that a partner “may feel deceived” perpetuates the idea that having been abused is a pathology and that one becomes “used goods” or will be “unable to perform.”
On the other hand, non-disclosure due to shame, self-blame, or fear of rejection may indicate that the relationship does not yet feel sufficiently secure. As such, there may be relational benefits in sharing this sensitive information. It is recommended to seek the counseling and support of a therapist to discuss questions related to sharing sensitive history. The partner can also benefit from guidance, in order to better respond in a supportive and containing manner.
It is also important to recognize that it is difficult to know in advance to what extent sexuality will be affected. Some people can commence a normal and healthy sex life after a sexual assault, with the full understanding that a loving relationship is very different from a sexual violation and may, in fact, provide a healing experience. On the other hand, there may be a history of non-sexual trauma that affects the ability to engage in emotional as well as physical intimacy. Therefore, rather than speak about disclosures, couples should see the process of sharing their life experiences, fears, and concerns as part of the process of building emotional trust, safety, and intimacy. It’s not just sharing information – it’s sharing a part of oneself that is very personal and vulnerable.
Trauma is not only what happened but what occurred in the aftermath. If child sexual abuse was disclosed to an adult, what was the reaction? Was there blaming or shaming? Were there messages received that “you caused it by dressing immodestly or staying out too late” or “you are now used goods”? In my clinical experience, what was done sexually to the child may be less impactful than how it was dealt with. When parents respond to and handle the situation appropriately, then trust is restored. This has implications regarding how partners respond to disclosures and knowing or learning to do so with validation and empathy.
It’s important to know that abuse can affect sex even if it isn’t explicitly sexual. Having a narcissistic parent who objectifies the child can create the adaptation of shutting down feelings – essentially, a freeze response. This can show up relationally, as not being able to feel or to connect, or sexually, as not feeling vitality or passion. An overly invasive parent who doesn’t respect boundaries, exposes their child’s secrets to their friends, and doesn’t protect their privacy can create the need to become hypervigilant and not “let anyone in.” These defenses can show up as tightness in the body and sometimes in the pelvic floor, which can affect the ability to comfortably allow penetrative intercourse to occur.
Even without significant past trauma, many newlywed couples are simply not ready to have sex immediately after marriage, and attempts to do so may create sexual trauma. Sexual trauma can be created by feeling the need to succeed in sex. The message that you must allow penetration to avoid the religious restriction of the spilling of seed is an example of a message that undermines autonomy and creates or reenacts sexual coercion. Couples should be careful to respect each other’s pace and readiness.
Sexual trauma may also occur at the beginning of marriage outside the bedroom. More than once, I have treated women with no history of sexual trauma, who, upon being unable to consummate the marriage, were sent to a bodeket tahara or doctor, and that is where the trauma occurred. A gynecologic exam that is performed with minimal consent and sensitivity can be a sexual trauma. A woman who does not feel she can say no to what is deemed a halachic necessity, and cries as a bodeket or physician proceeds to stretch or open her hymen manually, is in fact experiencing a sexual violation.
Individuals who experience ongoing symptoms of nervous system arousal and hypervigilance resulting from trauma will not feel safe if asked to “just relax and let go.” Being on guard and ready to react when necessary are mechanisms that have allowed trauma survivors to endure, and asking them to give up those defenses and relinquish control will further decrease their sense of safety.
It is best to approach the commencement of sexual activity after marriage with “universal precautions.” In other words, there are principles of sexual health that are appropriate and safe for everyone regardless of past history, and should be provided to all couples embarking upon marriage. The following concepts should be included in all premarital education frameworks: autonomy, boundaries, consent, equality, respect, trust, and safety. For couples experiencing difficulty with their intimate life, intervention should be a chosen and mutually agreed upon option, not a requirement. Couples should look for trauma informed practitioners, whether doctors, pelvic floor physiotherapists, or sex therapists. This approach will help couples develop a loving relationship and experience the safety to engage in sexual intimacy. Rather than triggering old feelings of being used and objectified, partners will feel seen, heard, and valued. This is the basis for healing and repair.
Talli Yehuda Rosenbaum is an individual and couple therapist and a certified sex therapist and sex therapy supervisor. She has authored and edited books, book chapters, and numerous journal articles on trauma and sexuality, sexual pain disorders, and sexuality and Judaism. Before re-training as a psychotherapist, she treated patients as a physical therapist for 25 years. In addition to maintaining an active private practice in Israel, Talli co-hosts the podcast “Intimate Judaism” and frequently lectures both in Israel and abroad, to lay as well as professional audiences.