PERSPECTIVE - Finding Healing Through the Eyes of Your Abuser
Finding Healing and Forgiveness by Understanding the Perspective of Those Who Hurt Us
This message is about internal anger—the kind born from abuse, silence, and survival. It is not an excuse for abusive behavior. Abuse is never acceptable. Violence and harm toward others are never acceptable. And self-harm, though a cry for help, is also not the answer.
But what is valid—what deserves to be acknowledged—is that our inner selves scream for healing, for release, for a voice. Anger is not a flaw; it is an alarm. It is okay to say, “I am angry.” It is human.
As an abuse survivor, my healing journey took a path many may never choose. I looked at my life through the eyes of my abusers. It was painful, confronting, and at times agonizing—but it gave me answers. Answers I needed so I could move forward with my life instead of being held hostage by it.
Why did my abusers abuse me?
What shaped them?
Why was I the one chosen?
Stepping into those dark, dangerous questions was where my healing began.
Perspective—A Different Way of Seeing
Looking through the eyes of your abuser is not about acceptance or justification. It is about reclaiming your power. When we bravely step into another person’s story—even the painful, twisted one of an abuser—we sometimes uncover truths that free us from the belief that we were the problem.
I made the bold decision to do just that.
It was excruciating, especially because one of my abusers was my own mother. My father abandoned me emotionally during the most vulnerable years of my life. And then came the hardest step of all: looking through the eyes of my sexual abuser.
How terrifying does that sound?
Terrifying enough to shake my soul. And yet, that journey held a key to my healing.
The Painful Acceptance
Examining their lives did not erase the horrors. In fact, it brought them into sharper focus. I had to face the truth:
Yes, these things happened to me.
Yes, they became part of who I am.
Saying the words out loud—using my own voice—was chilling.
Looking through my parents’ eyes brought a different kind of pain. People asked me, “How could you forgive them?”
My answer is layered and deeply human.
My parents married young and in love. Their family was built with hope, but shattered when my older brother John died of leukemia. My mother battled severe mental illness at a time when mental health was taboo, misunderstood, and unsupported. My father didn’t know how to help her. Their grief pushed them into separate dark worlds, and in the chaos, I was forgotten—lost in the storm of their pain.
I was abused—mentally, physically, emotionally. I was left to survive on my own.
As an adult, I can now see the full picture.
Does this make what happened right?
Absolutely not.
Does it justify their choices?
No. The child should always come first.
But by stepping into their suffering, I found understanding. And in that vulnerable place, I discovered the possibility of forgiveness. Not perfect forgiveness—human forgiveness. The kind that coexists with lingering “pings” of pain. When those moments rise, I acknowledge them, sit with them, and then let them pass. My darkness, while part of me, no longer defines me. It taught me to cherish the light.
The Hardest Lens of All
Facing the perspective of my sexual abuser was a very different experience. I did not find full forgiveness, and I do not pretend otherwise. But I found a sliver of understanding—a small piece of empathy for the tortured child he once was.
He abused me when he was 15 years old—already filled with rage, cruelty, and darkness. He craved control, thrived on terror, and carried the marks of monstrous trauma. Later, I learned he had been abused himself. Neglected. Abandoned. Cast aside. Labeled “garbage” by the very people who were supposed to protect him.
They created the monster.
He went on to harm many others before his death by suicide. A tortured soul who never had a chance to heal or break free.
Understanding his story did not excuse what he did to me.
But it gave me closure—the closure I needed to reclaim my life.
Why Perspective Matters
Every survivor walks a different path. There is no “right way” to heal. Some will never choose this road, and that is their truth. Some never make it out at all, and that is heartbreaking.
My healing required understanding—not approval, not acceptance—just understanding.
Because when we understand, we loosen trauma’s grip. When we look through different eyes, we see that pain is generational, cyclical, contagious. And when we break the cycle, we reclaim everything that was stolen from us.
Perspective.
We each see through different lenses, shaped by different stories.
Food for thought.
And for healing.
Embrace the journey.
God Bless,
Lisa Zarcone
