How to Support an Adult Who Reveals Past Sexual Abuse

You don’t expect it. No one does.

You’re in the middle of a conversation, maybe sitting at the kitchen table, driving in silence, or walking around the block. And then it happens. Someone you love looks you in the eye and tells you something that splits your world in half:

“Something happened to me. A long time ago.”

If you’ve ever heard those words—or something like them—you know the moment sears itself into your memory. You can’t unhear it. And now, you’re left wondering: What do I say? What do I do?

Let’s talk about that.

Because how you respond matters. A lot.

Why They Might Be Telling You Now

Most people don’t understand why an adult would wait decades to say they were sexually abused as a child.

But if you’ve lived long enough, you’ve seen how trauma doesn’t follow a calendar. Sometimes it lies buried for years—hidden behind shame, confusion, fear, or the belief that no one would believe them. Childhood abuse survivors often don’t have the words when it happens. They only have the damage. The bruises no one sees.

And for many, speaking about it now means they finally can—not that it’s suddenly easy.

Your Reaction Could Be the Turning Point

There’s a reason some survivors tell one person—and never speak of it again. It’s not because they changed their mind. It’s because that first reaction either opened a door or slammed it shut.

If someone tells you they were abused, they are handing you something fragile. Mishandle it, and the pieces don’t just fall—they cut.

The truth is, you don’t need to be perfect. You just need to be present. You don’t need to say the “right” thing. But there are absolutely some things to avoid.

What to Say to Someone Who Was Abused

Say this:

• “Thank you for telling me.”

• “I believe you.”

• “I’m so sorry that happened.”

• “You didn’t deserve that.”

• “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Those words may seem simple. But to someone who’s carried a secret like this for years, they can feel like oxygen.

Now here’s what not to say:

• “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

• “Are you sure?”

• “But he always seemed like a good person.”

• “You were just a kid—let it go.”

That last one stings especially hard. Because no matter how old they are now, the part of them that was hurt… stayed young. That child is still in there, hoping someone will listen without judgment, without disbelief, without needing every detail.

Supporting a Survivor of Childhood Abuse Long-Term

The moment of disclosure is just the beginning. Healing takes time. Sometimes a lifetime. That’s why your support can’t be a one-day thing.

You don’t have to solve anything. This isn’t a problem you can “fix.” Your job is to stand beside them while they do the work—on their terms.

Ask what they need. Some might want help finding a therapist. Others might just need you to sit with them in silence. Offer things like:

• “Would you like me to help look for someone to talk to?”

• “Can I check in on you tomorrow, or would that feel overwhelming?”

• “Would it be okay if I came with you to that appointment?”

A good rule of thumb? Show up. Keep showing up. And don’t disappear when things get uncomfortable.

Some survivors come forward because new laws or legal windows give them a path to justice. If they bring up anything legal, don’t push—but do listen. In Arkansas, laws like the Justice for Vulnerable Victims Act have opened doors that were once locked tight. For some, that matters deeply.

Helping Without Taking Over

When someone we love is in pain, it’s easy to want to protect them, speak for them, shield them. But that instinct can backfire—especially for abuse survivors whose power was already stolen once.

Let them lead. Let them set the pace. Don’t ask for more than they’re willing to share. Don’t contact their abuser. Don’t confront anyone. And please, don’t turn this into your crusade.

Your job isn’t to be their savior. It’s to be their support.

There’s a big difference.

Religious or Institutional Abuse? Tread Carefully.

If the abuse happened within a church or religious setting, it may come with extra layers of silence and shame. Some survivors grew up believing they’d go to hell for speaking out. Others were told that the abuser was “a man of God” or that questioning authority was the real sin.

These cases require a delicate touch. If they reveal abuse by clergy, they may be carrying guilt that doesn’t belong to them.

Don’t try to justify it. Don’t minimize it. Don’t spiritualize it.

Just listen.

I’ve seen this time and again in my own work: the most painful part for many survivors isn’t just what was done to them—it’s how the people around them reacted when they finally told the truth.

When You Need Help, Too

It’s okay if hearing someone’s story wrecks you a little.

Especially if you start connecting dots in your own life. Maybe you recognize patterns. Maybe it brings up things you’ve never dealt with. That’s normal. And it doesn’t make you weak or selfish.

If you need to talk to someone, do it. Not because you can’t handle it—but because no one should carry these things alone. Not you. Not them.

The better you care for yourself, the better you’ll show up for them.

Practical Things You Can Do

If you’re wondering how to help someone who was abused as a child—here are a few simple, practical things that make a difference:

• Believe them. This isn’t optional.

• Let them talk—or not talk. Some days they may want to. Some days they won’t.

• Don’t demand details. They’ll share what they’re ready to.

• Don’t gossip. Keep what they tell you private.

• Support their choices. Whether it’s therapy, legal action, or simply staying silent.

And if they ever decide to take legal action, encourage them quietly. Not all survivors want to file a claim—but if they do, your support could give them the courage to follow through.

You’re Not Alone Either

Hearing a disclosure like this can make you feel helpless. Like you’re standing in front of a tidal wave with a bucket. But here’s the truth: your presence is powerful.

You don’t have to be a therapist. You don’t have to know what to say. You just have to stay.

Stay when it’s quiet. Stay when it’s heavy. Stay when they cry, and when they don’t.

You may not be able to erase what happened. But you can make sure that from this moment forward, they don’t walk alone.

And that counts for more than you’ll ever know.