Santa Barbara Film Fest Chief: I Was a Victim of Priest Child Abuse (Guest Column)

CALIFORNIA
Hollywood Reporter

by Roger Durling 2/3/2016

Thanks to ‘Spotlight,’ Roger Durling, the head of the fest (running Feb. 3-13), is opening up about his “painful journey of healing”: “Now I’m allowed to feel vindicated.”

This story first appeared in the Feb. 12 issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. To receive the magazine, click here to subscribe.

I feared the idea of watching Spotlight, but as the credits rolled, there was an incredible feeling of cathartic liberation. I sat in the theater realizing that I was not invisible anymore. I had seen victims of priest child abuse portrayed on the screen with the utmost sympathy.

When I was a young boy, I myself became a victim of abuse by a priest in Panama, where I was born. I rarely discuss it publicly, but it’s been a painful journey of healing and coming to terms with the fact that it wasn’t my fault. I’m a sur­vivor. I’ve been lucky. I know victims who have become drug addicts, who have turned to prostitution or — worse — who have committed suicide. For many years, I compartmentalized my struggle. I had completely erased the events from my history. Sadly, the trauma remained. I couldn’t be intimate. I hated my body and the way I looked. I washed my hands compulsively. Being a gay man made me an easy prey to my oppressor, and for close to 30 years I struggled with the idea that my sexuality was to blame for my instability.

Movies saved my life and gave me purpose. My abuse had made me feel that I wasn’t good enough for anything, that ultimately I would fail at whatever I set out to do. I got a graduate degree from Columbia University, but I didn’t believe in myself enough to capitalize on my education. After school, I attempted to be a writer, but I didn’t push myself as hard as I should have. I feared rejection too much. I would accept jobs with abusive bosses because that’s the way I felt most comfortable. My only solace was movies. In the dark, among fellow cinephiles, I didn’t feel disfigured. I could look Hannibal Lecter in the face — and I was fearless.

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