Aimee Torres
“One person can make a huge difference in someone’s life just by speaking up.”
Awake: Welcome, Aimee. Thank you so much for being willing to share your story. How would you like to introduce yourself? Please tell us a little about your life.
Aimee Torres: I am Filipino American, born and raised here in Southern California. I’m married, and my husband and I have a son who is three. I’m 39 and a filmmaker. I’m also a big foodie and love trying out new restaurants. I like to work out and travel. When I’m not working, I like to volunteer with my dog, a golden retriever named Laney. We have done testing and training in order to become a therapy dog team. We’ve gone to hospitals, facilities, and schools so people can pet her. Most recently, we began going twice a month to Children’s Hospital to visit children who have cancer. The kids can spend time with Laney, which gives them both a distraction and comfort during their stay at the hospital.
Q. Wow! That sounds like rewarding work. You were a panelist for one of our Courageous Conversations a few months ago, and you spoke then about your family life and your experience of abuse. Could you share a little about that now, Aimee?
A. Yes. I had a very Catholic upbringing. I went to Catholic school all the way through high school. Because I’m from a Filipino family, the Church was ingrained in all aspects of my life. I participated in various church activities, and priests were often at our house for family gatherings.
The priest who abused me was a “friend” of my aunt’s and like her, he was also born in the Philippines. I use the term “friend” loosely because they appeared to be in a non-platonic relationship. He was a priest from the Archdiocese of Los Angeles. He would frequently come over on Sundays after Mass to visit my aunt and spend the night at her apartment. I often spent the night with my aunt as well—she took care of me a lot while my mom was at work—and sometimes he was there at the same time. No one expected a priest, who was ordained by God, to do any wrong. In our culture we were taught that the adults are always right, even if they are obviously wrong. I was abused from the ages of 8 to 11. I spent years telling my family what happened, but nothing was done about it.
My cousin and her boyfriend were the first people I told, when I was about 9 years old. They assured me that they would tell my mom. But nothing ever happened with that, and time passed. Someone at my middle school anonymously reported that they were concerned about my mental health, and I started therapy. I told my therapist about the priest, and she told my mom. But still nothing happened. My mom kept saying she would tell my aunt but she never did. Looking back, I don’t think that would have made a difference, nor do I think it was the correct thing to do. She should have gone straight to the police and reported it immediately. Instead I waited patiently for her to notify my aunt. All that happened was that my mom didn’t let me go to my aunt’s home. Eventually my aunt found out when the priest was arrested for abusing me, and at that point she confronted and disowned me.
Q. Aimee, I’m so, so sorry. You were just a child and needed people to stand up for you.
A. Yes, I think that’s part of why I’m a filmmaker and storyteller today. I know what it’s like for my voice and my story to not be heard. That’s why it feels important to share my story here. There’s a lot of people suffering in silence, who don’t know that there’s anybody like them going through the same thing. I wish I had known this back then because I wouldn't have felt as alone. Advocacy is very important to me now. There's that saying, “If you see something, say something,” and that rings true for me. I've had countless people in my life who could have said something and could have changed the course of my life. One person can make a huge difference in someone’s life just by speaking up.
Q. In the end, who did speak up for you?
A. My high school psychology teacher, who was also our campus minister. In AP psychology we had talked about sexual abuse. When no one in my family did anything, I felt like I was at a breaking point. I needed to tell someone, so I told the campus minister/psychology teacher when I was a sophomore. He reported it, and that’s when my abuser got arrested.
Back then, the district attorney didn’t feel that my abuser would serve time because of the lack of previous reports about him. There was a plea deal, and he was only charged with misdemeanor battery. He pleaded guilty and received just two years probation and a small fee. The Archdiocese of Los Angeles simply placed him on the inactive list. I felt robbed of the opportunity for justice.
Q. That must have felt devastating. Do I understand correctly that your abuser remained involved with your family?
A. Yes, he continued to be present in my family's life. Everyone knew what happened, that he had been arrested, but my aunt still brought him around to family gatherings. I had to jump through a lot of hoops to avoid him. No one dared to speak up when my abuser would show up.
There were many times that I missed important family events because of him. I missed saying goodbye to my grandmother at the airport because my abuser escorted my aunt to the airport that day. The last thought my grandmother ever had of me was wondering why I didn’t say goodbye to her. Another time a couple years ago, another aunt was returning home to the Philippines and my family threw a goodbye dinner for her, which I missed because my abuser was there. The fact that I missed these events haunts me.
There was another incident where I was supposed to go to my cousin’s kid’s baptism. My husband and I were on our way there and I called my mom and asked her who was there. She named off some relatives. I had to ask her specifically if my abuser was there too. He was, but she wasn’t going to mention it to me if I didn't ask. It’s like it didn’t even register that this was a problem.
It is not like my family did not know, but I had to constantly remind them that I could not be in the same room with my abuser. I felt that I couldn't talk about what happened to me because it made people uncomfortable. They wanted to push it under the rug and for me to just move on. It took a huge toll on me.
Q. I’m sure it did. Again, I’m really sorry, Aimee. I know you have done a lot of work to move toward healing. What has been the most helpful to you?
A. I think what has helped me the most is being an advocate for people and helping them share their stories, letting them have a voice, because I know the importance of having your story heard. It’s also helped to talk to my therapist and my husband, who validate me and say, “This isn’t normal, what your family did.” They acknowledge and validate what happened to me. I feel safe knowing that I don’t have to go through this alone. Most importantly, it is nice to know that I am not crazy or wrong to feel a certain way about my family.
When I filed my lawsuit against the Archdiocese of Los Angeles, I worked with an advocate at my law firm, and they were able to set me up with my therapist. The archdiocese has a program where they paid for my therapy, which is something I didn't know existed.
Aimee and Laney, volunteering at Children’s Hospital
My therapist is definitely trauma informed. I’ve been meeting with her once a week for four years. We work on the little things and week after week those add up to big things, to getting the whole story of what happened, a wider perspective.
My dogs have helped me immensely as well. I would not be able to get through anything without them. There is nothing like that bond between a human and their dog. Without words, they are able to see your soul and make an imprint. When my dog Spike died a few years ago, I got Laney. Since then, Laney has been by my side. She knows exactly when I'm going through something and need her support.
Q. That’s a beautiful bond. Thank you, Aimee, for sharing your story. It’s been an honor to hear it. I wish you continued healing. As we close, can you describe what makes you feel strong?
A. Well, now I'm the adult in the situation. When I was younger, I needed the adults to be strong for me, to protect me. Now, as an adult, and especially with my son, I know that I’m the strong one, I’m the protector. That’s what we as adults need to do: protect the kids. That’s part of why I visit Children’s Hospital. You see so many kids there that are so vulnerable. They often feel alone and scared. I know what it is like to be that kid, alone and scared. It brings me joy to know that for just a moment, my dog can provide them the solace and happiness they need, even if it is brief.
—Interview by Erin O’Donnell
Note from Awake: We extend heartfelt thanks to Aimee for sharing her story. We also want to acknowledge that every survivor’s path is different. We honor the journeys of all who have experienced sexual abuse by Catholic leaders and are committed to bringing you their stories. In addition to Aimee’s story, we encourage you to read our previous Survivor Stories here.
If you have experienced sexual abuse, you can receive support through the National Sexual Abuse Hotline, 800-656-4673, which operates 24 hours a day. If you seek support from the Catholic Church, you can find the contact information for your diocesan victim assistance coordinator here. Also, Awake is always open to listening to and learning from survivors. If you would like to connect with us, we invite you to email Survivor Care Coordinator Esther Harber at estherharber@awakecommunity.org.
