Therapy for Adults Who Experienced Sexual Abuse by a Family Member

If this page is hard to be on, take your time.

There's no timer here, and nothing you have to do. I'm Logan Brantley, a licensed clinical social worker, and working with adult survivors of sexual abuse by a family member is one of the areas of my practice where I have specialized experience — including years as a Child Advocacy Center therapist. I see clients over secure video in California, Illinois, Texas, Virginia, Maryland, and Washington, D.C.

If you're in crisis right now: call or text 988, any hour. The National Sexual Assault Hotline is 1-800-656-4673, free and confidential. I'm not able to provide crisis response, and you deserve immediate support.

When the harm came from inside the family

Abuse by a family member carries a weight that other harm doesn't: the person who hurt you and the place that was supposed to be safe were the same place. That tangles everything — loyalty with fear, love with anger, holidays with dread. Many survivors spend years managing that tangle silently, often while the family keeps functioning around them as if the record were clean.

If you still have complicated feelings about the person — including love, including grief — nothing is wrong with you. The feelings are complicated because the situation was. You don't owe anyone a simpler story, including yourself.

And if part of you is still asking whether what happened "counts": that question is one of the most common things survivors carry in the door. We can hold the question together. You don't need a verdict to deserve support.

What therapy looks like — and what it never requires

Stabilization comes first, always. Before any processing, we build steadiness: internal resources through guided imagery, a felt sense of safety in your body, and a pace your system agrees to. The deeper work — Brainspotting, somatic parts-work, expressive arts — begins only when you're resourced for it, and it never requires narrating what happened. Your story stays yours, told or untold.

This is slow work by design. My door stays open for as long as it takes, and "healed" is not a deadline here. What we're building runs past the processing anyway: a sense of self you trust, boundaries that hold, and a life where what happened is something that happened to you — not the architecture of who you are.

On telling your family — or not