*This entry was written September 2020 although not publically posted until 2023*
It has been a while - again - since I have posted. Since my last post, I relocated for school and have been insanely busy. Even as I type this, I have 3 finals coming up that need to be studied for, but this has been on my mind a lot lately, and I feel until I post it, I will continue being distracted.
As I am sure many of you have noticed, I have always been very vague about my assaulter and the details surrounding him. Well, I am here to talk about those details now and some of the other disgusting things that took place after my assault that I haven't talked about out of fear I would be giving away identifying details.
But....why now? What changed?
Honestly...nothing, I have grown so much in the last couple of years, but this is one situation that continues to make me feel like a scared little girl.
I am terrified to make this post, I know some people will read it and very likely identify my assaulter, but I am trying to be strong, and trying to remind myself of the worse thing that could happen; some people may choose not to speak to me anymore, and is that really the end of the world? Is someone dropping me as a friend worse than the torture I have been feeling for the last few years?
No.
I need to do this. For me. Keeping the potential identifying details hidden was NEVER about protecting him. It was ALWAYS about protecting myself. I had myself convinced if I posted them, my phone would blow up with hate messages, but you know what, even if that happens, so be it. The people who truly know me and love me in this world, know the truth and they know my heart.
That. Is. All. That. Matters.
My assaulter and I worked together for years, we were friends and everyone thought the world of him - I did too.
The way he portrays himself at work, and how well-liked he is, is a no-brainer that everyone would/will take his side. Perhaps, I am not giving my former co-workers enough credit, and if that is the case, I am sorry. I continued to work there for almost 2 years after the assault (although some people had some thoughts about that...). I needed the job, I had been there a long time AND I am a firm believer that I should not be the one to quit my job. I figured I could handle it, we worked in separate spaces for the most part so I could easily avoid him...until a year and a half later, he was promoted to my position - one he said he never wanted. Now we were working side by side.
I remember that day like it was yesterday. My best friend called me to tell me, and I hung up the phone and crumbled. I lasted about 9 more months, and it was the hardest 9 months of my life. "Fake it until you make it", never meant so much to me and I proved so much to myself in those 9 months, but the biggest revelation: I am one strong and resilient mother-f@*#ing WOMAN!
He took a lot from me that night: my self-esteem, self-worth, autonomy, and sexual identity, but I wasn't going to let him take my job from me too. I increased my therapy appointments during this time and was able to get to a point where we discussed work, nothing more, and I sent him home early as often as I could.
Several factors contributed to my leaving. I was burnt out, I barely recognized myself anymore, and I no longer felt my values aligned with the companies - however, I know most of my burnout was a direct result of the façade I had put on for almost 2 years. Leaving allowed me the time and space to begin my healing. It was not until after I left that I realized for 2 years, I did not make any progress in my healing because I was trying to survive.
I would like to share a deeply personal letter. This letter was given to me by my Sexual Assault Therapist during my last session, and I continue to read it to this day on a regular basis.
I am sharing this letter for many reasons; to show how beneficial therapy can be and that there is absolutely no shame in seeking help if any of you have been nervous to take that step. Sharing this is also a part of my own healing process and while this letter is written to me, based on my own story, perhaps you may find parts insightful or healing for yourself.
I have transcribed the letter for easier reading.
Dear B,
Throughout our sessions, I have been facilitating narrative therapy with you. Part of narrative therapy involves writing letters to our clients as a way of reflecting on their progress and sharing what I witnessed as you journeyed through healing.
Upon meeting you for our first grounding and mindfulness session, I was struck by your determination and desire to be seen for who you really are. When you said, "people I work with see me as mean"', that really hit me. This is such a challenging narrative to counter, and you struck me by naming it so bravely and being open to working with this story that had shaped you in a way that you wanted to resist. What was clear to me, however, was that when we began to explore this story, we learned the intention of this part of you that contributed to this narrative- and it was to be protective. Being "mean" was actually a protective shield for being vulnerable in a workplace that had been harmful, both in the past and currently, and that continued to employ the person who harmed you through sexual assault.
The resistance you held towards the initial narrative transformed into resisting the narrative of "calling rape". You named wanting to talk about sexualized violence in its many forms, of alcohol-facilitated sexual assault, and the issues surrounding consent and consensual sex - both individually with me, and also publicly, whether it was through a blog, or conversations with the people in your circles. It was so encouraging for me to see you stand up to respond to this narrative--one which is believed and supported by our society all too often.
A repeated theme in our sessions, B, was that regardless of what stories were being told about you, or the doubt you felt about what your experience was, you always strive to live strongly according to your values. Your value of staying true to yourself never wavered and I admired how you came back to this again and again. You had family members and friends who tested your boundaries and made it difficult to live by your value of authenticity, yet you were able to respectfully speak up for yourself and put up even stronger boundaries. What other values have you been trying to live by? What does it look like when you are living according to your values in all aspects of your life?
When you identified and held your anger towards the person who harmed you in a safe container, I watched as you used it to protect yourself while going to work and while resisting the voice inside you that held onto self-doubt. The healing you engaged in was both personal and political. You resisted the "calling rape" narrative by identifying it and talking about it with a fierce energy, which prevented it from strengthening. What strengthened instead was radical self-compassion that you allowed yourself to feel for what you were going through. You should feel so proud of yourself as this is a hugely courageous act. What other parts of you are feeling silenced? How can you be self-compassionate to these parts of yourself?
I want to thank you, B, and all the parts of you that showed up consistently to therapy - for being vulnerable and for trusting me with your story. Making a phone call and coming in through those doors can be difficult, and despite this, you made the choice to courageously talk about an issue that affects not only you but many other women in our society.
I'd love to hear how things go for you as you continue to resist and respond to these narratives, cultivate your value of authenticity, and working at your edge of discomfort to use your voice and stand up for what you believe in. It was an honor to share this space with you and I hope your experience was a positive step in your healing.
In Solidarity,
S
*Disclaimer: I am NOT a Registered Psychologist, Sexual Assault Navigator Therapist or hold an accredited certification for mental health support. This is simply my journey and my journey alone that I hope will help fellow survivors feel supported*