Reactions

 

I always think about how things could have been different for me if someone cared, if someone held my hand and let me know it wasn't my fault.  I wish someone sat me down, listened to me, and given me space to talk about what happened, and didn't blame me. I had a moment the other day, and I thought, what if I had known Mark back when I was 13?  I was half awake, half sleeping, but the thought of someone caring and reacting appropriately made me cry. For that girl who just wanted to know she wasn't so awful. That girl was drowning under all that she was carrying, and each person looked the other way. In that space between sleeping and awake, Mark was walking away from everything that was so awful and was carrying me in his arms.  He was carrying Spunky far away from everything and everyone who was unkind.  It was the warmest feeling in the world. I was holding on, my arms around his neck, grateful to feel some safety and some peace.  Crazy as an adult to need that kind of care. I was who I am, just watching and grateful. It felt like one of those scenes where a firefighter is carrying someone away from the flames. Same feeling, just a differing situation.  

It's not just what happened to me at 5, or at 13, or in my 20's; it's all of those things together that I have experienced that make up the person I am today. I am strong, and I am ok most days, but those things have affected me forever and always will be a page in my story, the worst, the tragic, and the unimaginable. There are going to be things that come up on all the days of my life that I will have to sit with.  Some things I will hold my heart and wail at the devastation, and just try to breathe through the moment. Other things will feel crushing, and I will be angry that they still bother me. Then there will be things that there are no words for, that just need someone to hold space until I can catch my breath, and know that I have come so far. Always the journey, there will never be a moment when what has happened to me is finished. It sounds awful, but trauma is something that will forever and always have an impact. Sometimes small and other times huge, still an impact all the same. 

I wonder what others have done when they have found out their mother, daughter, or sister has been assaulted. I wonder what their thoughts were, how they treated them, what they were thinking, and what help they offered. Did they hold them, let them cry?  Did they ask questions? Did they ask them what they needed? Did they make sure they got medical care, did they ask them if they wanted to call the police. If they were not yet of age, did they make them feel loved? Did they explain that what happened to them wasn't ok, and that the police need to be notified so there can be some kind of justice?  Were they treated with respect, and their thoughts honored and heard?  I want to know about those things and what others have experienced. 

There is a woman that I know, who I have picked up parts and pieces of different stories.  Maybe I am just thinking too much, but I believe that her daughter may have been assaulted. She has spoken about how the world has not been kind to her and about her choice to put animals before people. There was a conversation about driving to counseling, and the music she listened to, and the idea of rape culture was brought up.  Maybe I am looking into it too much, but there is a gut feeling. Even today, I can feel the care for her daughter, the desire to understand, and the desire to understand where she has been in the world and why she sees things the way she does. Even the other day, I was sharing that I wasn't smart enough for the Ph.D program, and she said that her family has always participated in counseling and would choose me, hands down.  That meant the world to her, and I was moved to tears.  To know that someone would trust you with their family, their heart, is a really big deal. The kindness she showed her daughter was exceptional, and I hope that someday I gain a deeper understanding of her situation and get some insight into her thoughts and feelings about what happened. 

I even watched a special about Elizabeth Smart.  And she said that the rapes really weren't talked about. She felt terrible and didn't know how to even talk about it.  She didn't know the difference between consent and love, and the things that happened to her. That was astounding to me, to have parents be so understanding, and yet a huge part was looked over and never acknowledged, and not because there wasn't love or concern, maybe they just didn't know how. But the impact that had on her was huge.

And I think about that, and my heart sinks. For me, I am not sure that there is a difference. For me, it's all violence, assault, and harm.  I am not sure I can imagine making the choice to purposely have sex; I just go away. I have had sex since I was five years old. There is a certain weight to the things that i carry, that are entangled in every piece of all that I am.  I knew I was hurt; I didn't really understand what was happening. Yet, when I did, I felt like I was something terrible, awful, and I was the one who had done something wrong. When I think about a relationship, or maybe getting married someday, I think, how could I do that to a man?  Sorry, I am used goods, I will love you with all that I am, but please don't expect me to be anything sexual. Not something that I have to worry about today, but sometimes I feel like that piece is broken.  I wonder: if I ever did get into a relationship, how would my past impact it? Would they be angry? Would they be ok on those days I just want them close and to feel safe? Would they be okay with not knowing some things, or would they want to know to understand the woman I am? So many questions. 

I think of my children, and someday, if they ask more questions or have concerns, what will their reaction be towards me? Will they think of me differently?  I so badly want that open communication to know their thoughts and feelings. They know my heart, what I have done, and how I want to make a difference. Still, things are not openly discussed, and I wonder if they ever will be. Will Amelia have questions about why there is no grandfather? What will her thoughts and reactions be? So many questions.  Some things are not in my everyday, some things are not in my year, but then there are other things that are my everyday, and I want others to understand that. 

The reactions we have, how and why we have them, matter. They matter for survivors and how they interpret the world around them going forward. I will always be forever grateful to Mark for not giving up on me, for always making time and creating space for me to heal, to recover, to become the woman that I was always meant to be. He took the time and has cared for little Callahan, giving her a safe place and time. He has cared for spunky, validating all that she feels and never pushing her to do or be anything other than who she is. And for me, to make me laugh when that's the last thing I want to do, for encouraging me when I am so done, giving up feels like the best option. For his belief in me and knowing that I have what it takes to continue moving forward and make each of my dreams come true.

Reactions matter to a person in the moment and in every moment of the rest of their lives. 

 I heart your heart.