Acceptance

If someone had told me a year ago that I would be able to make some sort of peace with my assaults, I would have laughed. For as much as I’ve avoided facing them, they were the driving force of many of my decisions over the past thirty-one years, even if I didn’t consciously realize it.

A year ago I started taking steps to stop running from the pain these moments caused me, pain so deep it felt like a tattoo on my soul. The memories of the assaults were always there, lurking, and I was always pushing them down, clinging to the hope that I could pretend they never happened. My body manifested them in other ways though. I scanned every room I entered to assess the threat level. I was unable to take deep breaths because of my constantly activated fight or flight response. Uncontrollable high blood pressure. Neuropathy. Muscle rigidity. The list went on and on.

I was afraid to begin this journey. I know some people hate that word, but it really has been a journey. One of recognizing beliefs I held about myself, analyzing patterns in my behavior, allowing myself to feel my emotions. I thought I was unable to have them for the longest time, like I had turned a switch off. I felt like a robot. Going through the motions of life but never truly experiencing them.

I can’t erase what happened to me. But I’m no longer trying to, and that’s a step in the right direction. However, I don’t want to make it sound like I am miraculously healed and now I’m done. Just like there was no switch to turn off my emotions, there is no switch that turns on to healed.

I will always be cognizant of the familiar self-doubt and blame I held for so long. Of my tendency to avoid what scares me, usually emotions. Of the depression that could come creeping back in for a visit. I have better tools to manage all of this, but I would be remiss to assume that I am finished. This journey is ongoing.

What I can say to those just starting to reckon with their assault, or multiple assaults, is that it’s worth it. You are worth it. It’s scary and seems impossible at times. You make leaps forward; you take steps backwards. But you are never alone. Sadly, thousands of people have gone through what you have gone through and have felt what you are feeling. That’s why I wrote this series. I hope it finds whomever it is meant to and gives you a glimmer of hope.

I see you.