Telling my sexual assault story was something I went back and forth on for a really long time. It’s something that was really hard for me to share. I don’t enjoy talking about any part of it and I don’t think I owe anyone any part of it. It’s my story. My experience. And mine to deal with however I see fit.
But I also have a strong voice. And I’m an advocate for speaking up when it can help someone else. A lot of you reached out to me to offer support and share with me your stories. And for that reason, I want to continue the discussion.
I want to emphasize that in no way should me feeling the need to keep talking make you feel that I believe it’s the only way to do this. To survive is always enough. You get to choose how/when/if you share your story – and with whom to share it. I simply feel I can talk about it more and I want to. For my own selfish healing, and because I hope that even one person reads this and feels a connection that could help them.
I still haven’t shared my detailed story with anyone. I’ve shared pieces. And I think that’s the way it will always be.
While I understand talking about the physical act and the horrific nature of what happens can be a really eye-opening way to show just how awful sexual assault is; I choose to focus on the lasting mental effects.
Certainly the physical effects can be extensive. But what a lot of people don’t know is that experiencing sexual assault never leaves you. You don’t forget about it. You heal, but you don’t magically cease to have that part of you exist. It lives with you long after everyone else has forgotten it happened. And it comes back to you when you least expect it.
For me it shows up in my anxiety. I’m a bit irrational when it comes to safety. I am always planning an escape and generally suspicious of most situations. I don’t like large crowds. Personal space issues? I think I invented those. I’d definitely attribute these things to not just my assault, but it plays a large part.
Something I’ve noticed since sharing my story is that the people closest to me understand my anxieties just a little bit better. And that makes me feel less anxious. One of the hardest things about living with anxiety is that not everyone understands your triggers. Which in turn, makes your anxiety worse.
I also recently realized how much my confidence was affected by what happened. I lost respect for myself and doubted my value. And I made a lot of choices that weren’t a reflection of what I really wanted for myself. I projected an outward confidence that simply didn’t exist inside me. I hated who I was for a really long time and I allowed the opinions of others control a lot of my perception of myself.
Only recently have I invested in myself to correct my confidence issue. I’ve spent a lot of time and money to go to therapy, journal, reflect – you name it, I’ve tried it. It’s made such a huge difference. I cannot imagine not loving myself ever again. I cannot imagine making decisions to do things I don’t want to do. And I cannot fathom allowing other people’s opinions to dictate what I think of myself.
All that to say – being a survivor of sexual assault makes you a complex person. Even more complex is that no two stories are the same. So, the after effects are not the same. Every story is truly unique. But nothing about is simple. The story doesn’t end when the assault ends.