i don't know you.
but you and i have both been categorized as "victims" of sexual assault.
you and i both fall into the category of one of the Americans sexually assaulted every 73 seconds.
i don't know you. but i do know your pain.
believe me, i wish i did not. i wish i could blink and make it disappear. i'd give anything to give back the "victim" label...
the label that feels forever engraved on the inside of my heart, and on the outside of my body.
i wish whatever led you to my blog wasn't our similarity of having been sexually assaulted. but you're here now. so if that is what led you here, this letter is to you.
if you are not a victim of sexual assault, you are fortunate. if you are a woman, i'd urge you to stay and read these words from the depths of my soul. if you are a man, i'd ask you to stay and read these words from the depths of my soul. just because it hasn't happened to you, doesn't make it IRRELEVANT to you.
it's not MY problem. it's not HER problem. it is, and hear me when i say it: IT IS OUR PROBLEM. and it is infecting more of us than we care to admit.
the only way to help is for you to listen. listen to our stories. listen to our hearts. SEE our tears. LISTEN to us speak, and don't condemn us. HEAR US.
for now, though, on the very last day of sexual assault month, i am writing to you. this is for you. i see you. i hear you. i believe you. i value you. and i will never, ever stop fighting for you. for me. for us.
to you:
i know you're tired.
you feel like you can't possibly inhale ONE more time.
instead of drawing a deep breath, and hoping for relief, you feel suffocated. instead, you choke, gripped by fear, plummeting you into a deep cloud of panic.
after the panic has tormented you enough for one day, it buries you under a feeling of hopelessness so immense, you pray you don't open your eyes again.
but you do. you rise.
some days the peace and the panic intertwine, like a 50/50 custody battle.
some days you wake up in peace, only to have it be cruelly ripped away from you. right as you were beginning to trust that it was here to STAY, it dissipates, only to be replaced with what feels like sheer terror.
a similar pattern, that one. everything you once trusted, you no longer can.
life feels like a roller coaster, but the ride isn't enjoyable. in fact, you become so desperate to stop it sometimes, you think about ending it all. anything to just MAKE IT STOP.
your mind can't differentiate what hurts more.
waking up in panic, and praying desperately for peace that doesn't come...
or,
waking up in peace, skeptically, only to be paralyzed by panic so immense, that, the only thing you can beg of your body is for it to do what it was CREATED to do, BREATHE.
i know the nights that you stay up, with every single light on. your eyes, your mind, your body exhausted,
but still, safer to have your eyes open than to close them, fearing for what will come if they close.
the times you get into the shower, and let searing water run over your body, hoping that with its cleansing, it will cleanse you of what happened. as if there is a magic eraser for rape.
you close your eyes for safety, but they betray you, and amid flashbacks of what they did to you, the torment screams:
nothing will ever take it away.
suddenly, your face is drenched in water, and you can't tell where the water running out of the shower head stops, and where your tears start.
though you know you are forever marked by what they did, you fool yourself into still trying to wash away. it's a desperate attempt. one that's become habit, even though it doesn't work.
the water burns your skin, but you stand there. you stand there and you stand there and you stand there, until your skin looks almost unrecognizable.
you step out of the shower, and you don't allow yourself to catch a glimpse of your reflection.
you can't bear to look at yourself, because all you see when you do, is how they brutalized you.
you can't face yourself, because then you have to face what they did to you.
shame begins to infiltrate you, slowly shutting you up.
you try to scream, and you are met with a deafening silence.
THEY damaged you, but it doesn't matter anymore. the only thing that matters, is that you are now damaged.
i know the emptiness and lonliness you feel. how it is possible to feel so alone in a room of crowded people.
on the outside, you may be able to muster a smile, but nobody could ever possibly know the sadness that surrounds you. every single second. of every day.
i could talk about the triggers that launch your body from where you presently are, back to that very place and time when they violated you. but i won't. out of respect and compassion, both for you and i.
but i know. trust me, i know.
i know the dialogue in your head about ever feeling "normal" again.
i know you spend hours thinking about if you will ever make it through the day without being set off by something seemingly "normal" and "small."
i know you think about it constantly.
i know you have days where you cannot tolerate the weight of it, so the only thing you can do is numb it. some days, it feels so overwhelming. it engulfs you and all you can do is what you need to, just to simply survive. i've had so many of those days, i've lost count of them all.
other days, you feel more brave, and you open your mouth to let out some of the horror that has happened to you, only to be met with instant shame and regret.
it isn't their fault, they don't know what to say. but it isn't your fault either.
whether it's a secret, or you speak about it only. whether you're single or married. kids or no kids. 27 years ago, or yesterday.
i know it haunts you. i know the torment firsthand.
it is a fight that feels unimaginable, it feels like a war that will never be won.
a battle that somehow is in the past, yet is rooted in the very depths of your soul. it never leaves. it never moves. it never changes. it never goes away.
yes. i know.
but i also know that if you are reading this, even if your eyes are cloudy and dripping with tears, you have survived your worst day.
and that, just simply that, is incredible.
nothing, nothing will ever take away what they did to you.
but the good news, my friends, is that your worth isn't placed on what others have done to you.
they violated you. they stole from you. they tried to break you.
and you are right. you are right that you will never be the same.
you will NEVER go back to who you were before.
there is loss and grief in that statement. and my friend, before you can possibly move forward, you have to admit that, and accept it.
you will never be the same, and, the reason IS NOT fair, but the truth is, who you were before simply doesn't exist anymore.
leaving behind who you were is not a bad thing.
in fact, who you are becoming now, and who you will be in the future, could never possibly match who you were before.
i know, you don't feel like it.
but despite the crushing weight of it all, you're still here. you still rise. you choose to breathe in and out every day, no matter how painful it is.
your eyes, though clouded with tears, they still see the beauty in the world. because of you. because of your choice to see it.
you feel pain every single day. and yet, you rise. you move your body. you show up. even though it hurts, you continue to show up. you show up. you show up. you show up.
your heart is shattered, broken, perhaps even drenched in fear. and yet, somehow, miraculously, you allow yourself to be loved and to love.
i am proud of you, i am honored to stand by an army of incredibly brave and resilient women, who choose to take their life back, no matter HOW painful it is.
no, really. my friend. despite living in the middle of what feels like evil and torment, you accept love. love, that i believe heals us minute by minute, and in our darkest moments of suffering. YOU DO THAT. and if nobody has told you today, or yesterday, or in a very long time, let me tell you now. that is remarkable, and you should be proud of yourself.
even though you feel surrounded by shame, you will (slowly) start to speak. to whoever, and wherever, i don't know. and perhaps you're reading this, and you haven't yet... you will. you will find the strength along the way to share your story, I PROMISE YOU.
people tell you you're brave, and you cringe. but here i am. i am one of you. and i am telling you that you don't even know the level of courage and bravery and strength and grace and resilience you have.
you may have been accused, ridiculed, blamed, name called, not taken seriously...but through all of that, you survived.
they may have stolen from you, but they did not end your life. and they do not get to.
i remember how alone i've felt. but we are not alone. we are NEVER alone.
YOU are not alone, wherever you are.
somehow, every single one of us that still have breath in our lungs have managed to climb out of the pit of despair (no matter how slowly.)
we are not just survivors. we are overcomers. we have a choice to emerge out of this on the other side, more beautiful than we ever could have known.
you may not feel like an overcomer, but, i promise you, you are. i know you are.
i am not feeding you some superficial motivating words. believe me, i don't play like that. ask anybody who knows me.
i know, because, most days, i am trapped in what feels like the deepest pain i've ever known, and somehow, i carry on. and you do too.
we survived the assault, but EVERY day SINCE, we have overcome. i need you to say this out loud until you can start to believe it.
you SURVIVED. past tense.
YOU ARE OVERCOMING. present tense.
YOU ARE HEALING. every day, you are healing. and healing isn't some clean cut journey. some day healing looks REAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLY ugly. and healing hurts. and it's painful. and some days, the pain feels unimaginable. but you are. you are healing.
there is so much more inside of you than you know. so please, for you, for me, for us - please don't give up.
shame cannot kill you if you refuse to be buried in silence. so speak. your story deserves to be told. wherever you feel safe, speak there.
your life is worth it. you are worth it. i am worth it. we are worth it.
you will never be the same, but thank God for that. there is so much beauty to come out of the ashes. i don't know how, i don't know when, i just know that triumph will come, if you can trust the journey.
there is no timeline for healing. you do the best you can every day, and then you do a little more. YOU are only responsible for yourself in every moment. be compassionate. be gentle with yourself.
trust the grief.
trust the unraveling.
feel. feel all of it. every single emotion. every feeling.
be angry. scream. cry.
come the fuck apart.
and then rise. like you do. every day.
so, my friends, until the triumph does come, don't give up. please know that you are not alone. and if you feel alone, you have a forever friend + advocate in me. whether you know me or you don't, i am here for you. i believe in you. i see you. i hear you. i BELIEVE you. i value you. i love you. and like i said at the beginning of this letter, written from the depth of my heart to YOU, i will never, ever, stop fighting for you. for me. for us.
you are not alone.
it wasn't your fault.
i belive you.
and i love you.
XOXO,
CAiTLiN
if you read this, and you are not a victim of sexual assault, heed my words at the top of this blog. listen. believe survivors. and take heart these words;
people begin to heal the moment they feel HEARD.
every 73 seconds in AMERICA, someone is sexually assaulted. every 9 minutes, that person is a CHILD.
only 5 out of every 1,000 perpetrators go to prison.
9 out of every 10 rape victims are WOMEN.
if you need support, please call the RAINN hotline: 800-656-HOPE
you are never alone.
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