SAAM Day 3: Who is safe to share your story with?
How do we know who is safe to share with?
Yesterday we were talking about how to have the conversation with ourselves, but how can we identify someone who is safe to share this with?
When I was raped, I didn't report it to the police, I didn't go to the hospital, I didn't tell my friend whose house it happened at, and I didn't tell my parents when I got home.
After I took a shower, I looked in the mirror and thought to myself,
"Girls like me don't get raped."
Looking back, I have no idea what I thought that meant - sexual assault doesn't discriminate. 1 in 3 women and 1 in 6 men will experience sexual violence in their lifetimes.
But I swore I would take this secret to the grave. And I almost did.
I didn't tell a soul for eleven years. Barry was the first person I felt safe enough to share with and that was because he is a good man who took the time to say "if something like this has happened to you and you want to share it with me, I got you."
And a few weeks later when I did tell him, he believed me. He didn't ask questions about who I was with, what I was wearing, and if I had been drinking. He didn't question if I knew what actually happened to me. He took me at my word and offered his support.
A few years later, I would share the story with my father for the first time. As soon as I took a breath long enough for him to interject, he said:
"Your story is bullshit, you better come up with a new one before you get home, because nobody is buying the one you're telling."
Whoa.
If I had come home the day of my assault, shared my story, and that was his reaction, I wouldn't be here today. I can tell you with 100% certainty that I wouldn't have survived it.
If you haven't experienced sexual assault, chances are you will have an opportunity to support someone who has. When someone is courageous enough to share this with you, all you need to say is:
I'm so sorry that happened to you. I believe you. How can I support you?
The survivor might not know what support looks like, and that's okay. All we need in the moments that follow is to have our experience validated, know that you believe us, and that you're here to support.
Journal Prompts:
Journaling is a huge part of my process and is one of the reasons I’m still here to share this story. No matter what is happening in the world around me, I know that I can always come home to myself by finding a cozy place to settle in, making a cup of tea, putting on some great music, and making time to reflect on whatever is happening in my life at the time. Here are some journal prompts to help you start reflecting on your own experiences. If you’d like to dig in deep on this, please consider joining us for the Trail of Life Maps workshop on Saturday!
Do I know any survivors or anyone I definitely feel safe sharing with?
What conditions do I require to feel safe having this conversation? (ie I needed a private place, no interruptions, etc)
What am I looking forward to on the other side of sharing this story? What do I have to gain by allowing someone to support me through this?
What am I scared of? What is holding me back?
Visualize this conversation going well. How does this person respond? How do you feel once you've shared it?
Video Transcript:
Yesterday we were talking about how we should have these conversations with ourselves if nothing else, when we come to the realization that what we have experienced was assault, and we're ready to start healing from that, we should have that conversation with ourselves.
But how do you identify who was safe to tell, outside of yourself?
When I was assaulted, I didn't go to the cops. I didn't report it. I didn't go to hospital. I didn't tell my friend whose house it happened at. I didn't tell my parents when I got home - I just went home took a shower. And when I got out of the shower, I looked at myself in the mirror and I was like, “girls like me don't get raped.”
Looking back, I don't know what that means because everybody is like, sexual assault doesn't discriminate, right?
But I swore that I would take that experience to the grave and that I keep it a secret. I realized when I was sitting on the couch watching The Bachelor, and Barry paused the episode and let me know that if anything like that had happened to me that he could, he was willing to support me through it. I could be sure that he was a safe person to share that story with.
And I wasn't ready right away because I hadn't really owned it for myself. That was a big awakening for me. And so over the course of like, I think it was like two weeks, I was just thinking about it, I journaled about it. And then I sat Barry down I was like, “hey, remember when you said if something like that happened to me, like when we were watching The Bachelor? I do have a story like that. Can I share it with you?”
And we sat down, and he held me, and I told him the whole thing, and I cried. It was it was one of the more pivotal moments in our relationship but also in my life. Because Barry believed me.
A few years later, I was on a cruise with my father. On the plane ride from San Diego to Tampa to meet with my dad, and then fly over to London, I wrote about my assault for the first time. My dad's a writer, he's a photo journalist. That's how he expresses himself. When I was younger, he handed me a journal and suggested that I start writing to process for myself. I figured this would be a really great way for us to start this conversation. Like, “Hey, I wrote about this. You're a writer, you can relate.” And that's how I shared my story with him for the first time.
We had been having some communication difficulties during that beginning part of the cruise, and at one point, I was just like, “hey, I think we need to sit down and reintroduce ourselves to each other. Like I am a grown woman. We have 18 years of history, me being your roommate and your daughter. But I've built an entire life for myself and I'd really like to reintroduce you to Sydney today.”
And so we did.
I asked for the floor, because we're both very passionate communicators and I said, “I just want to get this out. And as soon as I'm done, then we can start having questions, but we tend to talk over each other and I'd really just appreciate the opportunity to have the floor because this is going to be one of the most difficult things I've ever shared with you.”
And so I did and I shared it.
And as soon as he had a second when I took a long enough breath to possibly be done, but really I was just pausing because I needed a moment because I just shared a story that I had been sitting with for a decade plus at that point. The second that I paused long enough, he looked at me and he said
“Your story is bullshit. And you better come up with a new one before you get home because nobody's buying the one you're telling.”
And in the moment, I don't remember what happened after that. I just kind of like blacked out a little bit, but I know I went and I got in the shower and I put on some like Stick Figure and Rebelution and like my my good vibes - like good music mix; uplifting lyrics, music that makes you feel like you're on vacation, and I turned it up as loud as I possibly could in the shower. This is in a cruise ship so it feels like a like a pressure cooker. And I was just like, “I hope that he can hear the music. I hope that he can relate to this or something.”
And I went through the rest of the cruise, and we had some good conversations and I felt like we were moving in the right direction. But it wasn't until I got home that I realized that Younger Me who had just been assaulted - at that point 12 plus years ago - knew she knew that that was going to be my father's reaction. Now, I didn't grow up in a house where I was like physically assaulted, but my father had an explosive temper and I spent a lot of my youth learning how to read his emotions, learning how to anticipate what triggered him and how to avoid that entirely.
I just send Little Sydney so much love for knowing that that reaction was probable.
And looking back, if that was the reaction my father had when I came home from that assault? I wouldn't be here today. I wouldn't have been able to survive that.
So if you're sitting with this, and you've been sitting with it for a long time, trust yourself. Trust that when you're ready, you're ready. You'll know. It's not going to be easy. And when I say that you'll know, that doesn't mean that you'll wake up and all of a sudden you'll have the words to articulate it and you'll never feel the weight of that trauma ever again. But you'll know when you're safe and you'll know when you meet the people that can support you if you don't know them already.
So trust yourself. Trust your process. And if you want someone to talk to who won't react that way, send me a DM (or an email). I'm happy to help however I can.
And if you're watching this and you haven't experienced sexual assault yourself, but chances are you probably will have the opportunity to support somebody who has. One in three women will experience sexual violence before they die. One in six men will experience sexual violence before they die.
If somebody feels courageous enough to share this deeply, deeply personal story with you, the most impactful thing you can say, the first words out of your mouth: “I am so sorry that that happened to you. I believe you. How can I support you?”
That's it. That's all you need to say. And they might not know what support looks like. They might not know what to say or how to say it beyond just getting that story out of their mouth. But the last thing you want to do is insert an opinion, or ask questions, or try to think about how you could have prevented it - especially if you're a parent and this is a child coming to you.
