TRIGGER WARNING: DISCUSSION OF SEXUAL ASSAULT.
Please call the number above to reach the Confidential National Sexual Assault Hotline for help and support.
To the souls grasping for weightless breath once more,
You may not know me, and we may never meet, but I am here for you. I am sending you all my love, strength, and support. I’m sorry it happened, and I’m sorry it was you, but I am proud of you for wherever you may find yourself in healing. The world will become brighter once more; your sense of safety will slowly flow back into your life; with time your dread will fade. I know this world is scary and jagged, but it is worth fighting to stay in. Find the small things you love and ease yourself into others’ arms. I am always here for you and will accept you as you are.
With love,
C. Ann
While you read, please remember the Hotline is available 24/7.
There is courage in asking for help.
Needing help does not make you weak.
For You
For you, we scream at the top of our lungs. Our voices are unfaltering. We make ourselves known so you can start healing while we fight for you. We will validate your pain; we’ll protect you and help you feel safe again. We will hold you when the thoughts of them come back, when you can feel how they hurt you again.
We coax you back into light and help you see there is peace in life. We will help you find those small pockets of safety in this world until they expand for you. We will never rush you but watch in pride as you nurture your healing into independence and self-respect.
We’ll soothe you when the nightmares of how they touched you won’t stop coming. We will never give up on you, and we’re patient on the days when you can feel the burns of how you were touched. We never stop protesting or continuing to explain that it was not your fault.
We reassure you that it was not because of anything you did, that you shouldn’t have had to fight, that not saying something does not mean it didn’t happen.
We mean it when we say that we admire your strength and bravery, that you’re a fighter. We tell you that you have enough power to push forward. That you are courageous and that you are safe now.
We understand how memories resurface to haunt you, and we will sit with you when you can’t be touched but do not want to be alone. We don’t speak when you are unable to listen, but we hold your hand and acknowledge your pain in silence. We’ll hand you the box of tissues and offer the warmth of our love, of our unconditional support.
For Us
Yet, for ourselves, we can’t scream. We can’t even create a whisper. Letting people fight for us is uncomfortable, and our trauma feels like a burden that we don’t want others to be. We don’t want to be scared alone, but still; we find ourselves withdrawing into isolation.
We withdraw into our corner, hoping no one sees us. We don’t want to be found; we don’t want to be held. We feel as if we are beyond help. Our numbness ignites into anger, fizzling back into sadness’s ashes. We hide that we feel meek, that we feel small, that we feel invisible.
We wake up in the middle of the night because our brain has been taught to be fearful in the safest of places. Our body is always ready to fight, to shut down, to freeze. And we fight the thoughts in the back of our heads that start blaming ourselves for what they did.
We roll our eyes when someone calls us strong because it doesn’t feel true. We never wanted to be brave, to be a fighter. We just want to feel safe at parties, walking home, at bars, in our own beds and in our classrooms. Instead, our bodies are conditioned to always be in fight-or-flight.
But the trauma is rooted in us, unleashed by the most subtle trigger; it could be as slight as a room that smells the same, the sound of footsteps behind us, or even a brush of shoulders at a party.
For All of Us
This world we live in is terrifying. I understand, and I feel it too. Each day is another battle, but it’s one worth fighting. Don’t give up on me. You are worth fighting for. I need you to hold my hand as much you need me to hold yours. We may never feel how we did but we will grow through and beyond this pain. It will not consume us. We deserve a world where we are validated and safe. So, we will push forward.
Consider this our battle cry.
I see you. I hear you. I am you.
I am sorry for all the times you have been called brave. I am sorry for all the times you have been told you are resilient. You should not have to be. We may always question “why me?” and I’m sorry for the harsh honesty, but we may never find the answer to that. It didn’t happen to us to make us stronger. It didn’t happen because some higher power wanted us to grow into something great from our struggle. You have every right to be angry, you have every right to be sad, and you have every right to be scared.
Go scream at the top of your lungs, go break something. Embrace the tears that pour down your face and let the sobs out. Accept your friends’ embraces, let their comfort remind you of the safety that is still present in your life.
Please know, it should not have happened to you, and it is unfair. Despite what it might feel like, you were not stripped of your value, your purity, your right to happiness or your beauty. Some days it may feel like you’re just going through the motions, desensitized to the value of your life. And even though you may not see it yet, you are a survivor. You are surviving. You will feel safe again, you will feel secure, you will feel life in its tranquility and vibrancy. It will not always be a dark shadow hovering over your path; the light of your healing, the support, the love, and time will seep through and soak you in the richness and radiance you deserve.
Now listen carefully and repeat this to yourself as many times as you need to hear it.
They will not always have power over us.
We will heal.
We might be strong, but we should not have to be because of this.
We were created with strength; it was not birthed out of our trauma.
We are not what happened to us.
So, let me tell you again;
I see you. I hear you. I am you.
Acknowledgments
This was a difficult piece to write in all its vulnerability and honesty. I am so proud of myself and all survivors who extend their support and stories with those who are coping or educating themselves for their loved ones.
Thank you to Aine Fox, who took in my heartbroken and raw writing to help me sculpt this inspiring and open piece.
Thank you to Nicole Backowski, who made me feel seen for the first time in my life and for holding me up.
Thank you to Anna Hergenrother, who is constantly gentle and accepting of my healing process and to Kol Jansa who lets me cry in silence, reminding me of my value.
And thank you to everyone else in my life who may or may not know my story, you surround me with light and love.