Why it's worth speaking out
Was it worth speaking out? Is it worth speaking out?
I ask myself this often.
I have broken the silence. Sometimes I'm glad. At other times I wish that I could turn back time and erase the day I did it as it is sometimes hard. People don't respond well. They don't respond as you expect and it's painful.
But, they are my darker moments. And, I know that it was a good thing to speak out. I would do it again. That isn't because it's easy. It isn't because it's magically made everything better. Far from it. Breaking the silence, in some ways, has made things harder. It has caused me to think about things I didn't want to deal with. It's caused me to accept some difficult things. It has also produced some really unexpected fruit - helping others and being part of a community of survivors. They give me such strength and love.
So, these are the reasons that I'm so glad that I broke the silence and spoke out about my abuse and assault:
It's helps me to deal with my assault
When I was living in silence, I thought I was dealing with my assault well. I thought that I was able to keep it inside and deal well with it. I thought that time would heal and I'd just be able to move on. I was wrong.
As time passed, I realised that I was suffering the effects of the childhood sexual abuse and an assault as an adult in many ways. Despite my belief that time would heal, the memories of the abuse and assault didn't go away. I'd find myself remembering what happened. I felt paralysed. The pain was like a volcano brewing inside me, waiting to erupt. The pain didn't go away. I felt like a cloud was always following me. A dark cloud that overshadowed my life and robbed any hope of happiness and joy.
I found it hard to trust my husband, regularly jumping to the conclusion that he had bad motives and didn't really love me. This meant that I felt trapped in my marriage. I felt scared in sex and many things that he did caused me to remember what had happened before. I was reliving the assault and abuse and so was feeling numb and hopeless.
Breaking the silence for me changed everything. It opened the door to me dealing with these things: to begin to accept the wounds that were there. To learn to accept them and accept me for who I was. To begin to trust my husband and see that his motives were not like my abusers. To begin to enjoy sex with him and open up to him for the first time.
I'm not saying that everything is perfect. It's not. These things are still hard. But, I'm moving forward. The cloud is lifting. The volcano isn't as strong. Breaking the silence helped me to deal with my assault.
It helps me to help others
One of the privileges of breaking the silence is that I can help others. I have starting this blog with a twofold aim: to give me an outlet for my healing journey and also to encourage others. By sharing my experience and journey towards healing, I hope to be able to help others. This wasn't the main reason that I decided to break the silence, but it has become one that I've become more and more passionate about as time has passed. It is such a privilege to be part of a community of people who've broke the silence and who are campaigning for survivors to be heard and these atrocities to be taken seriously. Breaking the silence has helped me to help others.
It helps me to relate to others
As I've already alluded to, the abuse and assault damaged my relationship with my husband. But, not only that: looking back, I'm convinced that all my relationships were affected by what happened to me because I was holding a massive part of my life back from others. I felt like I was living a lie. I felt like I had a horrible secret and so struggled to open up at all.
When I started to share my past with a few trusted friends and began to talk about it normally - in a way that didn't make me out to be a freak or worthless human - I started to heal. I started to open up and enjoy friendships rather than fear them. I started to open up about my life more and enjoy interaction with others. Breaking the silence changed the way that I related to friends.
It helps me to apply the truth
I thought that I was doing well in believing truth in the midst of silence. I didn't think I was believing lies. I thought I had a good handle on my thought life. But, when I started talking about it, I realised that this wasn't true: I was believing lies. I believed that it was my fault. I didn't even accept that what happened to me as a 20 year old was an assault. I felt guilt for it because I couldn't believe that a boyfriend could hurt me like that. This had all sorts of consequences. It caused me to feel worthless and different to others. I didn't feel like I belonged. I felt dirty.
When I broke the silence and started to share these thoughts with others, I realised that I'd been believing lies for a long time. My identity had been shaped by lies. Untangling them is an ongoing process and journey, but it has helped me so much. I am now beginning to see that I wasn't to blame. I have come to accept that I was assaulted as an adult and it wasn't my fault. The fact that I was abused as a child didn't mean that there was something wrong with me and I was asking for it. No, I wasn't to blame. I was a victim and am now a survivor with worth and value.
It took me a long time to begin to believe this and I'm still on that journey. 'Rid of my Disgrace' by Justin and Lindsey Holcomb was a massive encouragement on that road and I'd encourage others to read it. Breaking the silence helped me to believe the truth. I've written several posts in response to 'Rid of my Disgrace'. The most helpful paragraph in the book (here) inspired me to write several posts here, here, here, here, here and here.
Look after yourself,
Julia xx
I ask myself this often.
I have broken the silence. Sometimes I'm glad. At other times I wish that I could turn back time and erase the day I did it as it is sometimes hard. People don't respond well. They don't respond as you expect and it's painful.
But, they are my darker moments. And, I know that it was a good thing to speak out. I would do it again. That isn't because it's easy. It isn't because it's magically made everything better. Far from it. Breaking the silence, in some ways, has made things harder. It has caused me to think about things I didn't want to deal with. It's caused me to accept some difficult things. It has also produced some really unexpected fruit - helping others and being part of a community of survivors. They give me such strength and love.
So, these are the reasons that I'm so glad that I broke the silence and spoke out about my abuse and assault:
It's helps me to deal with my assault
When I was living in silence, I thought I was dealing with my assault well. I thought that I was able to keep it inside and deal well with it. I thought that time would heal and I'd just be able to move on. I was wrong.
As time passed, I realised that I was suffering the effects of the childhood sexual abuse and an assault as an adult in many ways. Despite my belief that time would heal, the memories of the abuse and assault didn't go away. I'd find myself remembering what happened. I felt paralysed. The pain was like a volcano brewing inside me, waiting to erupt. The pain didn't go away. I felt like a cloud was always following me. A dark cloud that overshadowed my life and robbed any hope of happiness and joy.
I found it hard to trust my husband, regularly jumping to the conclusion that he had bad motives and didn't really love me. This meant that I felt trapped in my marriage. I felt scared in sex and many things that he did caused me to remember what had happened before. I was reliving the assault and abuse and so was feeling numb and hopeless.
Breaking the silence for me changed everything. It opened the door to me dealing with these things: to begin to accept the wounds that were there. To learn to accept them and accept me for who I was. To begin to trust my husband and see that his motives were not like my abusers. To begin to enjoy sex with him and open up to him for the first time.
I'm not saying that everything is perfect. It's not. These things are still hard. But, I'm moving forward. The cloud is lifting. The volcano isn't as strong. Breaking the silence helped me to deal with my assault.
It helps me to help others
One of the privileges of breaking the silence is that I can help others. I have starting this blog with a twofold aim: to give me an outlet for my healing journey and also to encourage others. By sharing my experience and journey towards healing, I hope to be able to help others. This wasn't the main reason that I decided to break the silence, but it has become one that I've become more and more passionate about as time has passed. It is such a privilege to be part of a community of people who've broke the silence and who are campaigning for survivors to be heard and these atrocities to be taken seriously. Breaking the silence has helped me to help others.
It helps me to relate to others
As I've already alluded to, the abuse and assault damaged my relationship with my husband. But, not only that: looking back, I'm convinced that all my relationships were affected by what happened to me because I was holding a massive part of my life back from others. I felt like I was living a lie. I felt like I had a horrible secret and so struggled to open up at all.
When I started to share my past with a few trusted friends and began to talk about it normally - in a way that didn't make me out to be a freak or worthless human - I started to heal. I started to open up and enjoy friendships rather than fear them. I started to open up about my life more and enjoy interaction with others. Breaking the silence changed the way that I related to friends.
It helps me to apply the truth
I thought that I was doing well in believing truth in the midst of silence. I didn't think I was believing lies. I thought I had a good handle on my thought life. But, when I started talking about it, I realised that this wasn't true: I was believing lies. I believed that it was my fault. I didn't even accept that what happened to me as a 20 year old was an assault. I felt guilt for it because I couldn't believe that a boyfriend could hurt me like that. This had all sorts of consequences. It caused me to feel worthless and different to others. I didn't feel like I belonged. I felt dirty.
When I broke the silence and started to share these thoughts with others, I realised that I'd been believing lies for a long time. My identity had been shaped by lies. Untangling them is an ongoing process and journey, but it has helped me so much. I am now beginning to see that I wasn't to blame. I have come to accept that I was assaulted as an adult and it wasn't my fault. The fact that I was abused as a child didn't mean that there was something wrong with me and I was asking for it. No, I wasn't to blame. I was a victim and am now a survivor with worth and value.
It took me a long time to begin to believe this and I'm still on that journey. 'Rid of my Disgrace' by Justin and Lindsey Holcomb was a massive encouragement on that road and I'd encourage others to read it. Breaking the silence helped me to believe the truth. I've written several posts in response to 'Rid of my Disgrace'. The most helpful paragraph in the book (here) inspired me to write several posts here, here, here, here, here and here.
Look after yourself,
Julia xx
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