A night with a sexual or physical assault victim can take an advocate or survivor down a very dark path if they aren’t careful. But it can also be a gentle reminder of their own strength and help them fight another day. It may give them courage to speak truth despite the fears that rage inside or it can quiet them and cause them to get lost in their own hurt and pain. Advocates struggle with memories, too!
Every survivor that I’ve encountered have memories. But each memory tends to be covered with grace. Although the memories hurt, they find a way to soften the reality somehow. Time does not help. Time will play tricks in the mind of a survivor and prompt them to disassociate from reality. Many will begin to replace ‘the bad times” with “the not so bad times” and “the not so bad times” with “the good times” eventually asking themselves “what was all the fuse about?” I’m convinced this is the body’s way of helping process what has happened in a way that is less invasive and tormenting.
Regardless of how long I advocate and work with victims and survivors of abuse, there is something about responding to a sexual or physical assault call that makes my heart sink, my stomach knot up and brief flashbacks of my own abuse take over my thoughts. Those first few minutes after the person identifies their self and
what they are calling about, I freeze. And on the ride to the location, I fight to stay present and not replay my own abuse or the feelings of guilt and shame associated with it. It’s because of those moments I’ve questioned if I should be advocate. But I now know that it is because of my experience that I make a great advocate.
One would say why would you feel guilty or shamed? Well, you clearly have never been a victim of abuse or in a toxic relationship. Those feelings for me were drilled into my psyche. I was told over and over how his behavior was my fault. How by talking about it I was bringing shame to the family and to God. How I needed to get thicker skin. The shame for me, was because I felt I wasn’t living up to the expectations that was established for me. I didn’t know it was abuse; it had become my norm.
Last night, as I sat with that young lady, looking at her bruised covered body, the sound of her saying “I should have known better. I should have listened to my gut”. Then to hear her conversation switch to “I shouldn’t have made him so mad. It’s all my fault”, triggered an anger inside of me. It was the anger I never allowed myself to feel against my own abuser. I had a quick flash back of standing in front of the judge as he said to me “I can see the bruises from here, but I need you to tell me what happened.” Full of fear my words became stuck between my voice box and my mouth. Nothing would come out and the longer I stood there the more embarrassed I felt for allowing this to happen. Yet the fear of what would happen if I said anything overtook me. I struggled with how I would be viewed. How he would be viewed. What if they took my kids. What if he got so mad that he left, I didn’t a job. How would I take care of my kids? What if the next time it was worse. What if a restraining order only made him madder. What if, what if.… Had it not been for the domestic violence advocate I would have stood right there and talked myself out of requesting the restraining order.
When I looked in the eyes of this young lady, I could see the fear as you struggled to make a very hard decision of pressing charges. My heart broke for her because I understood it so well. You just want the nightmare to be over. You are even willing to take an “I’m sorry” even though you know you had heard it before.
My job is not to convince that woman to leave. Although I’m going to do my very best to, my job is to stand beside her and support her decision. My job is help her see her value and understand no one has a right to hit her and make feel less than. Finding her worth hardly ever happens that night but to know that someone heard her and supports her decision is life changing.
I still struggle with sharing parts of my story and I don’t always see my own worth. But with each day and each victim I speak with, I see the purpose in what I went through and why it’s so important for me to share my story. My abuser cannot hurt me anymore. My self-worth is stronger than the fear I have of him. The desire to help others is more important than what someone who refuses to see the truth thinks of me. Knowing that I have helped someone find their voice makes mine stronger. No more victim! No more shame! No more guilt! At least not until the next the call and it pushes me even harder to stand up for those that don’t have the strength to stand up for themselves. At least not yet!
Until Next Time,
