Let’s Talk: Sexual Violence
The smell of roasted peanuts. Black Hole Sun on the radio. The satisfying ache in the soles of my feet from hours of endless standing after a day of hard work. Pine trees swaying ever so slightly in the wind after a summer storm. The creaks of rusty playground swings.
Throughout our lives we all have a handful of moments that change us forever and these moments, every single piece of these moments, become engrained in us forever. They affect how we view and interact with people-our families, friends, strangers, and of course, ourselves.
I want to talk about what was probably the first of my defining moments.
I want to talk about love within community. I want to talk about the strength found in safe spaces and the power found in sharing our stories. I want to talk about sex. More specifically, I want to talk about sexual violence.
Now, if reading that sentence was even slightly as uncomfortable for you to read as it was for me to type (because hi, mom and dad) then I think we’re taking a step in the right direction. I believe this because I think it’s important to know that it’s okay to feel uncomfortable. It’s okay to feel unsettled, to feel challenged, to feel confused, and I think it’s important to realize that there will be conversations that are going to put us in positions where we feel uncomfortable, vulnerable, and awkward. However, we still have to have these conversations.
They’re necessary.
They’re important.
For years, as many survivors, I struggled with finding the ability to talk about the guilt, shame, anger, and brokenness I felt because of my sexual assault, and because of this, I felt extremely alone. However with time, I slowly began to open up to counselors, friends, family, and my church community and through this, I discovered more love, support, and encouragement than I ever imagined. Since learning to talk openly about the hard and ugly pieces of my story, I have seen that support and love, as a whole, tend to be universal. I have also found, that a sincerely heartbreaking amount of people share my same story, but have yet to find that same sense of community, love, and support that I did.
Today, thanks to @nonnapicci, I was able to attend our local Walk A Mile In Her Shoes, a march that encourages men to walk a mile in heels in hopes of starting a conversation about sexual assault and gender violence. I was surrounded by men and women alike who had come together as a community to bring awareness to something that is often brushed aside.
Events like Walk A Mile In Her Shoes are important because they inspire survivors to speak up and allies to listen. They inspire community, compassion, and a sense of moral responsibility to ourselves, to our friends, to our neighbors. They inspire us to remember that these men and women in new stories are more than just faces we casually scroll past on our facebooks. They inspire the confidence to have those difficult, uncomfortable, important conversations.
I pray that this is more than just a post you casually scroll past, that this inspires change, action, and the desire to not only start uncomfortable conversations, but to be a safe place for someone to share their story, to be someone who steps in and speaks up and asks questions, to listen, believe, empower, and support survivors.
The smell of roasted peanuts. Black Hole Sun on the radio. The satisfying ache in the soles of my feet from hours of endless standing after a day of hard work. Pine trees swaying ever so slightly in the wind after a summer storm. The creaks of rusty playground swings.
Throughout our lives we all have a handful of moments that change us forever and these moments, every single piece of these moments, become engrained in us forever. They affect how we view and interact with people-our families, friends, strangers, and of course, ourselves.
https://www.rainn.org/national-resources
