I’m Fine - Why Do You Ask?
Marie:
Cathy never directly told us the entire story. We were five friends, bonded together tightly as one of us suffered and died of cancer in our twenties. Nevertheless, Cathy was different through it all – very distant and cool as the rest of us struggled with feelings.
“Sexual assault is much more common than we think, while false accusations are much rarer … When we confront allegations of assault, in politics and in culture, we should understand the realities that sexual assault survivors face when speaking out about their experiences.”
Cameron Kimble, BrennanCenter.org ‘Sexual Assault Remains Dramatically Underreported’
It is now more than 35 years later that we friends put together the bits of information and things Cathy had told us and hinted about over the years. Each of us friends had a piece of the puzzle, a snippet of information or a glimpse. When we put it together, there it is, rising to the surface, just now after all this time – it is clear that Cathy has been the victim of abuse as a child in her own home.
Eighty percent of rapes and sexual assaults go unreported, according to a Justice Department analysis of violent crime in 2016.
We all thought Cathy was okay, but she was not. I asked myself what I could have done differently, or what I would do now if a friend were in an unspeakable situation like that. I’ve learned to listen – and listen long and hard.
It is important to acknowledge that they are in a scary and difficult situation. Let them hear that the abuse is not their fault. I want any friend of mine to know that I am listening, and will keep listening whenever they feel they can talk about it, and that I will believe them.
Janet:
Since sheltering in place since March, 2020, we made the decision to move. I needed to see the ladies in the management office of our building to go over some details. We talked in masks about my hair, of interest since, two years ago, I decided to go natural. We chatted and laughed about pictures of women who go natural, looking on the cracked face of a cell phone, showing pictures of what not to do. Then, one of the two sisters, asked about our project and how it was going.
I said the usual, proud, almost there, thrilled and happy, when one of them said, “What’s it about again?” tapping on her keys to find our web page. I explained that we are a book and a movement for people who have experienced sexual trauma. There was a beat, maybe two when one of the sisters casually started to say, “You know, my grandparents had a ranch….” She explained the background, a loving tangle of details, how often she visited, how pretty it was, what her favorite parts were, how much she loved doing things with her grandparents. Then she said “There was this man.”
She started to roll it out, bit by bit, the thing that terrified her as a little girl, how scared she was, and how she kept it secret. Her sister, sitting behind the desk as she told her story, spoke up “What? You never told me that story!” I asked, “Why?”
She said the chilling words about the thing we never tell – “Because I was ashamed.”
In a blog posted by Sandra Cohen on Your Tango, she writes,
“….childhood trauma is devastating, no matter what form it takes. It affects your self-esteem, trust, future relationships, and sense of safety in the world. And, no matter what you do to forget, the secrets haunt you every day. You wonder if it was your fault or, you don’t want to remember or, remembering makes you relive it or, you wonder if it is better to move on or, you think no one would understand.”
Sandra Cohen, Your Tango
I lived with my secret for years, through college, marriage, and children. When it came out, in a coaching call before I led a seminar on intimacy, it was a tear filled squeak, “Uh, I was raped.” After the breathless confession, our conversation shifted to one of support so I was able to pull up the solid wall of separation I’d built since I was a fifteen year old girl and lead the sessions.
It was out. I never told my mother, but by the time I told others I needed to tell her. I made a trip to visit. We talked and I told her what happened. She cried and then, she told me what happened to her. Terror of being found out, loss of hope, ashamed, and worst of all, she kept it a secret. We were the same, two women sharing what’s common and shouldn’t be.
Marie:
And for you, my reader, I want you to know that there is help and support out there, not only for the victims of abuse, but also for those who love and support them. Those who care play a crucial role in the healing and act as a bridge toward being able to trust again. There are resources for the caregivers’ role too.
As we learn and bring these stories to light, there is hope that a larger healing will emerge, the healing of a justice system that has failed so many. Your stories, brought to light, bring strength and power to a time and place where deep changes can occur.
Janet:
Our Silent Voice stands for the silent, the quiet survivors of domestic and sexual abuse. We know trauma is hidden. Now we’ve collected stories from those who have bravely stepped forward and shared, out loud, for justice and resolution. We hope it will be a bestseller, but more importantly we hope it will be loud and raucous, the voices of people - all colors and genders speaking to the high heavens...We are no longer silent!
Look for the book – Our Silent Voice, Volume I