This One Is Heavy

This is your first and only warning. If you choose to read on: be warned that I’m talking about a sensitive subject relating to sexual trauma.

I am not an overly shy person, usually. And even before I started posting about my endometriosis on Instagram and trying to help people understand, or cope, or just be there for somebody else by posting blogs on the BuzzFeed community page, I tried to help by sharing a different experience.

I’m crying right now, while I write this. And you don’t need to know that, but I’m telling you because I don’t want to give the impression that this is easy. I’m not sure if this is going to come out right, or how people are going to respond.

About a month before my official endometriosis diagnostic and excision surgery (September 19^th 2019), a doctor asked me a question no other medical doctor had ever asked me before: do you have a history of sexual trauma? Were you ever sexually abused or assaulted?

I answered honestly, as I haven’t usually been shy in sharing this information with people – when appropriate. Yes. I was sexually abused as a child, until I was around 9 years old. I put a stop to it after we watched a video in school about sexual abuse, a video that a lot of my classmates made jokes about – not realizing that watching it and hearing the lines repeated literally made me vomit. To this day if someone quotes that video, I feel like i’m going to throw up.

I told my parents, I told my best friend. And then the teacher, and the principal, and the school guidance counsellor, and the school’s child therapy teacher (I have no idea what her actual title was) were all informed. The police were informed, obviously. Legal action was taken, and as a minor I didn’t have to be present in the court room but I knew exactly what was going on the whole time, even though I was in a small room with a couple of people – who were apparently police officers and therapists. We were playing Go Fish. I remember having to go to therapy where they really do make you point at a “doll”. I had to answer questions for police officers about the sexual anatomy of both males and females, I assume to make sure that I knew what everything was. I was fuckin’ 9 years old and talking to grown-ass police officers and therapists who asked me all kinds of questions that I answered honestly, but made me incredibly uncomfortable, without my parents present. I know I did the right thing, but it was still an incredibly weird and difficult experience.

I’ve never felt like a victim or thought that the whole situation was my fault, and I didn’t feel shame. My parents didn’t raise me in an environment where I was so afraid to tell them something that I let abuse continue until it took an even worse toll on my life. So, I am blessed as fuck to have the parents I have.

But I’m not saying that the entire thing didn’t have any effect on me just because I wasn’t forced to keep it all a secret for my whole life. It definitely did. The doctor asked me the question about sexual trauma because apparently having had sexual trauma in your past can leave a psychological scar that can contribute to chronic pain. Obviously, it isn’t causing my endometriosis, it’s a coincidence that I happen to have sexual trauma in my past AND that I developed endometriosis. But I feel like having both doesn’t help me in any way?

The only positive thing I’ve ever seen out of either of these “issues” is that I can help other people. I’ve only recently come forward about the endometriosis and the extent of my pain and my feelings about it, but I’ve actually been sharing the fact that I was sexually abused since I came forward with it. And that’s because almost immediately after I made that decision and set everything that would stop it into motion, I found out that the person who was abusing me was also starting to abuse another little girl. A little girl who was even younger than me.

And because I said something, it stopped for her too.

I don’t think she was any older than 4 years old, maybe 5. I knew her. I remember when she was born.

I felt good about myself. Proud I said something, proud I stopped something terrible from happening to another child. My teacher told me she was proud of me and that I was strong, so did others. And we need to hear that we are strong more often, because it’s something that SO many people are, but a lot of the time we just don’t give ourselves enough credit. Or there’s some weird “omg you’re so full of yourself/conceited” reaction, as if self-esteem is a problem. Value your own strength because it is NOT overrated. The whole experience shaped who I am in a lot of ways, some of them I’ve only realized recently.

I loved helping that other child. And I knew that a lot of other kids (and teens, adults, etc.) never say anything when something bad happens to them, especially of a sexual nature. There is a taboo surrounding the whole subject, and for some reason we have been taught to feel shame, keep quiet about it, and let it eat at us forever rather than talk about it. But immediately I didn’t want other girls to feel the fear I felt before I said something, and I was afraid. I didn’t just suddenly decide to speak out, it was a bit of a process which involved me feeling terrified. And then there was the actual experience, which was scary and confusing and horrible. But I took the lessons I learned from the experience and tried to use them to help other girls, especially my friends.

Obviously, I’m not going to name names, I don’t even know all of their names because some girls I’ve talked to about their own experiences are complete strangers (one as recently as this week). But it is disgusting and shocking how many of my friends over the years have had some type of sexual abuse or assault in their lives. Many of them have had more than one experience.
[side-note: when i say “experience” here, i don’t mean one isolated event. I mean either an ongoing experience of abuse/assault- ex. i’m not sure how long mine went on for, I don’t know how young I was when it began because I don’t remember. But I know it was years, and I sure as hell know when it ended. – or an isolated event, or both, etc.]
I’ve talked to a lot of my friends and to strangers about these things, and in a lot of cases they had regrets about not speaking out when the “event(s)” occurred, but now felt that too much time had passed so they didn’t want to bother. And it’s not my place to tell their story or to try and force them to say something, it’s an incredibly personal and complicated decision that no one but you can make. But I always wanted, and want, to be someone people can talk to about it because when you carry around pain, physical or otherwise, it takes an insane toll on you, and no one should have to live like that.

I can’t be the only woman to have endometriosis or a similar illness, or any chronic illness, and also have sexual trauma in my past. It’s impossible.

Now that I know chronic pain and sexual trauma are linked, I really can’t keep the two things separate anymore. Both things have shaped me as a person, and my life, and both things have had a negative impact on my life. I am now trying to use my own negative experiences in a positive way by making sure that anyone who sees my posts or hears me speak doesn’t feel alone.

Because you aren’t alone, EVER.

And fuck the taboo. If we don’t speak out about these experiences, things aren’t ever going to change.   

I’m strong as fuck. And I recognize that, and I say that without giving a damn if people say I’m conceited or full of myself, or whatever else, because I think people need to give themselves more recognition for overcoming adversity. I don’t see the problem in knowing your own self-worth, having self-esteem, or having pride in your own strength.

We hide too much. We feel shame about too much and it’s because we are put down and we were taught to feel ashamed and hide our pain and hide our “uncomfortable” experiences. Well fuck that. You don’t need to make yourself uncomfortable if you don’t want to, but it should be your choice to keep something to yourself because that’s what you want to do, NOT because society or people you know is making you feel that way. If more people spoke out about sensitive issues, they would eventually cease to be taboo. People would feel more connected to each other, not isolated and afraid.

You can also follow me on Instagram and Twitter where I post whatever I want to, and try my best to advocate for endometriosis.