Dear Survivors: Don’t be Afraid to Speak Your Truth

I spent countless years thinking about how hearing my story may negatively affect those around me, instead of focusing on how telling my story may positively affect me.

There are a number of times in the past where I’ve wanted to speak up about my assaults, but was too ashamed or embarrassed to do so. I was afraid of how others might react. What if friends and family started treating me differently? Or blaming me? Or asking me questions about my traumas?

I was silenced by fear.

I didn’t want to be judged by loved ones, acquaintances, or even strangers. There is an old adage that true friends will stick by you no matter what. I had heard this a million times and I accepted it as truth, but I think I was always too scared to test it out. I was afraid of finding out that no one actually cared enough to stay.

So, I kept things status quo. I bottled up my traumas and my depression and anxiety, tucked away my PTSD, and hid my panic attacks so I didn’t “scare” anyone away. This worked for a while… until it didn’t.

As time went on, if I was noticeably triggered by something, I felt compelled to tell my story, to explain my “over”reaction. It rarely had the desired effect. Oftentimes, it led to an uncomfortable silence and a topic change. It felt like I was never able to talk about my assaults on my own terms. I only spoke up if I was backed into a corner and needed to justify an emotion.

This decision to only speak about my traumas re-actively, however, was a conscious choice. Without much effort at all, I can think of a few friends I lost because hearing about my assault was “too much to handle” and I “had too many problems” or I was “too negative” or a “downer”. It wasn’t worth speaking my truth and risking losing more friends. At the time, it hurt like hell, but looking back, I wouldn’t go about things any differently.

Whether I like it or not, my trauma is a part of me. It in no way defines me, but it has influenced various aspects of my life in ways that I can’t ignore. And I deserve friends who willingly accept every mangled, broken, little piece of me.