Healing from Sexual Assault + PTSD
Trigger Warning: Rape and Sexual Trauma
In November 2019, a childhood friend and my roommate at the time raped me while I was drunk asleep in bed. I wrote about the experience here once I’d realized what happened months later. (I didn’t publish it until I was out of Providence in Maexico.)
I wrote about the experience so publicly because if I hadn’t discovered endless posts from other women sharing their experiences on Reddit, I would have never figured out what had happened to me and why I felt so horribly (aka why I was drinking a bottle a day and working out so much).
I got with a therapist in August 2020 and I’ve been working with her ever since. Within 15 minutes of our first session I was diagnosed with PTSD (not to mention the womb-trauma because he also got me pregnant which led to an immediate abortion — thank you, Past Mae).
She’s helped me save my life because there was a point when I just didn’t wanna have to feel pain everyday.
I’ve worked so hard on my healing journey and although I still have a long way to go, my dedication to moving forward is my greatest accomplishment to date. I’ve never been more proud of myself.
I still get flashbacks. I sometimes wake up sobbing (as I did today) and I don’t know why. Every once in a while I check my locks a few times before going to bed, but this is nothing compared to the mental anguish that I was going through before. Here are 3 ways I gracefully allow myself to heal:
1. I talk + write about it.
As a kid, I didn’t really know how to verbally express myself (aka I wasn’t in an environment that was receptive to me expressing myself) so I would write letters, mostly to my grandmother and to my dad when I was angry. As much as I shared my experience to help others, I especially shared it to help myself. I find liberation in writing about my experiences and not just the good ones.
As I’ve moved my way through the healing process, I’ve been able to articulate my feelings to the greatest friends ever. I’m so grateful that they take the time to listen when I’m triggered and are so patient with me as I still try to figure out what makes me feel safe.
2. I sit with my emotions.
As I mentioned, even though my body knew all along that I was raped and that was reflected through my behaviors, I mentally didn’t realize until months later. Makes sense right? I didn’t wanna acknowledge the trauma that was crippling me.
Now, I sit with my tears, fears and overwhelm when they arise. Today I woke up on a cloud and then just started sobbing and thinking about my abuser. Instead of force myself to get back to that cloud, I allowed myself to lay down, cry and breeaathe through the thoughts. Which then led me to writing this article.
Instead of questioning how I’m feeling or what I’m doing, I just go with it. I actually trust the process.
3. I only entertain safe people, places and circumstances.
If you wanna be my lover, you gotta be a safe space. I’m not emotionally equipped to deal with any unsafe vibes. Men who like to get loud during high-energy discussions? I’m out.
All the friends who maed me question myself and my feelings? They been cut.
(The flip-side is that I’ve discovered this trauma has been holding me back in business. Risk taking is a big part of entrepreneurial life. Have I been playing it safe because I’m scared on a cellular level of scary situations? I think so.)
If I check into a beautiful Airbnb and for some reason something doesn’t feel right, I’m out.
This whole experience has forced me to be in-tune with my intuition and always listen to my gut. Whether you’re recovering from trauma or not, your gut always know what’s best.
Again, I share all of this with the hope that it will help someone else feel a little less alone. There are no words to describe how isolating this type of trauma can feel. I’m no therapist, but if you ever need to vent, holla at me. ❤️
