Last week, I wrote about three experiences with sexual assault because I had been feeling like I needed to share my story with the public.
A week later, I want to provide some reflections that I have been turning around in my head over the last week:
I don’t really talk about my past experiences with sexual assault. There are a lot of reasons why I don’t., and the the biggest one being I don’t define myself by being a victim or a survivor of sexual assault.
Victim to means that the incident or person won. Victim implies that I died or was severely harmed as a result of the incident and I never recovered.
When I think of being a survivor, it makes me think that I’m the only one. That others around me fell at the waste side and I’m the only one who got through. It also makes me think that I define myself by what happened to me.
The incidents happened. I can’t undo them. I can’t take them back. I can’t ignore that they happened.
I had to overcome.
It wasn’t easy to overcome and to be frank, I haven’t fully overcome. I’m scared of the dark because of the first incident I mentioned. I don’t ever want to see the man who the second incident is about. I have anxiety about the physical affection boundaries I have designed in fear that my husband will not respect them.
But, compared to where I was to where I am now, God’s done so much growing and maturing in me.
So much in fact, He lead to me write about three incidents I never share with anyone ever to random folks on the Internet.
Do I think I’ll be 100% glued together while on Earth? No.
Do I think that when I am with God in Heaven I will be? Absolutely yes.