April is National Sexual Assault Awareness and Prevention Month, and I’ve been thinking about you. I thought about you mostly on Thursday when taking an evening walk, and I made a mental note to write to you.
I had mixed feelings, though, when I got closer home because some part of me felt scared; it preferred hiding and letting the month pass away in silence. Sometimes, talking about sexual abuse awakens facts that we’d rather forget, realities that we’d rather bury.
But you know what? The thought of creating awareness and speaking hope to survivors of sexual trauma was refreshing. So, I chose the scary yet fulfilling thought because trauma thrives in silence. And we only heal when we own and honour our voices and stories.
Long walks energize me. I desperately need one right now; I can feel my chest and calves demanding it, but the rainy weather outside would only cause me to let my fingers do the walking on this lovely, loyal computer that I’m grateful for. So, let’s hang out in my little corner of hope, shall we?
I attended a meeting recently, and something came up. We talked about the sense of discomfort and regret that comes up after we’ve shared our stories of harm. It actually has a name – ‘Vulnerability Hangover.’
Sharing our stories comes with a cost. Sometimes, the cost is a sense of regret, self-doubt, stigma, anxiety, PTSD, or a desire to take back our words and disappear. All these expressions are normal. Sometimes, they show up as a response to the non-verbals we get when narrating our stories, the disbelief from others, or doubtful questions and comments that come up.
Since the brain’s main agenda is to keep us safe, many times it takes note of the unsafe feedback and begins drifting into survival mode, that is, sending signals for the system to either prepare to fight, hide, escape, or please the audience.
When this happens, it sometimes manifests physically through your voice shaking or drying up, your stomach hurting, your mind going blank, your heart racing faster, sweating more, some tightness in your chest or shoulder, and sometimes thoughts getting mixed up. Can you relate?
So, what do we do in those moments? I’ll share with you what I’m learning and what has been working for me so far:
- Pause and acknowledge what’s going on in your body
Remind yourself that you’re safe and you can stop if you feel so dysregulated. If this happens in a therapy session, mention the body sensations to your therapist and process them together. If it happens in a large crowd, then begin moving your body gently; this could mean walking a few steps to the right and back to the left.
If you’re seated, then sitting upright, dropping your shoulders, feeling your feet on the ground, or moving them slightly while regulating your breath will help you remain grounded. Sometimes, acknowledging to your audience that “Sharing this part of my story is usually difficult, but I appreciate your support” may also provide the stability you need to go on.
2. Choose to share only what feels comfortable
Your story is sacred. You have the right to choose what to share and what not to share. We heal in layers. And every time we share some part of our story in safe spaces, that part gets healed. Listening to our intuition and God’s guidance, we’ll know what to share, how to share it, and when to share it.
3. Have clear objectives and expectations
Here are a few questions to ask before sharing your story:
- What’s my motive in sharing my story?
- What do I expect to gain from sharing my story on this platform or with this person?
- Who has earned the trust of knowing some parts of my story?
- What will I need to stay grounded after telling my story?
Sometimes, the need to have our pain validated may lead us to share our story prematurely. The need to have our pain validated is normal. In those moments, it’s okay to reach out to someone safe who has earned your trust for support.
If there’s no one to talk to, then give your thoughts and feelings an audience through journaling or some creative art.
4. Create an aftercare list
I learned this after I noticed the pattern of getting dysregulated whenever I shared something vulnerable. It took time to learn that it’s normal to get dysregulated when processing deep wounds. This helped me be more compassionate with myself. Then, I began putting up a list of activities, resources, and people I may need when ‘Vulnerability Hangover’ checks in.
One of the things I do is remind myself that to be vulnerable is to be human; there’s no shame in vulnerability.
Sometimes, you may need a hug from a loved one and their reassuring voice. Sometimes, it’s your favourite hot drink; sometimes, it’s spending some time out in nature. What else soothes you? Please add that to your list.
Remember, not everyone has the capacity to honour your story. Not everyone who has empathy has compassion. Sometimes, that shows up as them breaking confidentiality or asking stigmatizing questions.
When that happens, choose not to take it personally. Learn to set boundaries and trust intelligently. If it comes from someone who matters to you, then tell them that their response sounded off. Not everyone knows how to support you. Not everyone is trauma-informed, but we can teach people in our lives how to best support us. That is how we create safe spaces for other survivors.
You are God’s co-author in your story. You get to choose how to tell it, when to tell it, who hears it, and how it will shape your life. Sexual trauma does not define you. It’s just a part of your story. It’s not your whole story. You are a beautiful story. You are not alone.
Love,
Faith
Faith is a Children’s Content Creator at Learn & Grow enterprises, Storyteller and Mental Health Advocate. She tells her story to offer hope, help and healing to survivors of sexual trauma.