(Me Too)
If you are going to read this blog post, please read the beginning to understand where I am coming from. Thank you.
Tonight, I had a conversation at work with someone I knew in high school, who talked to me a bit about her anxiety. She said she had just started to get treatment for it when she found out that her roommate was moving home due to her anxiety issues. The next thing she said really stuck with me. She said (rough quote), "Maybe if we'd just talked to each other, and been open about our problems, we would have been able to help each other."
Big observation, right?
We are so quick to hide our problems and our pain. Maybe if we were all more open with each other, we could help each other.
I've been pretty open with my mental health. And the stigma around mental health is pretty big.
However, the stigma around sexual assault is even bigger. As a society, we blame victims. We say "why didn't you say no?" or "why didn't you leave?" We look at the people as dirty or unpure. And we make it worse for them to move on and feel valuable again.
Here's the deal. I have been praying over sharing this story for the past few months. But tonight, the girl I talked to really made a good point. I've prayed so much about this that recently, I finally found the strength to contact him and tell him I was working on forgiving him.
I shared this story last night on my private Instagram account (that I use for bad drawings, ugly pictures, and a daily photo journal that is a bit too goofy to be public). The responses I got were mostly about wanting to be "as courageous" as me. (But I didn't feel very courageous just posting for the few people on my private account.) This word "courage" keeps coming up in my life lately. God is teaching me to be more courageous, and even though it is hard, when I give things to God; it's better. And through the storms of my life, I've learned that when I share my pain, I can help others. So here we go again, with a story of my life being shared, to help others.
With my mental health story, I was fine to share with everyone and anyone. I encouraged it. I put the privacy to public and allowed anyone to read it. But with the following story, I would like for you to not share it. I'm going to put the privacy to "just friends, except..." and I am going to keep some people off of that list. It's not anything against them, I'm just wanting to keep some people off of it. This story is more personal and brings me more pain. If this can help you, here it is, and feel free to talk to me. I'm wanting to learn how to be helpful.
I'm not going to go into any specific details about what happened necessarily, but this is a story about sexual assault and a manipulative relationship, so while I'm not sure when trigger warnings are necessary, but this is just a heads up.
So here it is. My story that would go along with #MeToo. The feelings I have that accompany this are overwhelmingly of shame. I was supposed to be strong enough to know my worth, push people away, and be smart enough to not let this happen to me, to not let myself be manipulated. But I wasn't. After about a year, I'm just starting to accept that this was not my fault.
It really doesn't make a difference what the specifics of the sexual assault were. I'm still a virgin, as I plan to be until I am married - I take my purity seriously, and personally believe that my vow to God to wait is a great lesson in patience, among my many other beliefs about this promise I made to God. I don't want to shout that from the rooftops because that's not the point of my personal thing with God, but I just want you to know, I'm not someone who "asks for it" in any way. (This shouldn't really matter in this story though, and it doesn't mean I look down on those who engage in premarital sex. This is just my belief for myself.) What really matters is the impacts that this had on me.
I will not say publicly who I am talking about. Some of you know him well, and I am working on forgiving him. If you do know who I am talking about, or can figure it out, please keep his name to yourself. I truly don't believe what he did was intentional, but that might just be me still trying to see the best in people. This has been really hard for me to come to terms with, and it happened about a year ago - again, I'm keeping the timeframe less specific to try to keep him anonymous. Shaming him isn't the point of my sharing.
At the beginning of our "relationship," (we were never truly in a relationship) I was just beginning treatment for anxiety and depression. He took advantage of this. He knew I felt isolated and that I wanted and needed a friend. He manipulated me into believing he was the only person that would "put up" with my "crazy" habits. He convinced me to stop taking my antidepressants and anti-anxiety medicine to prove to him that I wasn't crazy. Of course, he didn't say any of these things directly. He didn't have to. At first, he was really supportive and incredibly nice - but after a few weeks, this went away. I was constantly trying to prove to him that I was a "better, non-crazy" version of myself.
He would "tease" me, and if I was uncomfortable with what he said, he'd just tell me to grow up and be less sensitive. I was newly 19, and just learning how to not be a high schooler. He is a bit older than me, and I figured he was right. I just needed to grow up. He was older, and he consistently read the Bible, so I figured he had my best interest in mind when he told me things like that. He also wouldn't come into my house and talk to my mom ever, and he never tried to talk to my beloved little sister, Brynn. He said we were too old to be hanging out with each other's families before we were "really serious." I guessed he was right, but he wasn't at all. I love the time I get to spend with my mom and Brynn, and no other guy is going to take that time away from us ever again.
He continued this cycle. He'd "break up" with me for little reasons, then he'd call me again in a few weeks. I wouldn't make a big deal of the times he "broke up" with me, because I knew he'd call again. (Looking back while writing this - I KNOW I SHOULD HAVE RECOGNIZED THIS PATTERN. I study Criminal Justice, for Pete's sake, Hannah, c'mon.) Even after we were "truly done," he would check in on me about once a month. These things are all classic signs of manipulation, but I didn't really notice, or I guess, even know.
I didn't actually notice how bad any of this was until a class this fall. I was sitting in class, and we were discussing rape laws. While we were defining sexual assault and rape, and talking about manipulation tactics, I was realizing I personally understood what was being discussed. That night, I went home, and I blocked his number and social media accounts. I needed space and time to pray, think, and try to heal. This helped me gain the perspective I needed to gain. (My awareness alone has helped me to heal a TON.)
Many of the major problems I've had within the last year can be attributed to him, (and again, I don't think he necessarily intended for any of this to happen). He had me believe that God didn't see me as someone a "man of God" would want to date. He made me believe that I was too crazy for anyone else to want to spend time with me. He also caused me some serious body-image problems. All of these things probably were major contributions to the problems I've had in the last year: the 3 suicidal episodes that almost put me in the hospital, the serious weight-loss/weight-gain roller coaster that has ended up with me gaining a decent amount of weight, and me isolating myself, since I believed nobody would want to put up with me.
While I have always had anxiety problems, this has made it much worse, especially in social situations. I no longer handle being alone with males well. Besides about 2 male friends and my brother-in-law, it makes me incredibly uneasy to be alone with a guy. Even just my uncle's hand on my knee scared me, and he's probably the best, most well-intentioned man I know. This breaks my heart.
On top of that, the isolation tactic made my last year really tough, and continues to be an obstacle for me. Since I don't drink, he told me I was boring and would never make "real" friends without drinking. I'll admit, it isn't super easy, but it is NOT impossible, and the friends I make are more genuine. (Again, if you drink, that's fine - as long as you aren't having problems with it of course. I just don't drink for my own reasons, with my anxiety being a LARGE one.) I've still not had a drink, but there are some things I've done this year that I probably wouldn't have done if I wasn't trying to prove to myself that I wasn't a boring waste of a 19/20 year old.
This is undoubtedly hard to move on from. This guy barely knows the impact this has had on me. He read from his Bible and took me to his church, just to assault me in the same day.
Something that is really tough for me with this is how I don't know how to talk about. I didn't tell my mom for weeks after I recognized what had happened, because how do you tell your mom about something like this? I felt disgusting, and ashamed, and so, so stupid. I didn't even have a chance to try to tell my older sister until like, this week. And sometimes when I bring it up to my female friends, I just try to laugh it off because I'm not sure how to even say it without seeming like a broken person. Sometimes I want people to know so they understand my uneasiness in some situations, but other times I don't want anyone to know because I just want to be free to be myself. But I'm learning to move on.
Yes - TIME IS UP. Not just in organizations like USA Gymnastics, in Hollywood, or in DC, but in small towns in Nebraska, and worldwide, too. Let's work towards the future.
By the way: Thank you to those of you who have known, kept it to yourselves, and helped me work towards moving on in my own life. I hope sharing my story will be able to help someone else out, just like the person I talked to tonight reminded me.
Though the song I keep thinking of is fairly juvenile, the message is not. "God is bigger than the boogie man." ... Indeed.
Tonight, I had a conversation at work with someone I knew in high school, who talked to me a bit about her anxiety. She said she had just started to get treatment for it when she found out that her roommate was moving home due to her anxiety issues. The next thing she said really stuck with me. She said (rough quote), "Maybe if we'd just talked to each other, and been open about our problems, we would have been able to help each other."
Big observation, right?
We are so quick to hide our problems and our pain. Maybe if we were all more open with each other, we could help each other.
I've been pretty open with my mental health. And the stigma around mental health is pretty big.
However, the stigma around sexual assault is even bigger. As a society, we blame victims. We say "why didn't you say no?" or "why didn't you leave?" We look at the people as dirty or unpure. And we make it worse for them to move on and feel valuable again.
Here's the deal. I have been praying over sharing this story for the past few months. But tonight, the girl I talked to really made a good point. I've prayed so much about this that recently, I finally found the strength to contact him and tell him I was working on forgiving him.
I shared this story last night on my private Instagram account (that I use for bad drawings, ugly pictures, and a daily photo journal that is a bit too goofy to be public). The responses I got were mostly about wanting to be "as courageous" as me. (But I didn't feel very courageous just posting for the few people on my private account.) This word "courage" keeps coming up in my life lately. God is teaching me to be more courageous, and even though it is hard, when I give things to God; it's better. And through the storms of my life, I've learned that when I share my pain, I can help others. So here we go again, with a story of my life being shared, to help others.
With my mental health story, I was fine to share with everyone and anyone. I encouraged it. I put the privacy to public and allowed anyone to read it. But with the following story, I would like for you to not share it. I'm going to put the privacy to "just friends, except..." and I am going to keep some people off of that list. It's not anything against them, I'm just wanting to keep some people off of it. This story is more personal and brings me more pain. If this can help you, here it is, and feel free to talk to me. I'm wanting to learn how to be helpful.
I'm not going to go into any specific details about what happened necessarily, but this is a story about sexual assault and a manipulative relationship, so while I'm not sure when trigger warnings are necessary, but this is just a heads up.
So here it is. My story that would go along with #MeToo. The feelings I have that accompany this are overwhelmingly of shame. I was supposed to be strong enough to know my worth, push people away, and be smart enough to not let this happen to me, to not let myself be manipulated. But I wasn't. After about a year, I'm just starting to accept that this was not my fault.
It really doesn't make a difference what the specifics of the sexual assault were. I'm still a virgin, as I plan to be until I am married - I take my purity seriously, and personally believe that my vow to God to wait is a great lesson in patience, among my many other beliefs about this promise I made to God. I don't want to shout that from the rooftops because that's not the point of my personal thing with God, but I just want you to know, I'm not someone who "asks for it" in any way. (This shouldn't really matter in this story though, and it doesn't mean I look down on those who engage in premarital sex. This is just my belief for myself.) What really matters is the impacts that this had on me.
I will not say publicly who I am talking about. Some of you know him well, and I am working on forgiving him. If you do know who I am talking about, or can figure it out, please keep his name to yourself. I truly don't believe what he did was intentional, but that might just be me still trying to see the best in people. This has been really hard for me to come to terms with, and it happened about a year ago - again, I'm keeping the timeframe less specific to try to keep him anonymous. Shaming him isn't the point of my sharing.
At the beginning of our "relationship," (we were never truly in a relationship) I was just beginning treatment for anxiety and depression. He took advantage of this. He knew I felt isolated and that I wanted and needed a friend. He manipulated me into believing he was the only person that would "put up" with my "crazy" habits. He convinced me to stop taking my antidepressants and anti-anxiety medicine to prove to him that I wasn't crazy. Of course, he didn't say any of these things directly. He didn't have to. At first, he was really supportive and incredibly nice - but after a few weeks, this went away. I was constantly trying to prove to him that I was a "better, non-crazy" version of myself.
He would "tease" me, and if I was uncomfortable with what he said, he'd just tell me to grow up and be less sensitive. I was newly 19, and just learning how to not be a high schooler. He is a bit older than me, and I figured he was right. I just needed to grow up. He was older, and he consistently read the Bible, so I figured he had my best interest in mind when he told me things like that. He also wouldn't come into my house and talk to my mom ever, and he never tried to talk to my beloved little sister, Brynn. He said we were too old to be hanging out with each other's families before we were "really serious." I guessed he was right, but he wasn't at all. I love the time I get to spend with my mom and Brynn, and no other guy is going to take that time away from us ever again.
He continued this cycle. He'd "break up" with me for little reasons, then he'd call me again in a few weeks. I wouldn't make a big deal of the times he "broke up" with me, because I knew he'd call again. (Looking back while writing this - I KNOW I SHOULD HAVE RECOGNIZED THIS PATTERN. I study Criminal Justice, for Pete's sake, Hannah, c'mon.) Even after we were "truly done," he would check in on me about once a month. These things are all classic signs of manipulation, but I didn't really notice, or I guess, even know.
I didn't actually notice how bad any of this was until a class this fall. I was sitting in class, and we were discussing rape laws. While we were defining sexual assault and rape, and talking about manipulation tactics, I was realizing I personally understood what was being discussed. That night, I went home, and I blocked his number and social media accounts. I needed space and time to pray, think, and try to heal. This helped me gain the perspective I needed to gain. (My awareness alone has helped me to heal a TON.)
Many of the major problems I've had within the last year can be attributed to him, (and again, I don't think he necessarily intended for any of this to happen). He had me believe that God didn't see me as someone a "man of God" would want to date. He made me believe that I was too crazy for anyone else to want to spend time with me. He also caused me some serious body-image problems. All of these things probably were major contributions to the problems I've had in the last year: the 3 suicidal episodes that almost put me in the hospital, the serious weight-loss/weight-gain roller coaster that has ended up with me gaining a decent amount of weight, and me isolating myself, since I believed nobody would want to put up with me.
While I have always had anxiety problems, this has made it much worse, especially in social situations. I no longer handle being alone with males well. Besides about 2 male friends and my brother-in-law, it makes me incredibly uneasy to be alone with a guy. Even just my uncle's hand on my knee scared me, and he's probably the best, most well-intentioned man I know. This breaks my heart.
On top of that, the isolation tactic made my last year really tough, and continues to be an obstacle for me. Since I don't drink, he told me I was boring and would never make "real" friends without drinking. I'll admit, it isn't super easy, but it is NOT impossible, and the friends I make are more genuine. (Again, if you drink, that's fine - as long as you aren't having problems with it of course. I just don't drink for my own reasons, with my anxiety being a LARGE one.) I've still not had a drink, but there are some things I've done this year that I probably wouldn't have done if I wasn't trying to prove to myself that I wasn't a boring waste of a 19/20 year old.
This is undoubtedly hard to move on from. This guy barely knows the impact this has had on me. He read from his Bible and took me to his church, just to assault me in the same day.
Something that is really tough for me with this is how I don't know how to talk about. I didn't tell my mom for weeks after I recognized what had happened, because how do you tell your mom about something like this? I felt disgusting, and ashamed, and so, so stupid. I didn't even have a chance to try to tell my older sister until like, this week. And sometimes when I bring it up to my female friends, I just try to laugh it off because I'm not sure how to even say it without seeming like a broken person. Sometimes I want people to know so they understand my uneasiness in some situations, but other times I don't want anyone to know because I just want to be free to be myself. But I'm learning to move on.
Yes - TIME IS UP. Not just in organizations like USA Gymnastics, in Hollywood, or in DC, but in small towns in Nebraska, and worldwide, too. Let's work towards the future.
By the way: Thank you to those of you who have known, kept it to yourselves, and helped me work towards moving on in my own life. I hope sharing my story will be able to help someone else out, just like the person I talked to tonight reminded me.
Though the song I keep thinking of is fairly juvenile, the message is not. "God is bigger than the boogie man." ... Indeed.
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