In Which I Refuse To Let Go and Move On

The other day I realized that no woman has ever suggested to me that it’s maybe time to put down the burden of what has happened to me, to tell a different story, to move on. Oddly enough, I’ve only ever gotten this suggestion from men. 

Maybe women don’t make this suggestion because they’re more likely to recognize that what I carry isn’t just one thing that only happened to me that one time. My story of sexual assault and the subsequent fear and powerlessness is the story of all women and all people who have suffered abuses of power. 

A meditation teacher once told me, when issues of trust and fear came up in my practice, that it was a great opportunity to finally put down the trauma I had been carrying for so long. I took that to heart and threw myself into a Buddhist practice that was all about sitting still, being quiet, wrestling with the demons in your mind on your own, and--according to my understanding--doing everything you could to not let those demons (that “karma”) spill out and effect other people, because then you were obviously a less spiritually advanced person.  Who knows what that meditation teacher was actually trying to tell me, but I used the teaching as a form of suppression and avoidance.  Which is not the purpose of Buddhist meditation at all, but when you have a culture that shuns certain experiences and truths (especially those involving fear, pain, and anger), it’s easy to misinterpret admonitions to be silent and still as “don’t bother the world with your problems.”  

Of course, the roles of power abusers and victims of power abuse don’t have to be split along gender lines. I tried to explore this in my YA fantasy The Rage. We all live with fear at times and it’s really easy to abuse any power we find ourselves possessing. I’m far from innocent of that.  I’m sure there are women who advocate moving on in order to maintain the status quo, just like there are men who have experienced the imbalance of power from the other side and know that this is a way of life, not a singular incident to be overcome and forgotten.

Nonetheless, for most of my life the suggestion to let go and move on has sounded like, “This is how to be strong, this is how to be resilient, this is how to be a warrior, a survivor instead of victim…” What it sounds like now is, “Ignore your experience and feelings, numb yourself into something that makes others more comfortable, that validates others’ way of life, that doesn’t disrupt power imbalances...” 

When I stop trying to be someone else’s version of a non-victim, and actually feel what I feel...Let’s just say I can relate to The Hulk.  It would be kind of cool if we all changed shape and color when we felt an overwhelming emotion. 

So, sure.  I’ll move on.  I’ll stop telling this story.  When this is not the reality of all women everywhere. When people don’t have to live in fear simply because of their gender or race any more. Until then, this is my life, this is my story. And I’m going to keep telling it-- rage, pain, grief, and all the other less spiritually advanced bits--until I am heard and understood.