Take Back the Night

Take Back the Night was not something I had even heard of until I was walking home from the cafeteria one evening while attending Florida Southern College.  There was a small group of college students, mostly women, gathered around with candles and one woman was speaking aloud.  It caught my attention, and I stayed for a bit, and then the small crowd dispersed and I headed back to my sorority house.  I didn't give it a ton of thought at the time except to think how I could never speak out loud like that in front of a group of students.  I would later find out that the Take Back the Night Foundation was started by Katie Koestner, the female that I heard speak my first week at college that forever changed me.  You can read more about her and the foundation on the link above. 

Fast forward many, many years.  I would never attend or even hear of a Take Back the Night event for a long time.  Maybe because it wasn't on my radar.  Maybe because it was something I was ignoring and choosing to believe that I'd dealt with, and I preferred not to think about it anymore.  I'm not sure, but it would be so many years later once I was married, living in Iowa, a mother, and working at a small private college, and I saw the event advertised.  It sparked something inside me.  Faculty and staff were encouraged to show their support.  I showed up probably a half hour into the event.  It was much larger than the small gathering I'd seen at my own college so many years prior, but yet overall pretty small scale.  We lit candles, walked the campus, spread awareness, and many people took to the microphone to share their stories.  I snuck out somewhere at that point.  It was so hard to hear.  My heart was heavy.  Perhaps still not ready.  I would never attend again, however; year after year after year I would look up the Take Back the Night events in the areas in which we lived.  Always held during April or October, always at college campuses, always put on by a college group and community involvement encouraged.  Never did I attend.  I'd put it on my calendar, think about going, feel like I could muster up the courage, and talk myself out of it time and time again.  It felt like a bit of a personal failure.  I felt like I needed to prove to myself I could do this.  Mental note tucked away that I WOULD do this eventually. 

I felt like it was no coincidence that I found an event this year without hardly looking.  It would be held just 3 days before my 40th birthday.  If this wasn't a sign of overcoming a personal goal and falling into line with my whole silly #pricelessby40 mantra, I don't know what was.  So, on a Wednesday evening after work, a baby shower, and all of life's normal "stuff", my parents had offered to take the kids to a movie that night, and so it worked out perfectly for Mat and I to attend UNF's Take Back the Night. There was no one I'd rather have had by my side.  He often knows me better than I know myself.  He knows when to just be there and doesn't have to say much at all.  This was one of those times.   We arrived in time to have a cup of coffee and enjoy the beautiful evening a little bit before it got started.  I couldn't help but get a picture with my beloved Greek letters out in the lawn.  ;)
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Zeta Tau Alpha

 The event began with students and the drumline walking across campus.  They were met at the Student Union Center by Jacksonville Women's Center (a community group which has a support group I once tried), campus officials and community members.   The drumline performed, and then people took the stage.  The history of Take Back the Night was shared, the student president and other leaders spoke, the University President spoke, and then the microphone was opened up to anyone who wished to share their "survivor story."  This is the typical format for Take Back the Night, and I wasn't sure if I'd feel led to share or not, but I jotted something in the notes section of my phone right before I left just in case I did.  I knew if I did get up to speak I'd be so insanely nervous that I would need to read something.  My plan was to just feel it out and see what felt natural.  The timing didn't end up feeling right for me that evening, and I'm totally at peace with that, but had I spoken aloud, here's what I would have said/read....

"I stumbled upon my first Take Back the Night event purely by accident at my own college campus nearly 20 years ago.  I stood quietly amidst lit candles and soft voices and didn't dare say a word.  It would be many, many more years before I would say much of anything, and tonight I stand here as a personal goal to myself at this Take Back the Night event.  You see, I turn 40 in just a few days and with milestone birthdays often come a sense of goal setting and reaching a certain stage in life.  My goal to myself is to no loner let any shame or fear control me, but to use my experience for good and my voice as power.  You see, I wasn't assaulted by a stranger in a dark alley, something wasn't slipped into my drink at a party.  I always thought that's what rape was.  No, I actually invited the person over myself.  I had gotten myself into a poor situation one evening at a party, and I knew I was out of my comfort zone.  I was guilty for making poor decisions that evening and I will fully admit that.  I called upon a person I admittedly had a crush on, and a person I thought was a much safer choice than the situation I had gotten myself into.  Not only did I invite him over, but I even was okay with hooking up with him at first when he made a move.  The shame I've carried for my willingness and the role I played on the whole situation kept me from denying what really happened to me that night, but I can now finally admit and say that I was raped, and I didn't ever deserve to lose control of my body.  You see, no matter if you liked the person, never met the person, said yes for a moment, said no from the get go, or maybe changed your mind somewhere in between, no means no means no.  There is no way around it and no sugar coating it.  It took me hearing a speaker at my own college campus to fully realize what had happened to me and recognize it as rape.  She was the one that founded Take Back the Night, and her story was the voice I needed to hear at that time and was the first step in my telling someone.  My own journey has had ups and downs, but my hope is that my voice tonight may be what someone else needs to hear to know they are not alone, it's not their fault, and it's never too late to begin the process of healing."

Perhaps one day I will attend again, and I will stand in front of others and read this.  But also, maybe I won't...I'm really not sure yet.  My personal hurdle feels accomplished in just attending.  I put it on my calendar and I actually went.  My parents knew I went, my husband was by my side, and I wasn't hiding anything.  I was me, I was loved, and I was showing my support for the many women and men who were in the crowd that night that did share and those that didn't.  And although this teeny tiny blog is just a little piece of my heart, it never fails that each time I share a piece of my heart, another person I know reaches out to me to tell me their story.  The shock should have worn off by now, but it doesn't.  It brings me to tears and to prayer and yet somehow also this feeling of my voice being used for a reason  of something way more powerful than myself.  For whether it's in my written word or my spoken word, I have no doubt that as much as I wish sometimes I could "take back the night", God will use me for comfort of someone else who needs to know they are not alone. 

Candles lit by Mat and I

Silent All These Years

I never imagined I'd be discussing Grey's Anatomy here.  There's all of about three shows that I enjoy watching regularly, but my Grey's is #1.  Okay, maybe it's a toss up with This Is Us, but I mean, I kind of consider it one of my guilty pleasures keeping up with 15 seasons in a row of this show.  That's dedication!   I tend to think of it more like lunchroom talk with colleagues or gabbing with a girlfriend discussing the latest McWhatever doctor!  Last night took me by total surprise.  I had seen some vague posting on Facebook that made me realize it was going to be some type of trauma related event, but I certainly had no idea what all it entailed.  Grey's took it to a whole new level with one of their most serious episodes I can ever recall.  Season 15 Episode 19 (in case you'd like to watch it for yourself) was titled "Silent All These Years."

As the show started, they gave a disclaimer about it pertaining to sexual assault and Mat commented, "Are you sure you should watch this?" But, oh I am soooo glad I did.  I can't imagine how difficult it must be to write a script around rape and then act it out well enough to do it justice, but on all accounts I thought this "Silent All These Years" episode was SO well done!  From the writing, to the acting, to the statement made for survivors everywhere, it was so needed.  Somewhere, somehow in the media, sexual assault survivors need to hear that they are believed, they can respond as they choose, and they are supported in their decision.  If you're interested, read  more about what sparked this episode.

And to top it all off, the discussion between father and son on what consent is and why it's important was the icing on the cake.  I'm so glad to see it portrayed in an easy going yet serious conversation, with a smile on the dad's face, but just telling it like it is.  Our kids need to hear this, and kudos for this portrayal. Seriously, if you can't/don't want to watch the episode, at least watch this part (the last segment).  This is a conversation that needs to be had and not just assumed that our sons and daughters will know better.

 I'm truly not trying to sit on a high horse of feminism.  I don't think that's me at all, and I hope that I don't come off that way, but I could so identify with the birth mother as she was telling Jo a bit of her story, and where it totally went from consensual to non-consensual and what a powerful and heartbreaking experience that forever changed her life. These were her words...

"I actually had to work to calling it rape, to begin with, because I did say yes to the that date, and I did say yes to getting in that car. Someone, somewhere along the way, a man most likely decided they wanted to qualify this word rape be it "date rape," acquaintance rape, somehow it isn't as real unless it happens to a woman running through the park at night or walking down a dark alley. Somehow because I knew him what he took from me didn't matter, but it did. I found a way to hear that; I found a way to believe that, and I found a way to move forward."

I'm far from a character in a TV show, and thankfully I wasn't faced with the horrible decision of how to handle a pregnancy post-assault, but I also wasn't the woman in the ER either who had been so horribly brutalized.  Also, I wasn't a girl in a dark alley attacked by some stranger, like I naively always thought was what it meant to be a rape victim.  And I am choosing not to focus on all the horrible things I thought about myself or what I deserved, and if anyone would believe me, but I am rather choosing to celebrate what I have since learned.  What I know now, and I soooo want to make sure other young women know, as well as my son's eventually too, is that your voice is your power.  Just because someone may have the power to silent you temporarily, doesn't mean they have it forever.  I've worked at it so hard, and especially in this last year, but I too have found a way to move forward.  It's taken me way longer than I wish, but I am here now, and I am so Priceless in the Lord's eyes, in my husband's, and most importantly....day by day, even in mine.  Whether it's with my voice, with my writing, through prayer, or all of the above, it's one step at a time.  

Less Than 3 Weeks

40 is done slowly creeping up, and it's more like running right towards me.  Less than 3 weeks to be exact!  Progress?  Yes.  Meeting my goal by then?  Nope.  A sweet friend spoke words recently that resonated with me...it's not a finish line, it's constant work and self-improvement.  She is so right, and I am reminding myself of that daily, if not multiple times a day, lately.  I'm not where I wanted to be by 40, but I am soooo much closer.  And will I ever really be exactly where I want to be?  Will I ever really feel like I have it all together?  I seriously highly doubt it...and perhaps if I did, that would be a problem. Don't ya think?  This I know for sure though...some days I am so proud of myself.  Some days I feel like I am kickin' butt, am strong, am eating right, taking care of my body, having my time with God, and all while loving myself.  But some days, I just don't.  Some days I get so disappointed in myself for not exercising, being too tired to make that nice meal I wanted to prepare for my family, for falling asleep in the midst of trying to pray, for not putting God first, for not reaching out to a friend or family member.... but I am in the midst of all those great days, bad days, and just okay days realizing that each one of them hold a special purpose.  Some days I will feel strong.  Some days I will feel weak.  And some days I will just just skim by keeping the faith and putting one foot in front of another.  I think surely we must all have those days.  Sometimes it's just about trusting, and for me I trust in God.  I trust in my faith and in His power.  I can't see it, but I can feel it, and in my lowest of lows is often when I turn to Him the most.  In my highest of highs is when I often give Him the most thanks.  And in all those in between days, I know He loves me regardless.  I am so thankful that he never turns his back on me, even when I have turned mine on him. 

I strongly believe our heartaches are used for good somehow.  I saw that firsthand through our journey with infertility, and I believe it through this circumstance as well.  I struggle to know how or when, but I have faith that it will happen, and when it does it will all finally become clear.  I have no idea if I am truly meant to speak out about my assault.  Those that know me well know that I hate public speaking!  The thought of getting up and speaking about one of the most painful moments in my life sounds crazy...but yet, I keep feeling a nudge. I know the moment I heard a woman speak about her own experience with date rape was the first moment it clicked for me, and slowly but surely the wheels were set in motion. If I could possibly be that voice someone else needs to hear, then my own insecurities about public speaking seem so ridiculous.  I don't know exactly when, how or even IF it's truly meant to be, but after some prayerful consideration, today I just submitted an application to the RAINN National Speaker's Bureau.  It will be awhile before I find out if anything comes from this, and if so, what the next steps will be, but here's one more faithful step in this crazy journey of healing, and for that I shall give thanks. 

Hidden

Welcoming in 2019, it felt like I was due to write a little bit.  It's been a wonderful Christmas break this season, and I'm wrapping up the final weekend before heading back to work.  As much as I've enjoyed the lazy mornings, lots of family and friend time, a plethora of hot baths, reading, walks, and sunshine, I'm kind of craving the routine of school as well as seeing my student's faces and hearing about their adventures over the break as well! 

When I began writing this blog, the title came easily to me.  I had a clear goal in mind and knew that I wanted to feel and believe that I was truly priceless by the time I reached 40.  That included a wide variety of things like facing some fears, getting healthier, embracing my true self, and seeking a stronger relationship with God.  It meant claiming my brokenness, and using it to dive deep into self forgiveness and strengthening my relationship with God. I've done better in some areas than in others, and the hardest thing for me is to be moving forward in all areas at the same time. Overall, I've made some great progress towards my goal, but the last month or so I have really slacked off.  Of course, like with all things, the New Year serves as a reminder of new beginnings, and it's time for me to step it up in working towards this goal as my 40th birthday is creeping up in just a little over 12 weeks. 

In the midst of my holiday relaxation, and dare I say pure laziness, I have been doing quite a bit of reading.  It's probably no coincidence that the couple books I was focused on over the break were Discerning the Voice of God, It's Not Supposed to Be This Way, and even an article I'd saved and wanted to really look over closely called, "When God Calls You Out of Hiding."  Well dang, even I didn't really realize it at the get-go, but there is sure a common theme there directly related to my current feelings.  I'm not 100% done with reading all 3 of these, but man they've been hitting me hard! I've felt such a longing these last couple of years to really feel God's presence in all of this....for him to speak to me through my pain and utilize it for His good.  I want to feel like something wonderful comes from this, and I just want to feel his nudge towards what that is.  I've felt like I'm waiting and waiting.  In my reading and self reflection though, I'm realizing just how much He has been nudging me.  He's been speaking to me through my circumstances, through the situations presented to me, and to the people he's placed in my life that have brought spiritual counsel, guidance, and leading me towards the realizations that they knew I had to discover on my own.  It's Him all around me, and my eyes just hadn't been open enough to see it.  Kind of like I've kept this piece of me hidden for so long, I've kept His role in my journey hidden as well.  He's been there the whole time though.  It's me who has been doing the hiding.  He's the patient one with me. 

I am also learning that this is my weakness.  This is my brokenness. It is what it is, and we all have that "thing."  No amount of therapy will take that pain away altogether.  It's okay though, I think, as long as it doesn't cripple me or hinder me from enjoying my life. Brokenness doesn't mean destroyed.  Weakness doesn't mean there isn't also strength. We all have some brokenness, and this is one big part of mine. 

I won't forget the fear.  I'll never completely let go of the shame.  I'll never 100% stop doubting my choices that night and what it lead to no matter how many people tell me it wasn't my fault.  I won't forget the sore bruises down my neck and back.  I won't forget all the blood. It's stained in my memory. I won't forget my muffled cries under the pressure of his hand over my mouth.  I won't totally forgive myself for first agreeing and then changing my mind.  I won't forget the coldness. Shivering cold. I won't forget the weight of another body making it feel hard for me to breathe.  It's okay, and it's not okay all at the same time.  It's not okay that this happened and continues to happen to soooo many people all the damn time.  It's okay though that this is my piece of brokenness.  This is my weakness that brings me to knees or leaves me in a heap of anxiety and tears every now and then.  It's no worse than your brokenness or your fear.  It's just mine, and I'm done hiding it.  God is helping me face it, and he's aligning all the resources with amazing people, books, opportunities for me to embrace it, give into the pain, and seek Him through the healing. Finally, this is my time.  No more hiding it.  Will I ever truly be "healed"?  I don't know.  That sounds pretty far off right now, but I know that stepping out from hiding feels pretty empowering, and I hope that in 12 more weeks, my Pricelessness  (pretty sure that's not a real word, but we're going with it) is something I am even more confident in as I step into my forties!

xoxo