I'm Not Writing This for You

This week, it seems like every woman* I know has written a #metoo post about experiencing sexual harassment, sexual assault or rape. Whatever their reasons for posting, I thank those women for their bravery. However, there are plenty of women, like myself, who have chosen not to talk about their traumatic experiences in a Facebook post. And that doesn't make us any less brave or desirous for change. It simply means that we don't owe you our stories.

I'm not going to share the details of my own experiences with sexual harassment and assault, but I will share some details about how #metoo has affected me over the past few days:

• Curiosity. I see a few posts that simply say "me too." I don't know what we're talking about. I keep scrolling through Facebook to learn more.
• Realization. I almost named this bullet point "horror" but I think that word conveys too much of a sense of surprise. I know what we're talking about. My heart hurts for my friends and acquaintances, but I am not surprised. I know this stuff happens. A lot.
• Solidarity. I start liking people's posts and think about making one myself.
• Doubt. Is being catcalled enough to make a post about? Is being grabbed on a dance floor enough to make a post about? Have I been sexually assaulted? Did I say no loud enough? Did I say no at all? Is that consent?
• Pain. I'm talking breaking-down-in-the-shower kind of pain. The pain that comes with realizing how much of rape culture you've internalized. The pain that comes with realizing that no one had to hold you down and force you to do anything because you had already created a prison in your own head.
• Healing. I'm not faultless, but that doesn't mean all of this is my fault. 
• Anger. When are we going to start teaching our sons how to recognize when another human being is in pain? When are we going to teach them compassion? And when are we going to expect them to act on it?
• Release. I text one of my best friends a stream of consciousness about what I think of all this. She listens and understands. She offers her point of view. She suggests I write a blog post. I write a blog post. I feel a little better.

I should let you know that I'm not writing this for you. Yes, you reading this right now. I'm choosing to share this in case it helps people who have also been struggling with the weight of trauma, but ultimately I'm writing this for myself. I'm being honest with myself. And I'm writing it all down as a testament to how far I've come and a reminder of how far I have yet to go.

Thanks for reading anyway.

*I realize that the people posting about their experiences do not all identify as female and I would like to acknowledge the important role of nonbinary and gender nonconforming individuals in this movement as well.