Tuesday, May 01, 2012
This past month has been one of the toughest I've had in a long time.
Ten years ago, just after Easter I was raped. This is not something that I've told many people, and it is a heavy admission. It shouldn't be. It wasn't my fault. Even though it was my boyfriend who raped me. Even though I was excited by the prospect of having sex. Even though I was not married. Even though I was young. My rape was not my fault. And yet, it is one of my closest guarded secrets.
I know where this tendency to keep bad things secret comes from. It comes from being a young child who was abused by her mother. It comes from feeling that I deserve bad things to happen to me, and when they do, I deserve them. Because I deserve this abuse I should keep silent about it.
This keeping silent causes me to withdraw, to pull away. It is a bad habit, and one that I will break with time.
This April I withdrew from Sparkpeople (and the internet at large). I cut myself off from positive and supportive people without meaning to, falling back on an old habit. An outdated survival mechanism.
To those who worried about me, thank you and I'm sorry. I'll try to keep in touch the next time I disappear down the rabbit hole.