PART TWELVE: A PAUSE

I’d like to say that the title of this part, being “A Pause”, is so called because after separating myself from my son’s father I did just that. I’d like to say I took a pause, self reflected, worked on loving myself, went into counselling, and began the process of creating a strong foundation for myself. But such was not the case.

I’ve titled it “A Pause” because I’m going to take a pause in posting the remainder of my memoirs. There is still plenty to share. I continued writing my memoirs reflecting on other relationships in my life and how they were affected by the rape, including those with my parents, my husband, my children, and all three of my siblings. However, I still haven’t yet decided if sharing it is wise or worthwhile. Though worthwhile to me in this journey of healing, forgiving and understanding myself, and learning self-love, I‘m still unsure how it would affect my relationships with those people. After four decades of up and downs with my family, they are the rocks that I turn to when I need them, as I am for them. When I was in the thick of the trauma and after effects, I couldn’t see their value, their worth, nor their love, just as I couldn’t see my own. And I know I hurt them in the process. And in no way, shape, or form, do I want to hurt them again.

Perhaps a time will come when sharing will feel more appropriate, or perhaps I will get blessings. Who knows? But in the meantime, I’m putting “A Pause” on it all.

I think the question I most often get when someone learns of my writing my memoirs is, why? And I guess it’s a fair question. I’m still young. I still have a lot of life to live. Sure, I’ve been through a lot, but wouldn’t another 20 or 30 years give me even more perspective, more time for self reflection and understanding it all? The answers are as follows:

1. It’s been truly cathartic for me. For years, though I wasn’t afraid to tell people I’d been raped or sexually assaulted, there were parts of the experience that stayed stuck in dark recesses of my brain, that I couldn’t verbalize. Writing them down finally allowed for some of them to come to the surface. I no longer feel like they’ve been chained down somewhere inside me without an outlet. It’s been freeing.

2. It’s been amazingly therapeutic. By writing the experiences down, I’ve been able to (somewhat) remove myself emotionally from them and truly self-reflect on what happened and my role in it all. Please don’t read that as an admission of guilt. I, nor anyone who is ever assaulted, did not ask for or deserve any of it. But in living my own story, and revisiting it time and time again in my head (through thoughts, nightmares, fights with myself, family, or friends, and through therapy) I have to come to the realization that though I didn’t ask for it, though I’m not to blame, though I was an innocent child, I still played a role in it. I made choices that put me in that situation. Reviewing my role in it is what made it therapeutic for me and allowed for real healing to begin.

3. I want to help others. I’ve met other women who’ve been sexually assaulted and/or raped in all stages of their recovery, survivorship, or healing process. And in my opinion, the scariest and most dangerous part of the process is when you can’t acknowledge, quantify, or accept it. That’s typically a stage in which they’ve told no one, and likely haven’t even accepted the experience themselves. So, though volunteering at crisis centres and lines is important, and being there for someone who is past that point in the process is also valuable, if sharing it in a way that allows one to read it anonymously helps even one person on the very beginnings of their journey, then it’s all been worthwhile.

4. It’s opened doors to parts of me that so many in my life have never glimpsed into. Whether it was because I wouldn’t/couldn’t let them, they didn’t know it was there, or they didn’t want to see it. It’s there now. And they can look in whenever they‘d like or are ready to. They can even go as far as they want, or simply catch a small glimpse. And their exploration into my past, hopefully in hopes to better understand me, is safely away from me so they can process and react however they want or need to in the safety of their own space. They don’t feel pressured to react a specific way, nor do they feel uncomfortable around me because I’m not right there. Through counselling, there were so many “aha!” moments where I finally came to understand why I do certain things, or react certain ways. If I can share those with people who care enough to better understand me, why wouldn’t I?

Thank you, friend, for being on this journey with me. Whether you’re here because you care about me, about the subject, or just stopped by and your interest got piqued. Thank you. I hope this project has helped you in some way. I hope it gave insight into the human condition. I hope you’ve found a purpose in reading it. And I hope you share it with others. Please do. It would mean so much to me, and to many other survivors out there. The more understanding and empathy we can create surrounding this subject, the better for all in our community of humans.

Spread love, kindness, and empathy.

xo

b

P.S. Stay tuned, I’m sure I’ll pick back up where I left off in the near future.

Ⓒ July 2022. Beki Lantos. All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means without prior written permission of the author.