My relationship with my body is improving
Huge thanks to the survivor who anonymously wrote this blog talking about how she began to have an improved relationship with her body again. She sums up how abuse and trauma is embodied, it is carried in our minds and also in our bodies. She talks about how it’s been vital that she had the chance for her body to heal too and how running has allowed her to connect with and feel back in control of her body again.
At RSVP we have several ways you can reconnect with you body again, from offering tai chi, walking, singing and more at our peer social groups and coffee morning, and through a running group offered by our sister organisation GINA. The group is very small and meets on a Saturday morning at Cannon Hill parkrun. Drop Lisa an email at: lisa@gina.uk.com if you’re interested.
******
Like a lot of survivors, for many years I’ve had a poor relationship with my body. When I thought about it all, I hated it. I felt it had let me down because of the way it responded to some of the things that were done to me. I punished it; I filled it with alcohol, put it in dangerous situations and cut it. Eventually, it dawned on me that my counsellor had been right all along when she told me these were short-term solutions that were ultimately harming me, so I started to run.
At first, “running” consisted of jogging for a few seconds with an extraordinarily patient friend and it’s no exaggeration to say that I looked like one of those nature programmes where baby elephants try to take their first steps – only they have less swearing. Afterwards I had to pretend I was thinking about answers to my mate’s questions (difficult ones such as; are your shoelaces undone?) to hide the fact that I couldn’t speak. Fortunately I’m menopausal- which at least explained away the excessive sweating.
In a short space of time though; seconds of running became a minute, then two. Then I joined a Couch to 5K programme where I was encouraged and coached to run 5 kilometres by some of the most friendly and supportive people I have ever met. That was 6 months ago and I have recently run 10 km for the first time.
Running has been a revelation. My relationship with my body is improving. Rather than letting me down it has powered me to achieve things I didn’t know I could. Now, my heart pounds because I’m running up a hill, not just because I’m feeling anxious again. I’m tired because I ran, not because I sat up all night drinking.
I can feel my calf muscles straining and know that they are mine, that I am my body and my body is me. I can feel aches and pains and interpret them and act on what they’re telling me. For the first time I am learning that other people can talk about my body to me and it is not a threat, there is nothing to fear. When they talk about the shape of my legs or the way I hold my chest it is not a prelude to something awful. It’s another human being seeing me as I am learning to- a whole, complete person that’s doing something amazing and wants to do it better.
When I feel the ground under my feet, it’s impacting on my feet that belong to me, no-one else. They’re my lungs inflating, it’s my chest rising and falling. And I can stop anytime I want to…
Don’t get me wrong – it’s not a panacea. I still get bad days and I can get triggered with the best of them. But now I have an option; instead of reaching for the bottle or hiding in the house, I can go for a run. It can be 60 minutes or it can be six but it leaves me feeling good about myself and in control of what I do. Plus to date, running has yet to give me a hangover.
I still swear at my mate when we’re jogging together though!
RSVP
This poem about RSVP was written by Ann. Thank you Ann for your warm words. And sorry about the clumsy lifts! 🙂
Don’t take this from me,
This calm of places,
The arms that hug me,
The smiling faces.
I need to come here,
I need to fit,
I just need to be
Allowed to sit.
It’s precious now,
To those who come,
It’s strength in numbers,
It allows us fun.
It smells of safety,
It smells of nice.
I feel warm here,
There’s no ice.
The buzzer on the wall,
The clumsy lifts,
The mouse-size toilets,
No-one fits.
The chairs,
The cushions,
The bing-bong bell,
Safe oasis
From our hell.
Don’t take this from me,
I need it here.
I need to know
That others fear,
Reach and huddle,
Meet and cuddle,
Know I’m breathing,
Know I’m here,
Know that
These are people
I don’t have to fear.
Remember
Thanks to the anonymous survivor who shared this powerful poem.
** Trigger warning. This poem could cause distress and bring back painful memories if you have also been subjected to rape, sexual violence and abuse. **
Remember, remember
They said
Remember what happened
Remember the surroundings
Was the light on or off?
Remember
How he placed his hand on my thigh
Gripping it tightly
The pain from his thumb
Piercing my leg
Remember what he did
His hand on my mouth
Stop messing
You want this
I never wanted this.
Survivor poem
This bold and profound poem was written by an anonymous survivor. Thank you for sharing your words with us.
You took something that wasn’t yours to take.
Robbed me of my choice, made me feel I had no voice.
You took something that wasn’t yours to take.
Distorted every image of myself I see, created demons and trapped them inside me.
You took something that wasn’t yours to take.
I don’t forgive you. People will continue to say that forgiveness will set me free. Well then, I forgive me.
I forgive me for allowing what you did to make me think I was worthless. I forgive me for the years of torture now I know that I am blameless.
You don’t define me, I define me.
I will place blame where blame is due, and if even for a moment, you will carry this weight, too.
Not Alone
This poem was written by Ann. Thank you so much to Ann for sharing your words with us and other survivors.
My world
was still,
stopped.
No tick tock,
vacuum
no room
for air or breath.
Now it’s here
the FEAR
marching in my brain.
Alone with no
control,
Insane?
Mistrust,
body rust
brain dust,
it won’t wash,
it won’t quash,
It’s part of me
I can’t cut free.
That second I slipped
Has tripped
my life
I’ve woken up,
I smell of fear
I am not the same.
It’s cost me dear
Because
I played the sickest game.
But still
I can’t give in.
Spiral curl
into a little girl,
wind up my mind
into a spool,
regard myself
as such a fool.
I MUST
reach out
search about
for someone else
like me
at RSVP.
Someone else
who’ll set me free
from being stone
and facing this
all
on my own.
Strength in numbers,
strength in me?
It’s in here somewhere,
let it free.
“Hard to trust?”
I don’t deny,
I might stumble,
I might cry.
But most will
let me share their boat
safe from sinking,
help me float,
its safety
only we can share
it gives me strength
to know you’re there.
Me
This powerful and hopeful poem was written by Kirk. Thank you Kirk for sharing these words.
‘used to have such a happy smile,
Was told I would laugh, all the while,
Things went strange, then they went bad,
I started getting beaten, by my dad.
I got to seven, should have been buzzin’,
Didn’t want to see the abuse of my cousin,
Things were strange, and really bad,
The abuse carried out, by my dad.
My uncle would play, with little boys,
Then came the day, I was one of his toys.
Things were strange and really bad,
My abuser the brother, of my dad.
Our family life, my mom thought quite grand,
She always buried, her head in the sand,
She was strange, and really bad,
I think she knew, of the sins of my dad.
My parents they planned to live ‘cross the water,
On school holidays, they’d care for my daughter
My cousin came out, that plan was defeated
She told everyone, her darkest kept secret
Dad took his own life, he had to really,
He craved his liberty, far too dearly
The way he went, it made me sad,
I never got justice, even from my dad.
These words I’ve written are from the heart
When life gets tough, don’t fall apart
When days are dark don’t give up hope
you have the strength within to cope.
That is not, who I am now,
I have succeeded, oh and how.
I have made changes to my whole life,
Helped by a woman; I’d like as my wife.
Kirk
I owe myself
Thank you to Annette for sharing her poem with us.
Nobody owes me anything
Because I know the people who hurt me will never say SORRY!!
They will never come to justice truly because my pain will never go away
They can never feel the hurt they placed inside of me, not only my body but my brain also, and my heart.
So the reason I owe myself is because I owe myself the time to grieve for what they have taken away from me.
I owe myself to forgive myself for allowing my abusers to cause so much pain, I panic!
I owe myself the time to know I am better than they are.
I owe myself the feeling of not feeling ashamed of who I am
I owe it to myself not to come down to their level and to comfort people in need, not hurt them.
But most of all I owe it to myself to be happy, to be free and to learn to trust, there are good people out there in this big wide world.
Most of all I owe it to myself to feel achievement and proud of who I am today!!
It has been a long journey, but we didn’t learn to walk or talk in one day.
It’s that first step to freedom, then it will become strides.
Be proud that you have taken the first step.
There are times you get hiccups, but everyone does,
Know who you are in life,
Just hold on, and fight for yourself to make your life happier and easier.
If I can do it, I’m sure you can.
Stand up for yourself when the time is right, be PROUD and STRONG
Always, always remember you were a victim, now you are a survivor, stand proud!
You are the better person and always will be.
It will be good when you feel free again and alive, fight for you, for what you believe in.
Don’t let your dreams pass you by, you can live your dreams and be happy.
Remember that saying…turn a frown upside down,
A smile is contagious and a hug from someone genuine can make your day seem a little better!
Fear
Thank you to Annette for sharing her poem with us.
The fear I feel is my own fear,
Of life itself.
So afraid, because I am more aware of pain and sorrow than of joy and happiness.
I know I must not look for bad things all my life,
Accept what happiness I can,
Life’s too short not to enjoy part of it,
I must accept my good times.
Every person, whether they know it or not, has a fear,
I am more aware of mine.
Having time to sit and think sometimes does me more harm than good.
So, I must accept my life and live it to the best of my ability.
From now on I will try and accept my fears and not let them stand in my way.
We all have a person inside of us fighting to get out, to find the reason why we are here on this planet Earth.
The word fear is a very frightening, powerful word.
The biggest fear for me is life itself,
Afraid to turn another corner,
Afraid to open another door,
The fear of not knowing what I have to face next.
Is it really the fear of living I am afraid of or is it the fear of dying?
I may never know that answer.
There are always questions, but not answers, some things are best left without an answer,
So stop searching, accept life for what it is.
Introducing Steph
Hi, I’m Steph. I’m one of the newest Independent Sexual Violence Advocates (ISVAs) to join the RSVP family, joining the team in July last year.
I’ve been an ISVA for a total of 5 years, having worked across various sectors. I was delighted to be invited to join RSVP as I’ve followed their amazing work for years and genuinely felt their ethos and victim/survivor focus was beautifully suited to my working style.
I’m also a survivor. It’s what originally inspired me to do what I do. Since I didn’t have the right support it had a very negative impact on my life for a few years. Wow, I was also cruel to myself.
However, with the right therapy, excellent training opportunities and heaps of determination and hard work, I’m here. I’m an ISVA and I’m incredibly proud of what I do. I love what I do, which is sometimes odd for people to understand. They imagine my job to be a very depressing role and don’t get me wrong, it’s tough. We see people feeling very traumatised, we see their tears, fear, confusion, misplaced guilt and misplaced shame and we feel it with such empathy and compassion. We also see such strength, such determination and the incredible resilience of the human spirit.
You see, being a victim of sexual violence does not define who you are. It’s something that happened to you.
With the right support we see people not only survive but thrive. We empower and support you in whatever way you need that support and we do so with care, compassion and dedication. We’re trained to a high standard to help you understand how to report, if you choose to; the criminal justice system; civil action; the holistic support available to you and your feelings after rape and abuse.
So that’s me, Steph. A down to earth professional who says it like it is. I’ll advocate for your rights, respect you and empower you, to the best of my ability.
Visit here if you want more information about our ISVA service.
Meeting Me
This moving blog post is by Lisa. Huge thanks to her for wanting to share her story of how she finally met the little girl who disappeared overnight after sexual abuse.
Meeting Me
The little girl I was disappeared overnight. Gone was the happy, care free 8 year old and in her place was a sad, frightened and ashamed victim of sexual abuse.
To survive I put that 8 year old in a box, locked it and threw away the key. To think of her reminded me of the abuse and I DID NOT want to remember. To relate what happened to her to me I simply did not allow.
Denial is a powerful thing and I see now a protective thing, but there comes a time when it becomes harmful. The energy it takes to maintain that denial, to keep it hidden is exhausting and I, without question, made myself both physically and emotionally ill for many years because of it.
I did not make a conscious decision to ‘release’ that 8 year old from her box – she just got louder, desperate to be released. She had had enough of being silenced and ignored. For me she literally came bursting out at a counselling session that I had gone to because I was feeling so desperately sad and empty and thought it was time I found out why. With a single question, without any prior planning on my part I revealed my abuse. With that single reply I had unlocked the box and there was no going back.
The years since that moment have been a roller coaster and some of the toughest of my life. It has felt like I have had an open wound that every time it started to heal, just opened again. There have been times I wanted to push her back into the box, go back to denying her existence. I was not aware of the extent of the pain there would be but equally there have been times when I wanted to open the wound completely and clean away all of the badness.
I chose to keep fighting, I have persevered with the primary reason that being to free my 8 year old once and for all. To give her a voice, to tell her she is safe and to let her find the life she deserved.
Me and her are in the process of getting to know one another. I am trying hard to take care of her – showing her she is loved and has nothing to be ashamed of. She is slowly helping me break down the walls I built to surround me, shutting out the world. I realise now that she is not weak or bad but in fact brave and courageous and she sees in me that she survived. Most important of all I am no longer leaving her behind…instead we are walking hand in hand, to a better future and the one we BOTH deserved.