The voice that no longer serves…

Denial of truth doesn’t make something untrue.

How often, we hear the phrases, “he’s such a good man”, “it didn’t happen,  “he wouldn’t do that”, and “I didn’t/wouldn’t do that”?

What perpetrator ever actually says “oh, yeah, I am that guy; I’m an abuser, I’m a rapist.”?

Generally, it’s one person’s word against another’s when it comes to abuse.

So, most often, we don’t speak.

Now, seemingly through every manner of media, survivors of abuse are met with groupthink denials of assault, pervasively based in, when we get right down to it, political affiliation. Assault victims are “all lying”, because a current nominee to the Supreme Court faces assault allegations.

Rest assured, there is just as pervasive a group reaction.

Our initial reactive mind in the face of such pervasive denial?  Words alone can leave us feeling re-traumatized; even re-victimized.  We may spend years rising above, recovering from abuse, from assault, from rape; rebuilding our lives. If you haven’t lived it, you can’t know. To have survived though, we have already learned about our reactive mind. We understand that these haunted, horrifying feelings resurfacing, by whatever trigger, but especially in the face of  current events, are a natural response.

So how do we work past our natural reaction to group dismissal? Whether we have spoken our truth out loud, whether we reported or not, whether we were 35, or 24, or, 6 years old (or all three), we are still here. We are not negated.

Choosing conscious action, be it finding a support group or hitting a punching bag; writing… a journal, a blog; registering (and exercising our right) to vote; writing and calling elected officials; working, living, trying to maintain our gratitude for the good in life – we alone, determine our steps forward.  Listening to our intuition, asserting our positive action, walking our own path, this is where our learning lies and how we continue to grow.

It is also where courage is needed.

The closer we get to speaking up, the louder our inner critic gets, with reasons to keep our mouth shut and our head down. That critic speaks from the past, not the present. That voice no longer serves us, no matter how persuasive.

None of my perpetrators ever questioned my politics.

I was 35. I was 24. I was 6.

I am still here.

I vote … and I am not alone.

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