Hell Hath No Fury

I was 11 years old and in elementary school when my friend’s older brother suggested that we hide behind a tree together during what was supposed to be an innocent game of hide and seek (you can read that whole story here: http://ciracenter.org/2016/06/brock-turner-is-not-problem.html).  I was 11 years old when this boy jammed his tongue down my throat, rammed his hand under my shirt and my bra, grabbed at my breasts and attempted to wedge his fingers inside of me. I was 11 years old when I experienced what I now know as dissociation and the submit response - the final and forgotten phase of the nervous system's fight, flight, freeze response - for the first time in my life. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak...I could only cry and stare at the moon for what felt like an eternity because I was so utterly terrified of what was being done to my body without my consent.

I was 11.

Fast forward 26 years.  Brett Kavanaugh has been credibly accused of sexual assault by three different woman and he has just been confirmed as our newest Supreme Court Justice.  Every time I have thought about writing about this, I either start crying and then avoid it or avoid it all together.

What can be said that hasn’t been said already??  

We talk and talk and explain and plead for understanding...to be seen...to be heard...to be validated and none of it matters.  Brett Kavanaugh is still appointed to the Supreme Court. Donald Trump is still President. Women continue to betray their own.  And men will continue to rape, abuse and assault. So what’s the point?? For the last couple of weeks, I’ve pretty much been stuck in this deep, dark place, caught between profound despair and hopelessness and murderous rage.

Because anyone who is a survivor, and many who are not, could’ve told you before it happened that no one would take Dr. Ford seriously.  Because we haven’t been taken seriously either.  

We could’ve told you that even when people pretended to take her seriously, like with a joke of an FBI investigation, that it would end exactly the same.  Because our personal abuse/assault histories were never resolved either.

We already knew this was going to go down the way it did.  Because this is just simply how we treat survivors here - same shit, different day.  But to have it play out on this particular platform at this particular level...despite the fact that we knew it would end this way, it’s also too much.  The entire federal government just made it clear to the entire world that women have no worth other than the sexual gratification of men. They just made it clear that we will never be believed (if a white woman who also has a doctorate isn’t believed, then no one will be believed).  And that if it did happen and we are to be believed, that it’s our fault anyway because insert some rape-culture-victim-blaming statement here.

It’s just too much.

It’s one thing to have our friends and/or our families struggle to say and do the right thing when we disclose our sexual trauma or how it’s affected us.  And as much as we hate it, it’s so normal for us to have no real motivation to report or even disclose what happened to us because...well, we know how that goes.  But to know that at the highest level of our judicial system sits a man so steeped in privilege and power that he was able to get a promotion after having several very credible accusations of sexual assault….well, that can feel like the death blow at times.  That has made me feel like there’s nothing left to fight for. If it’s 2018 and THAT can still happen...we’re doomed.

So if you’re in that place too, I get it.  I’m sobbing as I write this because I feel it so strongly.  If you have moments of feeling like you have no fight left in you, I’m with you.  The world can be such a disturbing, fucked up place and sometimes the energy that is required to just get through the day is all you can muster.  I profoundly get it. So take a minute to rest. Hell, take a week. Get off of Facebook. Stop listening to NPR. Stop watching CNN. Read something light.  Cry with people who get it. Take a bath. Watch something funny. Take a little real-world hiatus. This is deserving of your tears and it’s Ok to take a break.

BUT THEN RISE UP.  Because this shit can’t stand any longer.  

How many times has someone grabbed your ass or your breasts without your permission?

How many times has someone rubbed their body against yours??

How many times has someone continued to touch you and pressure you despite your lack of an enthusiastic “yes”?

How many times have you felt threatened or intimidated by a man’s unwanted attention?

How many times have you been catcalled on the street?

How many times have you felt objectified as a sexual object rather than an actual person?

How many times have you been made to feel like you did something wrong even though you were a victim to someone else’s bad behavior?

How many times has a man bought you drink after drink with the intention of having sex with you when you’re not legally able to consent?

How many times have you wound up in a sexual situation that you’re not sure you want to be in?

HOW MANY TIMES???

ENOUGH.

All of these men in the government are banking on this “blowing over”, some have even explicitly said so.  So we need to scream at the top of our lungs. We need to VOTE in record numbers. We need to protest every chance that we get.  We need to talk to whoever will listen. We need to burn it down (not literally of course ;)) and start over again.

If they won’t listen when we’re rational and intelligent and non-emotional, as Dr. Ford so bravely did, then we’ll get ugly.  We’ll get loud. We’ll get angry. And when they still won’t listen, we’ll vote them out. Every last one.  By all means, ladies and allies, take a moment to rest and mourn this historical, monumental loss and failure at the highest level.  But then get your pitchforks and megaphones and get ready...

Because hell hath no fury as millions of women scorned.

For all things voting, go here: https://crooked.com/articles/be-a-voter-save-america/

Dr. Colleen Cira is a Licensed Clinical Psychologist, trauma and anxiety expert, clinical supervisor, writer, speaker, wife and Mommy of two little ones.  She has a practice in Chicago’s Loop and Oak Park.  To schedule an appointment with her or her staff, please visit www.ciracenter.org

Brock Turner is Not the Problem

Chapped, rough lips covering my entire mouth.  Hungry, wet tongue slamming into the back of my throat.  My chest heaving, gasping for air that is hard to find.  A cold hand forcing it's way up my shirt.  Awkward, hard fingers frantically pulling at my bra to grope at my breast.  His hot, ragged breath in my ear. The gravel from the concrete digging into my thighs.  The tree in front of me, preventing me from seeing the world and the world from seeing me.  Tears spilling from my eyes.  My body betraying me, unable to move - unable to even speak - completely rooted to the ground in shock and fear.

I thought we were just playing hide and seek?  Why is he doing this to me?  Can't he see that I don't want this??

Eventually, the only thing I am aware of is the dark sky and the moon above.  I can vaguely feel his mouth and hands on me and I am aware of the hot tears running down my face, but all that is really clear is the moon.  I focus on that full, white moon for what seems like an eternity until I am jolted out of my trance (what I now can identify as dissociation), back into reality when I feel him trying to shove his hand down my pants.  Suddenly my body is working again and I am running away from the driveway, from the tree, from him.  Running as fast as I can to wherever I will be safe.

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I was 11 years old that night my friend's older brother turned a childhood game of hide and seek into a nightmare.  And that is to say nothing of the sobbing, turned to anger, turned to total despair that I felt later that night.  Or the rumors that started at my school, first that he raped me and then that that we had consensual sex.  Rumors that followed me around and haunted me.  Or the awful, embarrassing conversation where I told my parents what happened.  Or the years after that where I was absolutely terrified of actually being raped and couldn't be alone at night on the streets without experiencing intense anxiety and near panic attacks.  

But I am one of millions.

We've all heard endlessly about Brock Turner, the Stanford Rapist, and the brave survivor who held him accountable.  You can't go anywhere without reading something about it, including this.  Don't get me wrong.  I (obviously) have tremendous empathy, compassion and admiration for the survivor in all this.  She went through something awful, she has been wronged over and over again and she keeps fighting.  Rock on sister.  We stand with you.

And I'm really grateful that this awful incident has at least created a dialogue about sexual assault.   We need to be having these conversations.  And finally Turner...nothing can be said about this person that hasn't already been said.  Something is seriously wrong with him.  He IS a problem, without a doubt.  But he is not THE problem.

Why do I say that?  Well let's think about this story for a second.  At it's most basic, a man sexually violated a woman, he did not feel remorse for what he did and/or he minimized the seriousness of what happened and/or attempted to make her partly responsible for the assault and was not punished appropriately.

How many women have a story just like that?  

How many of us can say that happened to us?  

How many men can identify with this story if they are being honest with themselves?

THAT is the problem.  THIS IS EVERYONE'S STORY.

Statistically speaking, women are sexually assaulted ALL. THE. TIME.  Every two minutes according to some estimates.  Every two minutes.  Think about that!!  And every assault is horrible and deserves the rage of everyone in our society.  Of everyone in the world.  But how many of these millions of cases have received our rage the way Brock Turner has??  Very, very few.

Why are men so quick to protect Turner?  Because they can identify, but have never talked about it.  They've never had their crimes against women plastered all over American media, but it makes them think about what that would be like.  It makes these men think about all of the times they have been with a woman sexually when it was questionable to do so.  It makes them think about the time/s when they did assault someone, but got away with it because she didn't accuse him.  Or she did, but he denied it and shamed her instead.  Or he was accused, but not charged.  Or he was charged, but not convicted.  How many men have a story like this??

And the rage that women are expressing is profound.  It is justified and makes perfect sense and it is intense.  And my guess that is that it is partially fueled by their own anger about THEIR OWN STORY.  For women who have been raped and always labeled it as such, they can identify all too well with Turner's victim.  But this story is also causing women who never identified as a sexual assault survivor to re-think their sexual experiences.  They are looking back at their history and remembering things that men have done to them and instead of thinking about that event as simply "this weird thing that happened", they are thinking about it assault.

BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT IT IS.

The details don't matter.  How many women have been sexually violated in some way and they were forced to suffer instead of their perpetrator.  How many?!?  THIS is the problem people.

And we're not talking about it.  Which I get.  Sexual assault is a horrifying, isolating, and often times shaming experience.  It is intensely private and personal and ought to be the woman's choice about who, when and if she shares this experience with others.  She should not be pressured or cajoled into disclosing.  At least THIS should be on HER terms.  But part of the reason it feels so scary to tell people is because she (oftentimes rightly) assumes that she will be blamed for it.  Or at least questioned.  Made to feel like she had some role in it.  How many people would sign up for that??

We need to change the culture folks.  Enough is enough.  But how do we do that?  More on that in my next post.  But for now, let's just keep standing in solidarity with this brave, brave woman who said everything she needed to say to her perpetrator.

What would you say to yours?

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Dr. Colleen Cira is a Licensed Clinical Psychologist, trauma and anxiety expert, clinical supervisor, writer, speaker, wife and Mommy of two little ones.  She has a practice in Chicago's Loop and Oak Park.  To schedule an appointment with her or her staff, please visit: http://www.cirapsyd.com/