"When I was raped, I felt powerless. I felt my value had been determined by someone else, someone who sent me the message that body was not my own, my choices were meaningless," she said. "It took years to recognize my personal worth was not tied to my assault, that the voices telling me I deserved this were phantoms, they were liars." ~Lena Dunham, Variety's Power of Women Luncheon, 2015.
I saw this quote and thought how apt it was. That's really one of the most powerful weapons of sexual assault: the insidious means by which it can (erroneously) become the definition of a person and the measure of worth.
For a Christian, it is easy to say worth is tied to being a child of Christ. But we live in a fallen world where lies obscure that truth. And one of the best liars of all time is the weapon of sexual abuse. In part, it is not merely because of the message the abuser "speaks" to the survivor, but also because of the message our society shouts.
In Googling about Lena Dunham's assault, I learned of the controversy from her/her publisher's dices to obscure the identity of the rapist. In one article, I read this:
"As a rape victim you have a terrible, awful, traumatic responsibility to do everything in your power to get your attacker off the streets — if only to protect other women. It’s not fair, but it is the only right thing to do."
And I vomited.
"As a rape victim you have a terrible, awful, traumatic responsibility to do everything in your power to get your attacker off the streets — if only to protect other women. It’s not fair, but it is the only right thing to do."
And I vomited.
It bothers me how fragile certain topics are and the admonition of others. My physical response bothers me. But I do not share the opinion that survivors of rape have the responsibility to get their attackers off the streets. That is the vocation of law enforcement and the justice system. The only responsibility a survivor of rape has is to take care of herself/himself. Period.
That process might include a vigorous participation in the prosecution of an attacker or it might include becoming an advocate against sexual abuse or it simply might be learning to hear what is true and right and of good repute, rather than the lies that were spoken via the assault.
To me, the author's error is made most clear in the fourth word: "victim." Again, one of the most helpful bits of The Courage to Heal is the authors' commitment to teaching that you are only a "victim" of sexual abuse if you die. If you live through the abuse, then you are a survivor.
Words matter. Labels matter. You will treat yourself differently if you think of yourself as a survivor, rather than a victim. The word "survivor" is imbued with perseverance, courage, and hope. The word "victim" is filled with helplessness and hurt.
It has been my experience, and that of others I know directly, that having a history of sexual abuse in your medical file leads to medical personnel treating you as a victim and leading to a mental diagnosis of stress, PTSD, hysteria, etc. first and physical problems overlooked. The way you are treated reinforces the lie that you are not worth much, not worth proper care and treatment of your body, not worth the respect of your mind and spirit. The way you are treated reinforces the lie that your identity remains in the abuse.
One of the things I despair of is how society really doesn't want to hear and learn about the effects of sexual abuse. The topic brings discomfort and, sometimes, dismissal. The latter can be in the form of "it's time to move past that" or "such things would never happen _______ (in our neighborhood, school, church, etc.)." I have noted, often, that we tell children what happened to them is not their fault and has no shame, but as adults shame or blame or some indefinable charge is laid simply because sexual abuse is not "appropriate" table talk. "Leave that in the counselor's office."
But The Courage to Heal teaches us that we need to understand the whys and wherefores of the survivors body, mind, and spirit. We need to recognize the signs of struggle and of coping mechanisms that speak of help still needed. We need to realize the lies of the abuse can linger years and years despite how hard one might try to leave them behind.
And that is okay.
Do not misunderstand me: It is not okay that it can take years and years to understand the lie, to recognize the truth. Surely we wish speedy healing for all survivors. But healing is a process that is idiosyncratic and ineffable. Would that it were we could celebrate each step forward in that process and forgive and encourage once more the survivor during each step backward. In that regard, the length of time the healing takes is okay, be it months or years or decades.
"It's okay if you feel like you deserved what happened. You did not, but your feelings are your feelings and not what is true about you. It's okay if you think that you are worth less as a woman or man, a son or a daughter, a wife or a husband because changing thoughts learned from the lies of sexual abuse takes time. And what you think about yourself does not change the truth of yourself. Until you know that truth once more, I will speak it to you. Christ ever speaks it to you. The Holy Spirit is filling you with that truth through Word and Sacrament."
As a Christian, those are the words I long to hear, often and repeatedly. For the lies I heard when I was being abused still linger in my ears. I know they are lies, but it is difficult not to listen to them.