#Metoo: A Response and Declaration

I feel like I've been pretty verbal about being a survivor of sexual assault, but damn if this isn't one of the most legitimate hashtags I've ever seen. Hence; #metoo

To you others who are #metoo too:

You have the courage to get up, each day, and function.

You have the willpower to eat, drink, breathe, and put one foot in front of the other.

Child, we call this "functioning."

And you do it so well. I don't give a fuck if you're half-assing it, quarter-assing it, 1/8-assing it, you're DOING it and I know how much of you it takes to do it.

You and I both know how fucking ridiculous it feels sometimes to have to function after being sexually abused, how unfair It feels to have to pay bills, work, smile, shower, and take care of responsibilities after being sexually abused.

Because sexual abuse makes all of these things seem so trivial. Falling apart literally from the inside-out while teetering on a ledge between the world and the world you know now through the eyes of a sexual abuse victim makes simple things like walking and drinking water not so much of a priority. I know.

I also know that it wasn't your fault, that you didn't deserve what happened to you because you just didn't. I know that your body may feel foreign to you now. But no matter how foreign your body feels at times, I also know that your body is still your body and no one else's. And that it is precious. And beautiful.

Not dirty.

Not not-yours.

Not foreign.

Not unworthy.

Not empty.

Not deserving of anything less than profound and sufficient love that shakes you and your child Self and your victimized Self and your survivor Self to your fucking CORE.

Not made to be accessed by the one who did this to you.

Your body is none of these things.

The truth is: you and your ability to survive mean that you are refined. Because no one can walk through fire like that without coming out as a higher version of your Self.

You are now closer to the gods. Listen, Child.

You are a higher version of yourself because you are here, and you survived.

Let every second of every hour of every day be the declaration that "I am a survivor" and then smile to know that in every isolated second of your existence that you've overcome someone's attempt to assassinate your Self because the refined you and demi-gods and demi-goddesses can dodge a fucking bullet.

And on the days where processing the fact that you've been victimized begins to exhaust you, put your victimization in a box, label the box, and put it on the shelf, because sometimes you just deserve a break. And you can do whatever you want with the box because it's YOUR box and YOUR fucking shelf.

Now it's time to cultivate your healing space.

Buy the sage.

Eat the chocolate.

Burn the things and burn them with powerful people that also like to burn things and burn the things as you gather around the fire.

Buy the teddy bear because your Child Self needs it.

Take a shower until the hot water runs out and the cold water feels good.

Break the bad habit.

Do the yoga.

Say "no."

And if "no" is not enough for them, say "fuck you."

Decide that no one and no abuse and nothing will get in the way of this healing you're about to catch.

Catch it.

Start cultivating, Child.