2015...New Year, New Leaps, New Knowledge

It's been 3 years since I last posted.

A lot has changed. For the better.

I quit the day job at the after school because it was just another mismanaged non-profit, and they hired a completely incompetent Director with a Napoleonic complex.
I started working full time with Athena's as their Connection Coordinator, helping new distributors navigate their new business.
I got engaged to a man who means the universe to me, and I've never felt so lucky to have a person like him on my side.
I am trying to focus more on the sexuality field, and I've done quite a bit of different activities to further my career, including presenting at conferences.

As another BARCC Walk for Change nears (Sunday, April 12th), I want to acknowledge several things.

It's been amazing to be part of the Survivor Speakers Bureau. I've met some amazing people, and every time we meet, it's a reminder of the strength in our stories and our voices. We're all at different parts of our healing, and it's simply beautiful.

I still have a lot of trouble asking for help. I am definitely of the mind frame of 1. Not bothering people and 2. Wanting to have control over a situation. It's still a work in progress, and will probably be for the rest of my life....and that's okay.

This week has been a week of re-traumatization. In 2013, the Boston Marathon Bombing occurred. Just yesterday (April 8th), the accused bomber was found guilty of all charges. On the day that the entire city was on lock down, I found myself glued to the news. I wanted to know everything that was going on, even if it was nothing at all. At one point, I fell asleep on the couch because I was just so tired. My therapist pointed out that a lot of people end up doing the same when they're in a somewhat traumatic situation. It's a way for the brain to cope with the traumatic event. When they started announcing the verdict, I quickly went to a live-stream of the local news. I had all the sounds of it playing in my ear buds. At night time, I watched the news even though it was all the same as earlier.

One of the survivors spoke to the media about how she felt that she had to be present in the court. They asked her, "Why did you think you needed to be there?" She said that she needed to be there for her, as part of her healing. She wanted to "see it through."

I get that. I totally get that.

For me, Knowledge is Power.

Knowing what's about to happen, what can happen, and what I can do about it is very important. It's my way of quietly controlling a situation. Well, at least, it's a way of quietly controlling myself and my immediate surroundings in a situation.

Last night, however, I was reminded that sometimes trauma will sneak up on you when you least expect it.

My partner and I were starting to be intimate, and suddenly I watched memories of the incident with my uncle flash behind my eyelids as though I was back in that place. I tried to fight them, I tried to remind myself that I had come so far from that. But I couldn't get past it back to being sexual.

I'm a sexuality educator. I talk about sex all the time. I'm very comfortable with sex.

But this wasn't about sex. It was about trauma. Sadly, trauma linked to sex.

So, while I am quite knowledgeable about sex and sexuality, trauma doesn't give a fuck.

I am thankful that I felt in tune with myself enough to know that I couldn't continue being intimate with him in that way. I am thankful that I felt comfortable enough with him to know that he would understand the second I uttered the word "trigger." I am thankful to know that we could still be intimate in other ways that didn't involve sex.

I'm also thankful to recognize when I need to reach out to my therapist, and very thankful that my next appointment is coming up next week.

The "knowing" is an interesting part of being a survivor. I imagine that some prefer not to know things because they know it will trigger them, while others want to know to stop the trigger dead in its tracks. I don't think there's a right or wrong way to do it, as long as it's not directly harming the person or another being.

For now, I will acknowledge the knowledge that I carry with me. Hopefully next time, I can acknowledge the trigger and know that, no matter how I deal with it, it doesn't make me less of a survivor, less of a sexuality professional, or less powerful.

Stumbles and Strides

Last year, 2012, happened to be a very good year.

In the first half of the year, I became involved in the Vagina Monologues, which was a sort of voice-challenge I gave myself.  I had seen the show several times, and it had always resonated with me.  But last year, I joined the cast, and it felt freeing to be part of such a wonderful group of women.

In the latter half of the year, I joined the Survivor's Theater Workshop, which also challenged me to use more of my body.  It involved using different facets of expression - physical, vocal, and artistic.  I got to meet other survivors, and kind of get down and dirty with all the emotions we hold on to.  It was certainly a pleasure to be part of this group.

In the process, I learned to listen to my body more.  Sometimes, I neglect it and I ended up getting quite sick several times during the year.  But, I also have the tendency to "act" strong for the sake of others.  Because I work so hard on keeping strong, I end up crumbling down at some unforeseen time because I'm not taking care of my own needs first.

This happened shortly after my first session with the Survivor's Theater Workshop.  To make it on time for the 4 sessions, I had to leave work early.  I managed to request Sick Time for these sessions since they were virtually theraputic sessions.

But, I didn't articulate what this was clearly enough, and my supervisor and the head of the HR department didn't realize what it was really for.  The following day after the first session, I was pulled into the HR office and was basically questioned on why I was taking Sick Time for these sessions.  I explained that it was a workshop for survivors of sexual violence, and that I was participating in it.  For some reason, they thought that I was facilitating the workshops and abusing the Sick Time policy.  But I knew that I could use it for appointment and meetings like this. 

Still, that explanation didn't seem to go through.  I explained again that I was attending these workshops AS a survivor of sexual violence.  The HR person looked at me quizzically.  I don't remember if she asked me point blank if I was a survivor, but I felt the need to explain further.  So, I explained that I was molested as a child and that I was attending these workshops as a form of therapy.  She suddenly seemed uncomfortable with my disclosure.  But I felt that she had basically asked me to do so.  I told her that it was fine because I speak about my experience a lot.  She then asked me to speak with my supervisor about it so that they could both be on the same page.  She asked me if it was okay for me to tell him, and I said that it was.

As I walked away from her office, I suddenly felt the tears trying to break through.  I felt trapped.  Where was I going to go so that I could release them?  I couldn't go into our work room because all my coworkers, some of whom I trust deeply, were there and I knew I would just break down and never stop.  I ran to the nearest restroom just to find them occupied.  I needed to hurry.  The tears were threatening a tsunami.  So I ran to the next private restroom, which required me to go through the school's main office.

Once the door was locked, the sobbing arrived.  I couldn't stop it.  But I let myself cry for a little, but I knew that it would soon be time to greet the children at my program.  The sobbing was uncontrollable.  I somehow managed to get myself together to then face my supervisor.

As I walked into his office and sat down, saying that HR wanted me to talk with him about the workshops, he asked if I was facilitating the workshops or participating in them.  I managed to choke out the word "participating" before once again bursting into a sobbing fit.  He quickly got up to give me space, while our secretary gave me a box of tissues.  I couldn't control it.  Whatever it was that was pent up inside me, coupled with the fact that my participation in such a workshop was questioned, had finally knocked down the door and demanded attention.

Eventually, my co-group leader helped me collect my bearings in time to see the kids.  But later that night, on the way home with my boyfriend, the tears slowly seeped out as he comforted me.

Later on, when I was telling my therapist about the experience, she helped me see that it was perhaps because their questioning caught me off guard.  I don't think I've ever had anyone question me about my experience before in such a manner in such a place

The experience was jarring.  Yet, it made me much more conscious of things that might trigger me.  It also made me much more conscious of the fact that I need to ask for help, and that it's okay to do so.  It's okay to ask for extra support, especially from people who love and care about me.  I can only be strong for myself for so long sometimes, but I can't do it alone.

Honestly, I'm thankful for that.

Tough Shell

Part of my day job involves participating in some activities designed to help kids feel empowered.  It's great really.  In the next couple of weeks, I'm helping with a program that teaches girls how to defend themselves.

I was looking forward to it.  I'm still looking forward to it.

Today, I had to role play saying no and shouting really loudly.  The lead trainer was great, really supportive and really helpful. 

But I suddenly felt really triggered.  I didn't realize how triggered I was until the first time the trainer called a quick time out to give some feedback, and then she told me to take a deep breath.

I really needed that deep breath.

Every pause, I needed that deep breath.

It's funny because I feel like I've done a bit of kickboxing, and then there's the hardcore bootcamp classes.  So I always thought I was much tougher.  I was definitely surprised by my reaction.

But now I'm more prepared.

Bring it on.

Truth be told...

I miss my family every day.  But I'm still not ready to move back because I still don't think they're ready to have me around to ruin the quiet.

Welcome One World One Heart Participants!

Hello!

Welcome to my blog!

I hope that you're enjoying your journey around the world while meeting awesome bloggers!

I'm also hoping that you're visit to this blog leaves you feeling inspired to talk not just about sexual abuse and assault and all the facts and myths that come with it, but also about how people can rise above unfortunate events.

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Thank you for visiting!

Linked from the BARCC Walk

It's that time again where thousands of people gather to raise money for the Boston Area Rape Crisis Center.  So, if you were brought here through a link on my fundraising page, Welcome!

I hope you do take the time to read a couple of blog posts.  Though, I understand if it's too difficult.

Either way, I thank you for stopping by.  Hopefully, you will consider making a donation to this wonderful organization.  Hopefully, you will gain some knowledge about rape and sexual assault.

In the Know

Apparently, the 2 older sons of the uncle know.  They've known.

I haven't been able to connect with them about how they know and how they feel.

All I know is that there isn't any anger.

It feels like a major relief to know that they know.

A major relief.  A huge weight off my shoulders.

An Honest Letter to My Cousins

Dear Cousins,

The truth is, I'm pretty scared shitless.

But probably not for the reasons you'd think.

The truth is, I don't want anyone else to go through what I've gone through.
The truth is, I don't know how else to bridge this small gap of holding it all in and being completely open to the world.
The truth is, I don't want to hurt anyone with my truths.

The truth is, I'm scared that I have to.

I'm sorry I am not brave enough to face you, face to face.
But please know that I am here, I'm willing to talk and answer questions. 
I'm willing to be your Ate.

~Ate C

Distance

There are days when I'm horribly aware that part of the reason I don't move home sooner is because I believe it gives my familiy some relief. A break from really difficult emotions. A respite from facing the truth.

Though, in the scheme of things, wouldn't it be better to just rip off the bandaid?

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Consultations

After discussing my aunt's ideas with my therapist, I realized that I actually have a friend who works with the Department of Children and Family Services - with offices that happen to be a block away from my parent's house.

I have a friend who works there.  Interestingly, she was one of the first people I had told about the uncle.

I asked her about what would actually happen if I were to report my situation to DCFS. 

She told me that because there is still a minor living within the household, that a full investigation would occur that would include an interview with the child.  She also told me that it wouldn't necessarily yield any sort of wanted results.  It still wouldn't mean that the uncle would be required to register as a sex offender.

I still feel like I should be the one my relatives hear from first.  Well, I or one of my other relatives who know.

It's really been difficult to explain to others how difficult it is to be the only one responsible for this.  I know I can't change it or even expect that others will help me carry some of the burden. 

So then, why am I not allowed to do this the way I want to do it?  I know what's "right."  But why can't I do what I know is right the way and the pace that I want to do it?

Biding My Time

Sometimes...

It feels like everyone is pushing me to make a move...

It's a lot of responsibility, you know.

Not only do I have to validate how everyone is feeling about MY situation, but I also have the responsibility of messing up everyone else's life.

Every step I take, someone else's life will be in upheaval.

But I'm not supposed to wait, I'm not supposed to think about how my actions will affect my younger cousins' lives.  I'm just supposed to do it, and let them deal with it. 

And in some people's eyes, it's all to make sure the uncle gets what he deserves.

But that's not what it is for me.  It's still about protecting the future.

But I can't protect the future and expect that I won't tear things down at the same time.

I don't want to validate anyone else's issues anymore.

Let me just figure this out...I'll make my move in due time.

Connecting with the World

For those who are stopping by from my One World One Heart Giveaway:

Thank you for joining me on this journey!
I appreciate all the kind thoughts and words you've all shared with me. 

I do want to reiterate that the purpose of this blog and the giveaway isn't for me to become martyred in any way.  I'm just another story, all too similar to many other stories.  Originally, the purpose of this blog was to have a place for my family to learn about any details.  But as the story is still unfolding, it's also a place for me to drop my experiences, as they are often very heavy.

But, seriously.  Thank you for taking the time to read my tale.

New Year Old Feelings

Well, 2010 is not going to make it easier.  Though, I'm determined to put everything out on the table.

It seems that my dad's eldest sister is really having a difficult time with how the situation is playing out.  While she says she's willing to follow my lead, I feel very pressured to rush the process.

During the holidays, I was really able to explain where I was coming from, why I felt that I couldn't just go and tell everyone at every family gathering.  From the very beginning, while I'm an advocate of transparency, I'm also an advocate of the idea that my cousins and I would ultimately decide how future incidents would be handled.

But, it seems that my aunt was having a lot of difficulty separating her baggage with my situation.  At one point, we had a long conversation, mostly consisting of her bringing up her past situations and really shedding light into why she felt so angry that my parents and I hadn't acted much quicker.

She brought up that there would not be any way to know whether or not the uncle has touched anyone else or whether he will again - but that he should be monitored.  She talked about ethics and morals, and how she could not live with it if it was found that another person was harmed as we sat here doing nothing.

She talked about 2 options - taking it to court or reporting it to the Department of Children and Family Services.  I told her that I felt extremely uncomfortable with the court process, especially since I don't want anything from him.  I told her that while I felt an ethical obligation to my family and other children, I would rather be the first person my family hears from, rather than people hearing from some government agency or complete stranger.

But I told her that I would ask my therapist about it, as I felt that I couldn't make a decision at that moment.

For some reason, my aunt sounded disappointed by my decision, though I'm sure she had to realize that it was ultimately my choice to do anything about it.

Overall, that was a very exhausting conversation.  Mentally.  Emotionally.  Physically, my eyeballs were too tired.

I felt out of it for a whole week.

Heavy Holidays

Holidays are always difficult.

In the past couple of years, it's been difficult to not have a complete holiday like we used to.  Now it's about making up stories and excuses for why the uncle isn't coming.

The worst part is that my cousins/his sons don't know what's changed so much.  They see that their dad wants to spend more time with his side more.  But they don't understand why the change is happening.

The youngest of the brothers once asked, "Why don't we have big parties at your house anymore?  Are we going to do it again soon?"

How do we explain that to this 11 year old?
When will the holidays cheery again?

When we have relatives visit, they ask us, "Where is that family?  Why aren't they here now?"

While I do believe that the truth will really free us, when will I feel free?

It's up to us...

At some point, I realized that while I do feel that my mom and dad's siblings should know, that it was more important for my cousins to know.

Right before December 2007, I learned that some of my cousins did know, only because the uncle had tried to suggest a relationship with one of them.

It felt great to have others that I could depend on, as I knew it would be difficult to put that burden solely on my immediate family.

One of my cousins moved to LA from Chicago, and he ended up married to one of the uncles younger sisters.  They soon had a son.  I knew I had to talk to my cousin.

In the Summer of 2009, I started the gears going.  My cousins that already knew helped get some of the pieces into play. 

One night, I called my cousin.  The conversation was very fulfilling.  Though I was initially scared that he would start getting angry and act out, he was relatively calm and mainly in disbelief.  But we also talked about his son, his life.

Two days later, my cousin told me that he called the uncle the next day and told him that I spoke with him.  He also told him that he should be responsible for telling his sister, my cousin's wife.  So, the uncle and my aunt came over that night and talked to them.

That same day, I also told my cousin's sister, the eldest of my cousins.  Back in 1993, when we went to Chicago, she was the cousin who was getting married.  Her reaction was the reaction I expected from her brother.  It felt great to talk to her and open up about it.  It felt great to know that more of us were aware.

*********************

I tried to make it perfectly clear that I wasn't telling people to make them angry, but that that was an unfortunately reaction to the truth.  With my cousins and I getting older, starting families and having kids, I feel like we need to be responsible about the truth.  We are a large family, and the unfortunately reality is that there is a high probability of it happening again.

What matters isn't what happened. 

What matters is how are we as a family going to deal with it when it happens again.

My Dad's Side

At the beginning of 2009, my dad explained the situation to his relatives.

Though his brother already knew about it (because he is married to my mom's youngest brother's sister-in-law), he proceeded to tell all his sisters.

I soon was having conversations with my dad's eldest sister on the phone.  A lot of the time, it felt that she was just trying to understand what happened.  She even asked me if I wanted to try to press charges - not something that I was necessarily thinking of at all.

But, I appreciated what she and my other aunt's were going through.

It felt great to finally have that whole side of my family know.  Only time will tell how they will be able to deal with it, but so far it all feels better.

My Tita

I love my Tita.

As she is my mom's youngest sister and sibling, of course I love her.

This woman helped take care of me when I was a baby, a young child.  I still have many fond memories of her.

I knew her and my mom would get into arguments once in a while as sisters do.  It often felt that she was sometimes jealous of my mother, or maybe just that she wanted to be better than her.  And after I learned about how the uncle really felt about their union, I just felt really sad for her. 

After December 2007, I started receiving texts from her.  Most of them were about forgiveness, and all of them were based in religious dogma.

It hurt to know that she felt that I needed to forgive her husband, and that she would try to force that stuff on me.  I realized that perhaps she needed me to forgive him so that she could forgive him, so that she could "move on" and continue living her happy life.

If I remember correctly, I told her to please stop sending me those messages, and the messages stopped.

At some point, after almost two years of not hearing any reactions from my cousins, I realized that she was not planning to tell her sons anything.  She did not want them to hate their dad.

When I started opening up to my cousins, I got wind that she was angry at my efforts.  Why couldn't I just let it be?  Was I purposefully trying to make her sons resent their father?

She locked me out of her Facebook.  When I did see her, it was very awkward and brief - even at big family gatherings. 

Still, I'm hurt by her disapproval. 

Still, I feel sad and sorry about her reactions.

Still, I love my Tita.

December 2007

This was the month and year I confronted the uncle, with my parents and some of my mom's siblings present.  Below you will find my notes and the letter I read out loud to the family.

********************************

Date: December 29th, 2007
Time: 12:30pm
Location: My mom's older sister's apartment
Key Players: My parents, Me, My aunt, the uncle
Witnesses: My mom's sister, my mom's brother and his wife

Why now?:
At this point in my life, I feel ready to take this step.
Getting text messages from the both of you is exactly what I don't want in the new year. I don't want to hear about my mom and dad getting messages, I don't want to get messages, and I don't want to be told that I have to forgive anybody. I've felt forced into this, and but I'm also tired of this.

My Stand:
I'm sure you think that this meeting is a chance to help conscience, but I can tell you right away that I don't plan on forgiving you. I personally don't think I could ever forgive you. What happened should never happen to anyone.
Also, as a social worker, I am a mandated reporter. And I think the family has a right to know. So, after this is all said and done, we're planning to tell the rest of the family. With new babies coming into this family, they all have the right to know about what happened. Just like when people are told that a sex offender moves into their neighborhood. Since you're not a registered sex offender, the best I can do is alert the people you are closest to.
You broke everyone's trust by pretending to be a nice person, but you did a terrible thing.
I feel like my aunt/your wife has the right to know what we are planning to do. I also wanted to tell her that I still consider her part of my family, and that I still very much care about your 3 sons. I don't know how they will feel when they find out, but I'm expecting that they'll be mad at me. That's ok. When they're ready to talk to me, I'll be waiting.

If Nanay and Tatay have something to say, they can.
(Tatay plans to tell him that he's no one in our lives..that he's never allowed in our house again, and that he doesn't want to be invited to any party that they're at. I know that he's having a hard time separating my uncle with the rest of his family...which I'm having trouble with...only because I don't think that's ok....but that's the process he's going thru, I know.....I know.......)

*******************************

This was a very difficult event.  Though I was prepping for this in therapy, it was hard for me to imagine what would really happen. 

There were a lot of tears.  A lot of apologies.

He explained how horrible he felt, how he knows he can't take anything back, how he hopes that I will eventually forgive him.


My aunt/his wife apologized profusely.  She even said that she would be responsible for telling her sons. 

My other aunts and uncle stated that they felt horribly betrayed.  But that they would stick with my aunt's decision to stay with him.  That he is family because he's married to their sister and father to their nephews.  But that trust would be a different issue.

My mom tearfully noted how much she trusted him, and how responsible she felt.  And as I suspected, my dad was able to say exactly how he felt.

I explained that I wasn't angry, but I can't just ignore that this had happened and neither should he.  I don't feel the need to forgive him, because what he did was unforgivable.  

It was such a purging exercise.  It felt so good to know that things were finally out in the open.  At least...among the people present.

But that was just another part...not nearly the end.

"they know...."

After my parents opened up to my mom's younger brother, his wife, her sister, and my dad's brother (who's married to the sister - it's complicated, I know! We're a big family, so bear with me...did you get that? okay...), the uncle started noticing that people were treating him differently.

So, this is the version of the story that I've been told.

One day, he went to my mom's brother's in-laws and asked them why they've been acting strange around him.  They confessed that they were told about what happened with me.  He proceeded to then tell them that he figured that was the case, and told him his side of the story.

He was trying to work things through.  He was going to therapy.  He was planning to tell his wife, my aunt.

As far as I know, they told him that they had to be really careful around him.

But as is the Catholic way, forgive and forget.  To this day, they still interact with him.  They still leave kids in his presence.  They're still hoping praying wishing that he has fixed himself.

Thank Goodness for My Parents

It was in college. Perhaps sometime during my senior year.

I had participated in Take Back the Night for all the previous years in school, and it really helped me build up the courage to tell my parents.  If I was able to speak about my experience to hundreds of strangers, I should be able to talk to my own parents, right?  Well...it took me a long time.

I wanted to participate in Take Back the Night one last time with an update about my progress...not for the listeners...but for me...

I thought a lot about the implications.  What does this mean to my family?  How will my parents react?  What will happen to my younger cousins, the sons of the uncle?

I had no idea.

There is no perfect situation.  I just had to build up the courage, and just start the sentence.

I told my parents while my dad was driving.  They were visiting me in Northern California, and we just dropped off my then-boyfriend back at his dorm.  I was going to stay the night with them at a hotel in Oakland or San Francisco...I don't remember where it was exactly.

At first I thought, perhaps I should wait until we're not driving?  I don't want my dad to swerve in anger.  But, when I finally let it all out, I think they were in a state of shock.

I don't remember much about the conversation.  My parents had a lot of questions.  At some point at the hotel, my dad expressed how angry he was.  They suggested that I speak with a counselor at school.  But, more than anything, I think they needed to really think about the whole situation....similar to the things I had to think about. 

What does this mean to the family?  Have others in our family been affected as well?  What will happen to my younger cousins, the sons of the uncle?

But, for me, I was glad to have that burden of carrying it around off my chest.  My parents were now able to share in my emotions and support me.

Though...they also needed support of their own.
My dad sought it out among his co-workers - nurses, social workers, etc.
My mom....well...I'm not sure...I know she relies on my dad's support.

It felt great to be open with them. 

But this was the just beginning of opening up to the family.