Unpacking Trauma Series: The Demand
Trauma demands to take precedence over everything. That's why it's often easier to exist within abuse than to exist removed from it. For when separated from the construct of it's insidious consistency we feel what we couldn't whilst surviving. Thus, an unhealthy form of depencency is built within our relationship to the abuse/r. Both, victim and abuser, need the other to remain standing. Which is hard for many to understand.
We need to be hurt the way we know, and have come to know, because there is security in that. It allows us to receive what we've learned to rely on in our abuse. Our trauma becomes a sadisitic friend, a partner, a lover, a family, our anchor. A way of life that comforts, because we understand it, even if we can't even admit it's hurting us. We know how it works, the ways it operates, and how to situate ourselves inside the realm where it exists. A realm that sticks to us like tar, and truthfully never washes clean.
Trauma is another realm of reality. When that reality shifts so we can learn enter a new form of "security," we're expected to do so without our anchor in the familiarity of the abuse. Our ground is removed from underneath us, and our reliance upon where everything we needed came from. So, not only are we facing the intensity of a pain very few even can conceptulize, we are left without our ground. We face the dissociation of that in every cell of us. Without our foundation in the anchor of trauma. Without our support in the survivalism. Without anyone to truthfully understand what we're going through, even if provided the resources only a few select of the privileged received. We are crushed by the weight of the trauma's truth.
Believing the fears is so much easier than shifting them.
Yesterday I entered America and the reality of my own personal anchor in abuse and anchor in safety is ringing inside my entire being. The privilege of all my healing and the weight of 18 years of pain, vibrating in every cell of my abused body.
Every single time my passport is held by authorities. Every time I hand over my legal documentation. Every time I touch American money. Every time I am here. Near them. I break. Are they waiting? Will I be taken back? Will I lose my freedom? Will my securities be stolen? Will I die this time?
The injustice. The lack of aid. The continuation of their abuse on others. The fact that I have been followed. I have been watched. I am being monitored. To what end, unknown. To what extent, questionable. I'm smart. I am immensely privileged to hold the healing I've cultivated thus far. I understand that in order for them to remain abusing, they won't threaten their actions by hurting me. But will that shift? I don't know, and that means until the day they die I will always have an anchor in both abuse and safety.
Everyone's balance in this, their threshold to swing on their own pendulum of abuse-oriented understanding and new-founded safety for the rest of their lives, is based in privilege.
My work and advocacy will always be flawed because my work and advocacy are founded upon my story and truth, despite all the research I do. My truth and story are from the perspective of a white woman, and it is my responsibility to continuously attend to the voices/experiences/truths/stories of others. It is my responsibility to do the research instead of demand guidance from those with less than I have.
Sex trafficking, childhood sexual abuse, family trauma, and assault are rampant and seemingly unending. Using my white voice here could be just as dangerous as not. It is my responsibility to make sure that I'm aware and conscious of my decisions, always.
Belief is not belief if it only exists for those who's voices are deemed worthy through society's approval. Support, resources, sustainable practices, and services that only value whiteness, ability, wealth, and society's binary are failing. It is unfair and unjust that being heard is not a baseline of respect for all humans, but rather a complex and manipulated form of privilege.
I believe you.