I started to write a comment to a very heartwrenching post. I felt tears and emotions running out of me that I had felt only recently, after revealing who I was to the world. Mine was not done elegantly, but it was done honestly. The post I was reading was someone doing the same, but elegantly and more importantly, therapeutically. The beautiful work that I’m going to link before my poorly written and emotion charged response taints it is here (seriously go read it before reading the rest of this.)
As I said, this was a comment so it’s directed at the author, Apple Cider Mage, I started to edit it appropriately, but that just felt…wrong.
P.S. thank you Biggest Butt of Bear for linking to this and making me aware of it.
I’m honestly not sure where to begin. It bugs me writing that line, I know I personally write and read it a lot. -a lot-. Yet I find myself without words, emotions are choking up in my throat, memories and feelings clogging my ability to form sentences or coherent thoughts. I’d generally write terrible poetry at a time like this, not try to have words of response. This reminds me of how I felt during my recent video, writing because I was moved enough I felt the author deserved real, true me, at the moment of the feelings, and not afterwards when I can more clearly and logically write them down.
Harrassment is a big deal, and while I can not say I’ve suffered much sexual harrassment, I have suffered rape. I have also suffered harrassment over my religious views, they’re actually the same story. I try to keep details vague at best when talking about them, people don’t want gritty descriptions, I’m more apt to talk about the emotions, the feelings, the thoughts, especially to those that need those talks. People who are hurting often find comfort in knowing others have hurt as much or greater and lived. Especially when it’s because of a stupid or small mistake. An incorrect judgement, something they feel they are responsible for. You can use the experiences you’ve talked about above to help comfort people in pain, going through similar or even different but just as traumatic experiences. There are multiple ways to get some good from the pain caused to you, and hopefully that is in it’s own way, some small comfort. It has been to me for a long time.
I cannot imagine that treatment lasting years, mine only lasting a few months and escalating to a real, and near deadly incident. It was intensely painful, isolating, and I’m still affected by many problems from it, but to have years of psychological torture, that has to wear down and indeed train you to accept the pain. I…can’t fathom the hopeless feeling that can bring. What I can say is standing in spite of adversity, is the right thing to do, and I was very glad to read this post of you doing that.
It takes real strength to whether adversity, and stand strong under the scrutiny of the world. When things like this happen, the person harrassing isn’t the only one trialed and judged by everyone, so is the harrassee. You are put under scrutiny in case you’re lying, exaggerating, if you have past offenses, etc. . . People will connect random things to your likelihood ‘well, she likes japanese cartoons, so I’d bet she’s lying.” and getting caught in any lie can be disastrous. You have to be honest, and open when standing in front of the world, and that can invite some real pain, some open wounds shown, and expose parts of yourself you may or may not be proud of.
I try to find a balance, I’m honest, but try to keep details grey, and only share personal detail details with those I really trust. I’m not sure if this advice can help you put more of your personal self into your writing again, but it’s the balance I’ve found that allows me to express myself, reach out to people, but keep it semi-safe, if hard to read sometimes. I can only share my experience, my feelings, and my sympathies for this. I can congratulate your strength, and let you know you’ve found a reader in me, and I can’t say I’m a strong feminist (it might be a different fight altogether for transsexual female rights) but, girl powah?
I also feel really bad for the caged doggy. I picture a cocker spaniel for some reason. DARN YOU IMAGINATION.