Origin Story

Everyone’s got one. Here’s mine.

This one’s about my journey in healing from the trauma of rape.

**

You know, I thought I had this healing thing all figured out. 

Until the results of the 2016 Election happened.

As a survivor of sexual violence, I thought I had done the work of healing. When my experience of trauma happened twenty five years ago, I immediately reported what happened (nothing came of it). I told my story to friends (who, unfortunately, did not believe me. But don’t worry — I got new friends!). I went to therapy. I moved from therapist to therapist, looking for the right fit. And in doing so, I had to tell my story over and over. (Would you believe one therapist told me that all I had to do was dress sexy?! What??)

I was doing my best to check off all the boxes. I did what people said to do in order to heal.

I also wrote about it. And wrote about it. And wrote about it. Poems, essays, short stories. You name it. I was convinced that the more I wrote about it, the more I could heal from that trauma, the more I could release the hurt. I was convinced that I could write it out of my body and out of my memory. That this traumatic event would just fade into the past and disappear.

But what happened as I wrote each poem and each story, each time I recounted what happened to me, I felt myself experience the same fear, the same bewilderment, the same violation, the same pain again and again. I was re-traumatizing myself and I didn’t even know it. I convinced myself that I was healing. That I needed to power through this pain. That through this experience —as unnerving as it was to go through— I was allowing that pain to move through me and then eventually, out of me. Or at least that was the hope!

As I write this today, I’m thinking to myself: that’s a crazy belief!

But that’s what we’re told we need to do in order to heal. We’re told that to do the work, we need to go through the fire. Again and again.

And so I did.

And after two decades of this, I thought I was doing pretty well. I thought I released all of my trauma from that experience and was totally healed. I truly believed that nothing could trigger me.

And then the Election of 2016 happened.

When the results came in, I was terrified to leave my house. Despite the overwhelming reports of racial hate crimes and aggression against women across the country, I felt foolish for feeling such fear. What was I afraid of? I lived in a safe neighborhood, right? A sleepy suburb where nothing happens. Why on earth did my body shake with fear?

That day, the day after the elections, I drove to the yoga studio that was quickly becoming my second home. On my way there, two cars, side-by-side, were stopped at a red light in front of me. The car in front of me brandished a Trump 2016 bumper sticker. In the second car, a white man rolled down his widow and shouted to the car next to him, “Yeah! We did it! Wooooo!!” In those few moments, I feared for my safety. What if they saw me, a woman of color, and decided to teach me a lesson?

I held my breath, said a prayer, and kept going. Something told me I needed to get to yoga.

There, the energy was different. It wasn’t the same love-and-light vibe I had come to love. Everyone seemed tenuous, on the verge of something. Rage, tears — it didn’t matter. It was all the same. And it wasn’t until I began to gently move my body that I realized how much hurt and suffering I had pent up inside. Pain that came from not just being a survivor of sexual violence (because with these election results, men felt they had permission to treat women like garbage), but also from being a person of color, the person on the receiving end of racism, both overt and subtle acts (again, because the election results elevated an overt racist into power).

It was then that I realized that I wasn’t healed. Not even close.

And that healing is beyond talk therapy. Trauma lives in our bodies. And if the body is still hurting, our spirit-souls are, too.

In the months that followed, I dove into the 200-hour yoga teacher training I was already invested in. Then, I studied trauma-informed yoga where I learned more about how the body stores our hurts. The more I researched how the body holds on to our lived experiences, the more I learned ways to release those moments that do not serve me or my wellbeing.

As a result of the work I’ve done —both on the physical and spiritual levels, I am thriving in my life. I am able to talk and write about my traumas without harming myself. I am able to share my experiences with love and kindness as evidence that YES! we really can heal from our deepest hurts. And not just survive in our lives, but thrive! I mean really THRIVE!

And so, I offer you what I’ve learned: that there is more than one way to heal. That there is a kinder, more loving way to heal. I help women writers of color like me get out of the cycle of re-traumatization and into a life of resilience, of strong nervous systems, and of fierce voices that demand to be heard! 

I’m inviting you to join me on this journey as I help women writers of color design a blueprint for their own healing and take charge of their lives once again. it is possible to step back (yes, back) into your own power. It’s time --especially now, during this potent time of change!-- to embody our fullest, most authentic selves so that we can lead the world out of darkness and into light!

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